Longarm #431

by Tabor Evans

He stopped, turned.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” the young lady said, approaching him with a diffident smile.

  “No bother, miss,” he said, this time removing his hat and holding it in front of his belly. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “There is, actually, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Now that,” he said, “depends on what ’tis that you’d be wantin’.”

  The lady blushed. “This is embarrassing, but . . . in my room, sir. I have a portmanteau. I need the contents, and I can’t seem to get it open. Could you possibly help me with such a silly thing as that?”

  “Of course, miss. Let me take a look at it.”

  Longarm followed her into her room, which was across the hall and two doors down from his. Her room smelled of some floral perfume and . . . female, some elusively feminine scent that was most pleasant.

  He was reminded that it had been some days since he had anything like that to think about. Certainly his experiences with Nic were nothing to remember with fondness.

  Now he felt . . . not aroused, exactly. But certainly very much aware of the woman scent and the woman’s presence. He thought about turning around and getting the hell out of there lest he embarrass himself with a hard-on. But he had said he would help, and help he would.

  “It is right over here, sir,” she said, leading him across the room to a luggage stand beneath her window.

  The bag was large and black. It was locked shut.

  “Do you have the key?”

  “No, sir. I have no key.”

  “Then d’you have a hairpin?” he asked.

  The girl smiled. “Now that I do have.” She reached up with both hands and did something at the back of her head that caused her hair to cascade over her shoulders in soft waves. When she brought her hands down she was holding several hairpins, which she offered to him.

  “I’m gonna ruin one of these,” he said. “Is that all right?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice was soft. Very attractive, he thought.

  Longarm took one of the hairpins, bent it out more or less straight, and dug into the lock of her bag. A few moments later the lock parted, and the bag was open.

  “There y’ go,” he said. “All fixed.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She stepped close to him and laid a hand on his arm. “If you don’t mind me saying it, you are an uncommonly attractive gentleman. Very handsome. Very . . .”

  She did not finish the thought. She blushed again. “Would you . . . do you mind . . .”

  She moved forward. Came quite naturally into his arms. Lifted her face for his kiss.

  Ever the gentleman, Longarm responded in kind. He no longer was concerned about the hard-on that prodded the lady in the belly.

  Chapter 18

  Melody Thompson was sleek. Body, hair, the way she felt in his arms, she was sleek to look at and sleek to feel. Her body was long and lean. Not at all soft. Her tits were small, her nipples like a pair of tiny, light-pink rosebuds riding on top of them.

  For some reason—he did not ask—she cropped her pussy hair so short it almost looked shaved. That allowed her pussy lips to show inside a scant nest of dark hair.

  “Beautiful,” she exclaimed when she saw Longarm’s cock. By then Melody was naked and eager.

  She pressed herself against him, one hand cupping his balls as if weighing them, the other stroking his dick. She carefully peeled his foreskin back and ran a long, delicate fingernail around the head.

  “So pretty,” she said. “So big. I want to feel this inside me.”

  Longarm picked her up, carried her to the hotel room bed, and gently placed her down. He nuzzled the side of her neck, sucked on her right nipple, moved to cover her.

  “You don’t have to be so gentle,” Melody mumbled into his ear. “I won’t break. Go ahead. Pound my belly. I’ll love it.”

  She was already wet and as ready as he was, so he slid his cock inside the wet heat of Melody’s thin body. She cried out as he filled her.

  Longarm began pumping slowly in and out.

  “No,” she whispered. “Faster. Harder. Punish me. Do it hard, please. Yes. Harder. Harder.”

  Longarm pounded her belly with his, moist flesh slapping together, as loud as if he was spanking her tight little ass.

  Melody’s arms were locked around him and she grasped him with her legs as well. She threw her head back, the tendons in her neck standing out beneath her skin.

  “Yes-s-s-s-s-s!” she cried.

  Longarm could feel her pussy lips contract and flutter against the base of his cock, clenching tight as waves of sensation swept through her slim body.

  He was not yet done. Now he allowed himself to come. And come he did, pouring his juices into Melody’s pussy.

  The release was so powerful that Longarm, too, cried out aloud, and Melody clutched him tight with her arms as well as her pussy.

  “Sweet,” she said. “That was so sweet. I loved it. Can we do it again?”

  Longarm, still inside her, laughed and acknowledged that yes, they could.

  Chapter 19

  “Tell me about yourself,” Melody murmured. She was nestled in the crook of his arm, her pretty head resting on the side of his chest while she idly picked at his chest hairs.

  “Oh, there’s not much t’ tell,” he said, stroking the back of her head. “I’m just a man. Travelin’. Looking around. You know.”

  She lifted her head and kissed his shoulder, lingering there for a moment before she said, “But that is just the thing. I don’t know. I want to know everything about you, Custis Long. Everything.”

  He laughed. “Careful there or you’ll start somethin’.”

  Melody raised up a few inches. “You couldn’t. Not again.”

  “Keep foolin’ around like that an’ I will.”

  “Not possible,” she said, more seriously this time.

  “Want t’ bet?” he challenged.

  “Yes. I do,” Melody answered. “I say you couldn’t possibly. Not again so soon after that last, lovely time.”

  “Then roll over, woman, an’ I’ll show you who can do what t’ whom.”

  “On my back?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. “Or on my stomach?”

  “Hmm. Like it in your ass, do you?”

  “I like it any way I can get it. Do you want me in the ass? That is fine with me. Here.” She rolled away from him and moved back close beside him but lying on her stomach, her rather small and tidy butt stuck up in the air.

  Melody reached down under her stomach and fingered her wet pussy to pick up some moisture and rubbed it onto her asshole to ease his entry. By then Longarm’s erection had returned full force. He moved on top of her. Melody reached back to take hold of his dick and guide it in.

  “Slowly now. Give me time to adjust, honey. You’re awfully big, you know.”

  “Too big?”

  “Oh, no,” Melody said. She giggled. “If anything I would say you are just right in that department.”

  Longarm pressed forward, felt the head of his cock encounter resistance. Then it burst in, the heat of her asshole surrounding him.

  Melody winced once, then pushed back against him, impaling herself on Custis Long’s rigid pole. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please.”

  And yes, he pleased her. And himself.

  Chapter 20

  Melody was still sleeping when Longarm woke and slipped out of her bed. He thought about waking her for one more plunge into that delightful flesh but decided to let her sleep instead. She deserved it after all the effort she had put forth during the night.

  He stood, stretched, yawned, then pulled on his clothes and slipped quietly out of her room and down the hall to his own.

  Once there he washed and changed to a clean shirt, then went downstairs and out. B
uck Walters and his wife provided him with a breakfast big enough to fit a raging appetite.

  “Thank you, Buck, Miz Walters,” Longarm said, touching the brim of his Stetson to the hardworking pair. He paid and left a generous tip as well. Good people, he reminded himself. Like the Walters family and Glenn Farley. He smiled and silently added, and like Melody Thompson. Now she was good indeed. He almost got another hard-on just thinking about Melody’s sleek, supple—and oh-so-hot—body.

  He wandered down the street, in no hurry, for a shave and a trim at the barber’s. “But leave the mustache, please. I’ll trim that myself.”

  Then down the street to Sensabaugh’s to see if his funds had come through yet. They had not, so he ambled on.

  He walked over to the livery just to get acquainted with the hostler.

  Longarm was more than a little surprised to find both his horse and the one Al Gray had been riding standing in a corral there. Both were borrowed animals, not owned, but he was sure of whose they were.

  With that prompting him, he went inside for a closer look. His own McClellan saddle was there, as was the saddle he had borrowed along with the horse Gray had been riding the day Longarm was shot.

  There was no sign of his saddlebags and bedroll and he did not want to call attention to himself as a deputy marshal, so he did not ask about them. But he damned sure intended to look for them once he had winkled out the whereabouts of that son of a bitch Alton Gray.

  Bringing Gray in was still his priority.

  The good news was that, the horses being here, it was entirely possible that Gray was somewhere in or near Crowell City.

  Of course it was also possible that after this much time, Gray could be in San Francisco. Or Boston.

  Still, the presence of the horses gave Longarm hope that he might yet be able to get Gray back into custody and deliver the man to Denver like he was supposed to.

  Longarm felt mighty good when he headed back to Buck’s place for lunch.

  Chapter 21

  Wilson Hughes had said Longarm should check back with him about the same time the next day. After lunch should be close enough, Longarm figured, so he dawdled over his meal, then headed for the town marshal’s office.

  Hughes was not in, but the door was unlocked so Longarm helped himself to a seat, tipped his hat over his eyes, and laced his hands over his belly while he dozed.

  Half an hour later the marshal showed up. “Ah, Long. Just the man I’m wanting to see.”

  “Marshal,” Longarm said, rising and extending a hand. He was careful to hide his true opinion of the corrupt lawman. He would much rather slug the man than shake hands with him, but that would not accomplish anything. Unfortunately. He even managed a smile when he greeted the son of a bitch.

  “I was just talking about you,” Hughes said.

  “With Al Gray?” Longarm asked, hoping. That would mean Gray indeed was still in Crowell City.

  “Uh, no. Mr. Gray is, um, not available right now. But his closest associate happens to be. This is someone whose advice Mr. Gray trusts, someone whose advice he takes, in fact. And frankly this is someone who plans most of Mr. Gray’s, shall we say, professional activities. If you know what I mean.

  “I can arrange a meeting between you and this person, but I was hoping, well . . . to tell you the truth, Mr. Long, I would need some grease on the wheel. If you know what I mean.”

  Longarm knew what he meant, all right. The slimy SOB wanted another bribe.

  Longarm dug into his pocket and came up with a single ten-dollar eagle and some silver.

  “Look, the truth is that I’m near about tapped out,” he said. “I’m waiting for some money t’ be sent to me, but it ain’t arrived yet. You can have this if you like. As a down payment, so t’ speak. But I won’t be able t’ come up with anything more until that money arrives.”

  Hughes smiled, exposing yellowed teeth that reminded Longarm of a coyote, a carrion-eating pest. “Four hundred dollars, I believe the amount is.”

  Longarm was glad now that he had chosen to avoid using Billy Vail’s name or the office address when he sent that wire. Hughes had his tentacles everywhere in town. The game would have been up if Longarm had been open about the addressee of that telegram.

  “If my friend has that much t’ send,” Longarm said. “How’d you know about that anyhow?”

  “I keep a close eye on the goings-on in my town,” the marshal said. “And I know you will need some of that money for yourself, so let’s say I get three hundred and you keep the rest.”

  “Bullshit,” Longarm snorted. “Let’s say you get one hundred. I need the rest.”

  “Two hundred then,” Hughes said. “Unless you can do whatever it is you are planning without Mr. Gray’s help.”

  Longarm frowned and fidgeted, then made a show of reluctantly giving in. “All right. Two hundred.”

  Hughes smiled his carrion-eating smile again and rubbed his hands together. “I’m glad we see eye to eye,” he said.

  “When will Gray be back?” Longarm asked.

  “Soon. That is all I can tell you,” Hughes said.

  “All you can?” Longarm asked. “Or all you will?”

  “All I know myself,” the marshal said. “When I find out more I will certainly pass that information along. Is there a, um, a time limit on the, uh, project you need Mr. Gray’s help with?”

  “It’ll hold for a while. Not forever.”

  “As soon as I know,” Hughes said. “In the meantime there is that little matter of my, um, fee.”

  “When my money comes in, I’ll give you half. The other half when you arrange the meet between me an’ Gray.”

  Hughes nodded. “That would be satisfactory, Mr. Long.”

  Longarm stood, anxious to get out of the marshal’s office. He felt dirty just being in the man’s company. “As soon as my money gets here, you’ll be the first t’ know.”

  The town marshal laughed. “In fact I will,” he said. “Maybe even before you.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m heading over there right now, so you’d best hustle if you want t’ beat me to the information.”

  Hughes laughed again. Longarm reminded himself that it was the last laugh that mattered. And he intended to have that one.

  He strode out of the town marshal’s office and turned toward Sensabaugh’s Dry Goods.

  Chapter 22

  “That’s right. Long. Custis Long. An’ no, I don’t have any identification t’ prove that.”

  “We’re supposed to get identification before we pay out this much money, Mr. Long,” the clerk insisted.

  Longarm gave the dry-goods clerk, who doubled as telegraph agent, a dirty look. “Sonny, you’re the one that took my message down t’ send, asking for this money.”

  The truth was that he did indeed have the sort of identification that the young man was asking for, but it proved he was Deputy U.S. Marshal Custis Long. And wouldn’t town marshal Hughes be interested in that tidbit of information. Hughes would probably give the telegrapher a bonus for that.

  “All right,” the clerk finally said. “But you will have to sign a statement testifying to your name.”

  “Get out your papers then. I’ll sign ’em.”

  Ten minutes later Longarm had his cash in hand. Billy Vail, bless his heart, had sent five hundred dollars instead of the four hundred that had been requested. And he did not even know why Longarm wanted that amount of cash. Now that, Longarm thought, was a splendid boss.

  From Sensabaugh’s he went back to the town marshal’s office and delivered five double eagles to the scumbag.

  “Remember,” Longarm cautioned him. “You get the other hundred after you put me an’ Al Gray together. An’ the sooner the better.”

  “I can’t introduce you to Mr. Gray until he gets here, Mr. Long. Surely you understand that. At the
moment he is what you would call away on business.”

  “I understand business, Hughes. I got business o’ my own with Gray. Surely you understand that. Now if you’ll just give me a receipt for that money I just gave you.”

  Hughes gave him a stricken look, his eyes bulging and jaw dropping.

  Longarm roared with laughter. “Reckon I got you this time, didn’t I?”

  “I, uh, yes. You did, Mr. Long. Can I buy you a drink? To, um, celebrate our business deal?”

  “Thanks, but I got something I need t’ do this afternoon,” Longarm said. Actually he just did not want to have anything to do more than was strictly necessary with the sleazy marshal. Certainly he did not want to drink with the man. “You’ll let me know when Gray gets back, right?”

  “Immediately,” Hughes promised.

  Longarm grunted a good-bye and got out of there. The very idea of having to drink with a man like Wilson Hughes made him angry.

  Spending some time with Melody Thompson, now that was a different notion altogether. He would have to see if she was free for a little playtime this afternoon.

  Chapter 23

  “Sorry, Mr. Long. Miss Thompson checked out this morning. And before you ask, she did not say where she would be going.”

  Longarm sighed, then thanked the hotel desk clerk.

  “I can get you another girl,” the clerk said, lowering his voice and glancing over his shoulder. “Just as good as Miss Thompson and not as expensive.”

  “Not as . . . expensive?” Longarm said, not taking the man’s meaning for a few seconds.

  The clerk in turn failed to appreciate the reason for Longarm’s confusion. “Only five dollars. Ten for all night,” he said. “And the girl I have in mind is really quite beautiful. I’m sure you would like her.” The man smiled. “Would you like for me to arrange for her to come to your room? You wouldn’t have to be seen in public with her, if that is what you are thinking.”

  “I, uh, no. I mean . . . I’ll let you know later if I want her. This girl you have in mind, would she, um, does she work for the same people as Miss Thompson?”