Still, Clete had coerced Rodney into giving him the negatives of the two photos that showed him firing and hitting Priscilla.
Clete could still smile through his pain. Nancy had just spent a lot of time with him, and had told him she thought she was pregnant and was going to the pharmacy for a home test. The idea of fatherhood had raised his spirits and they had immediately begun making plans for a quick wedding, to be carried out before he left the hospital. A call to Nancy's uncle and some bold negotiating on his part had secured a deal with the family over the abandoned Pace mansion. If Clete put up the money from his bounty to either dig a new well or have water piped in, he would be allowed a long lease on the property, which he now thought would be a good place to raise the brood that they appeared to have already started with Nancy.
He knew now that his obsession with DesirЋe was insane, and he felt his love for Nancy renewed by thoughts of his hopes for the future. In spite of his race, he was a respectable citizen now, a local hero, and perhaps a national one. He had had calls today in conjunction with Rodney's syndicated accounts of the Pickford's Meadows saga. The graphic photographs of yesterday's massacre had had to be sanitized for public distribution, and Clete had laughed to see the faces of the naked women victims and their private parts covered with big black rectangles.
Amazingly, and laughably, Mark Denning had no knowledge of what had happened to his wife, nor of the brief, passionate affair she had had with Clete. Except for the unfortunate episode when Lobo had invaded their bedroom in the middle of their love-making and taken the bride for himself, Mark believed his DesirЋe to be completely faithful. Perhaps she was, for she had never actually sought sex with anyone outside of her marriage. And, she had told Clete, while holding him and waiting for the ambulance, that the time they had had sex at the Pace mansion had been because she had been abducted there by Sam and Billy. She had begged him not to tell Mark about any of it.
So, in spite of his pain, that kept him from moving any faster than a snail, Clete was reasonably content. He had a nest egg, a great home to move into, respect and a job in the community, a wife soon-to-be, and offspring on the way. There was no reason why he should allow his obsession with DesirЋe to upset that any longer. He would simply have to learn to live without her.
He hoped it was a son. It had to be a son! Sure, he would look a little pale, like his white mother, but he would mainly look like his father, Clete had decided. But it was something that would tie him to the respectability of the old Pace family, the longest-resident members of Pickford's Meadows, since that great mansion had been built in the heyday of the region.
Clete sighed, smiled, and relaxed. His struggle, it seemed, was over.
When the door slowly opened, he raised his head. Had Nancy forgotten something?
Remembering his resolution made just a few minutes before, Clete tried not to smile when he saw DesirЋe enter, wearing a light, powder blue summer dress. She was radiant, clean and scrubbed to a radiant glow, with no sign of the sperm-smeared and blood spattered girl he had last seen as they moved him into the ambulance. Her glowing blue eyes were sparkling and clear, though downcast shyly as she crossed from the door to the bed. He watched her attentively as she stopped there and laid a hand on the mattress beside his leg.
"I…" she started, then swallowed and started again, her eyes looking at that hand. "I had to see you, Sheriff Anderson. Clete. I had to come and thank you and see how you were doing."
He smiled. "Well, here I am." His uninjured free arm gestured downward. "All that's left."
He saw a tear streak her cheek. "You saved my life, Clete. If it hadn't been for you, I would never have come back from that forest. Those men…"
"You told me about them, remember?"
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"You did what you had to do. How's Mark?"
She smiled slowly. "Just fine. Sore feet, but just fine. We're going to get started on the family now soon. You know…"
"I know what you mean," he whispered conspiratorially. "Keep it under your hat, but I think Nancy's pregnant. She thinks she is."
"Congratulations," she said, inadvertently putting her hand on his leg. "I wish you all the best." Then she noticed her hand, and withdrew it. "Excuse me."
He caught her hand as she moved it. "No, it's okay." He felt the familiar, uncontrollable churning that DesirЋe always evoked in him, and his stirring cock made a tent at the junction of his legs. DesirЋe saw it, remembered what it had done to her, and couldn't tear her gaze away. Clete pulled her hand gently and placed it over his huge cock, and, wonder of wonders, her fingers closed around it, though unable to completely encircle it.
Her hand moved slowly, stroking it up and down while a wet spot began to form on the sheet where it peaked. Glancing up into his eyes, she moved her hand under the cover and grasped the great shaft, feeling the throbbing veins, the bristly hair on the scrotum holding the big, swollen balls. Her hands moved upward, felt the exposed, wide-flanged corona, slippery with his pre-seminal fluid, and she used her thumb to smear it over the tip, raising a groan from his open lips. His big, black hand reached out, running up inside her thighs to the soft, damp center strip of her silk panties, pressed the thin material into her vulval slit to find the nub of her clitoris.
"Oh," she whispered, almost inaudibly, pressing her other hand to her full, swelling breasts, feeling the heat rise to her loins and bosom. Her knees began to tremble, and she squatted slightly to open her thighs while his finger slipped inside to the dripping split of her vagina, slipped inside the honeyed hole of her sex.
DesirЋe, losing control in a way she had not expected she would, and taking initiative for the first time in her life, lifted the sheet, looking down at the frightening black length of his two-and-a-half-inch thick cock. Making low, purring sounds in her throat, she bent her head forward and, holding the huge shaft in both hands, opened her mouth and slid her shining wet, red lips over the head of his cock.
"Dez!" he groaned, feeling her suck the big bulge into her mouth to twirl her tongue all around the throbbing, helmet-shaped glans, trying to work the tip into the hole in the end. Clete arched his back, pushing two fingers into her juicy pussy, feeling her muscles tighten and suck the digits up into her.
What she was doing with her mouth turned out to be inadequate, for his cockhead was much too big for her mouth and the cock itself too thick to even begin to go into her throat, as she had read about in the sex manual. She tried to give him as much pleasure as she could, but she had to stop when her breath ran out. She straightened up, pushing her pussy against his working hand, her eyes glassy, and a shy smile on her face.
"I can never see you again," she said softly. "Not like this. I'm Mrs. Denning, and Mr. Denning has a political career. Mrs. Denning loves Mr. Denning and wants to be his wife forever." She looked at him directly with those wide, soft eyes, hope in them that he would understand. A tiny drop of his fluid glistened on her lower lip, and her tongue lapped it away. She smiled quietly, and waited.
Clete spoke in a near whisper. "Never again, DesirЋe."
She nodded and he felt her pussy suddenly grow wetter. Her shaking hands moved up under her dress and she slid her damp panties over the ripe hump of her buttocks and he drew them down her thighs. She stepped out of them and while his hand played in the crease of her vulva and stroked her burning clit, her hands moved to her neck and unbuttoned the front of her dress, down to her navel. The clasp of her bra was between the cups and they parted under her fingers, letting her sculpted breasts spring out, the wondrous, pink nipples bobbing with her breathing that was coming throaty and faster. Leaning over him, she let him mouth her tautly hanging tits, closing her eyes as the sensations shot through her while his fingers dipped into her sweet cunt. Her hand moved inexpertly up and down his penis, a trail of goo dripping onto her white hand.