by Nico Rosso
His left hand moved up from her ankle, along the inside of her calf, her thigh. She spread her legs for him. He felt her heat even as his hand paused at the silky flesh just before her pussy. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, silently urging. This wasn’t the time for teasing.
He moved his hand higher. Her heat increased. Then her moisture. He bit into her hip, getting a little gasp out of her, then slid his fingers along her. Slick wet heat took his breath away. The last time, it had almost seemed as if he could feel her through his metal fingers. With his own flesh now, he discovered how amazing she truly was. For the world to see, she was bullets and sharpened blades. He knew she was a woman throughout.
She moved her hips, drawing his fingers along her. He wrapped an arm around her back, holding her close. Her rhythm increased, nails digging harder into his shoulders. He slipped a finger inside her, surrounded by her sweet heat, then drew it out to circle her bud. She moaned louder.
He kissed her navel, ran his tongue over it. “I thought life had to be broken or it would break me. Never knew something as fine as you existed for me to touch.”
Her voice was husky. “I don’t break.”
Kissing along her belly, he moved his mouth lower. She continued to grind herself against his hand. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, scattering the lifeless air. When his mouth reached the very top of her folds she gave a long sigh. Slipping his tongue forward, he licked along her pearl.
One of her hands moved from his shoulder to hold his head against her. He slid his tongue forward, along her wet lips. She moaned louder. His half-metal hand held her hip. His other hand rounded the sweet shape of her ass.
“I’m begging,” she told him. “I’m commanding.”
He drew her clit into his mouth, flicked against the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue. Tremors ran through her limbs. But she still held him strong against her. With her wet heat on his lips, his chin, he plunged his tongue along her slit and inside her. She tasted of exotic spices and the essence of woman.
She moaned louder, quieting the wind. He held her stronger, keeping her supported as she gave in to the sensations. Moving his tongue along her folds, he discovered her. What she needed, what she wanted. The flat of his tongue against her clit. The tip just at her entrance.
His erection raged, wanting what his tongue knew. But her momentum was building and Jack had to keep her soaring higher and higher. She rose up on her toes. Her breathing came faster. The muscles in her legs tensed. Then she released it all. Long moans drew out her orgasm. She held him against her and he didn’t move, allowing her to find whatever pleasure she needed.
The cold night was gone. They made their own light and heat. He felt her glow as its waves moved through her. Her knees buckled against his shoulders, so he stood to hold her. She rested against his chest for a moment, catching her breath.
With her palms, she urged him toward one of the chairs by the window. Swiftly knocking her buffalo cape from it, she pressed on his shoulders to get him to sit. He could’ve resisted, but why the hell would he?
Sitting in the chair with her before him, he took in her starlit shape. Even better than only seeing her, he knew how she felt, how she tasted. He knew he’d helped her come and they fit together perfectly.
She tapped one of the pouches on his gun belt. “Which one has a sheath?”
He pointed to the one and she retrieved one of the envelopes. After tearing it open, she took the rolled vulcanized rubber in her hands and approached. He moved forward to help, but she pressed on his chest until he leaned against the back of the chair. Her fingers remained there, drawing rings of fire on him. With her other hand, she slowly unrolled the sheath along his length.
Once it was settled, she brought both her hands to his shoulders, steadying herself. The air seemed to sizzle as she stepped closer. He put his hands on her waist. She widened her legs, standing over him.
Just a little lower. The head of his erection rubbed against her opening. She let out a little yearning growl. But she didn’t rush. Swiveling, she drew him along her cleft. Moisture coated him.
Lower. She sank lower, drawing him inside her.
He growled with her. Anna leaned forward and kissed him. There was nothing to hide in the darkness. They were raw, naked, and exposed.
Chapter Eleven
* * *
OUTSIDE THE WINDOWS, there was no life. A dead town slowly sinking into the dirt. Those landscapes were well traveled by Jack. The edges of the world, home of fugitives and those who hunt them. But inside this room, with Anna wrapped around him, he traveled to a new land. No maps. And the discovery was incredible.
She gave herself to him, to her pleasure. He braced his feet on the floor and held her waist as she rode him. Their rhythm matched perfectly. As she plunged down, he thrust up, sinking deep in her heat. Her hands gripped the back of his neck. She kissed his cheek, his ear. She bit his lip and he bit hers back.
He moved his left hand up her hip and to her breast. She took him fully inside her and ground her hips. Short gasps gave way to longer moans of pleasure.
“Give me everything,” he rumbled. “We’re finally alone. There’s no one to hear.”
She responded with a sigh, “You’re here.” And to prove it, she rose up, drawing his cock nearly out of her, before sinking back down on him again. “You’re the only one.”
A gasp replaced the words. She quickened her pace, rising and falling on him. And her voice rose. With each thrust, she called out in pleasure. It echoed past the room and through the town. If there were any ghosts there, Jack and Anna were showing them how to live.
Sweat glossed her body. Faster and faster she rode him. She threw her head back with an aching moan. Another stroke, another. Her voice shattered the stillness and carried him up with her into the air.
One last plunge and she released. The climax wracked her, sending waves through her limbs. She moaned long and leaned against his chest. Her heart beat hard. He wrapped his arms around her, gripping the moment, knowing this was something he would never forget. And he would never get enough of her.
Pulling her closer, Jack stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned approval. He walked them away from the windows. Her teeth nipped his collarbone.
The bed could be full of mice or who knew what. Instead Jack carried Anna to a low, velvet-covered settee. He leaned her down there, the fabric still soft after the years. Their bodies were still joined as he settled above her.
Her legs stayed hooked onto his hips. She dragged her nails over his back and shoulders. The rocking of her hips encouraged him deeper into her. He pumped in and out, savoring the sensation of her all around him. Never had a woman inspired such hunger in him.
“Now you,” she whispered. “It’s only me and you. Give me what you have.”
He kissed her, tasting the salt of her sweat. She urged him deeper with her legs against his. Thrusting in and out, he felt the climax growing. It was a hunger he chased. She was the answer to the emptiness he’d felt. Pressed against him. Wrapped around him and moving with his rhythm.
He’d heard her loudest cries of pleasure. Now her soft moans in his ear sent him off the edge. Plunging deep one more time, he felt the surge build, then crash out through him. He spent everything he had as she clutched him.
They were truly alone, the only two who understood.
The world reassembled around them. His breath returned. He smelled the dust and old wood of the abandoned hotel room. But he still tasted her on his lips. They sighed as he eased out of her. The settee creaked as they sat up and curled close to each other.
Quiet wrapped them like a blanket. The howl of the wind returned. The town creaked and moaned outside. No human sounds, though. The detection device rested silently on the stool.
He stroked the fine silk of her hair. “You’ll never be rid of me, Anna Blue.”
She traced shapes on his chest and shoulder. “If you run, I’ll hunt you down, Mr.
Hawkins.”
“Promise?”
“You got my word.” She made an X over his heart.
“I ain’t running.” He drew the same mark on the center of her chest.
They kissed to seal the deal.
He looked into the darkness out the window. “But I still ain’t splitting my bounty with you.”
“Not if I get it first.”
“After all this, Song should pay us double.”
She nodded. “How about he gives us use of his lodge?”
He pulled her a little closer. “I’d take that as payment.”
Anna ran her hand over the velvet of the settee. “So fine. The only way we get into a room like this is after it’s dead.”
Looks of fear, distrust, and hate were common for a man like him. He knew what she felt, living on the outside. “Ain’t no one in the territory who can stop us. We’ll go where we want.”
“Make it sound easy.”
“It’s never easy. But who better to do it than us?”
She was silent for a while. When she spoke again, her voice carried her familiar confidence. “No one.”
He shucked the sheath and tossed it into a dark corner of the room. “Don’t have to worry about anyone finding it.”
They slowly disentangled their bodies and stood. Both knew the threat was still out in the darkness. It was just a matter of time before it came crashing down.
Dressing quickly, they buckled all their weapons back on. She took hold of his harness, adjusting it on his chest.
“Next time we stay in a room like this, we sleep past sunrise.”
“On the bed, even.” He picked up her buffalo cape and handed it to her. She draped it over her shoulders and sat in the chair where they’d just made love. Across her lap was the ether-charged Winchester.
A quick search through a saddlebag produced a canteen of water and pemmican. He sat, facing the windows for the view of the empty street and black mountains. All the guns were loaded. The device rested on the stool, a mechanical watchdog.
They shared the food and water, recounting the dim sum meal and all the new foods they tried. Passing the canteen back and forth, they disagreed about where to find the best whiskey in California. Neither had tried much wine, but Jack tried to explain what it was like to drink the grappa an Italian family had offered him. He remembered where their farm and vineyard were, said the door was always open to them.
The wind outside died, resurrected, then died again. It brought the mineral smells of the mountains in with it. With the moon set, time passed with the nearly imperceptible movement of the stars. But what they were waiting for didn’t depend on time. Alarm clocks or sunrise wouldn’t mark the beginning of the day or chores or labor in an office. This work started with the falling of a hammer.
Jack pulled his shotgun and rested it on his leg, hand light on the grip. “Get a little shut-eye. I’ll take first watch.”
She didn’t settle in right away. Instead she spoke slowly, deliberately choosing her words. “Pete Glenn. Told you he and I tangled before I took him in. It took me a while to find out he’d been lying. Two months.” Jack remained silent, letting her unfold the story and, with it, deeper emotions. “I got wrapped up. Broke my heart. If his plan had worked, I’d have lost everything. Reputation, livelihood. I swore I’d never let a man do that.”
He knew it couldn’t be easy for her to tell him. But that’s how brave she was.
Anna spoke again, “I ain’t going to lose myself.”
“I’d never ask that of you.” He spoke from the heart. “Why would I want to change the only woman who truly knows who I am?”
“It would be a tragedy.”
He wanted to reach out to her, but some things had to be put into words, solid for all to see, like a wax seal. “It would ruin me.”
The breath seemed to come a little easier in her. “Then we’ll have to keep that from happening.”
Still holding the rifle across her lap, she pulled the cape tighter and stretched her legs out. Trained like he was, she fell asleep quickly. He knew that at the first sign of trouble, she’d be awake and ready to fight just as fast.
Her long slow breathing was his blanket. He wrapped himself in the memory of their lovemaking. Sharing the Chinese meal. Shooting down some of those rogue bastards and solving Song’s message.
But he couldn’t watch her sleep. Then he’d want to wrap her up with him, carry her off to some high peak of the mountains, and never come down. Instead he looked at the dim outline of the gold scrollwork on his black shotgun. It wasn’t just a weapon, or a tool. It was a work of art. And he was the artist.
Enough time passed and he nudged her boot with his. She was immediately awake, hands tightening on her Winchester.
“No trouble,” he told her. “Your watch.”
She nodded, rubbing at her face. He closed his eyes, the image of her silhouette lingering until he fell asleep.
And he woke with her hand on his shoulder. He swung the shotgun out, but she moved her hand to his forearm.
Pale blue light lined her face. “Dawn.”
He stood, stretching to work out the kinks in his back and legs. “All quiet?”
“So far.” She collected her hair in a ponytail. “But we know how that goes.”
“Storm coming.” For the first time he was able to see the room. High ceilings and peeling red velvet wallpaper. Gold paint flecked off most of the furniture. He wandered toward a far corner. “We ain’t planning on coming back, are we?”
“You said we’ll go to legitimate places.”
“I still mean it.” He turned away from her, undid his fly, and made use of a chamber pot. When he was done, he turned back to the brightening room. “You need to … ?”
She gave him a wry smile. “Already taken care of. I used the water closet, like a lady.”
“Ain’t you a fancy one, Miss Blue.” He approached her. “One night in a fine hotel and you’re real society.”
The stood face to face. She looked him straight in the eyes.
“Don’t want to be real society.”
He took her hands in his. “We’re whatever we make ourselves.”
She tugged on his hands, brought him in for a kiss. It was a little good morning and a lot of promises for more.
Breaking from the kiss, she stepped back, still holding his hands. “Then we’re the best hunters in the territory.”
“Damn straight. And everything else we are, that’s just for us.”
Her eyes were brighter than the dawn. “It’s only you and me.”
“Always.”
Jagged buzzing interrupted their next kiss. The detector rattled on the wooden stool. She snatched it up and put it in her pocket. They both crouched low and searched out the windows.
“South,” she whispered.
The Man O’ War’s airship glided low toward town. Its cannons and Gatling guns were all manned. Like a dog bristling, the ship was ready for an attack. Four ropes dangled over one side of the ship. Men slid down these ropes. At least one of them had an ether rifle slung over his back. The craft slowed as it hovered twenty feet over the buildings. With the sun still behind the mountains, the shadows were too deep to see where the men went as they disappeared into the town. Once they were deployed, the ship rose higher, speeding toward the mine in the steep hills.
He kept his voice down, though with the wind outside, the men couldn’t hear them anyway. “We’re gonna have to get through those four if we’re making a play for the ship.”
“I’ll go up, you go down.”
“Sure I will.” He gave her a wink.
They quickly collected their gear and slipped out the door of the room. The hallway was dark, floorboards warped by the sagging building. They found the stairwell and paused. She took their gear in one hand, balancing her rifle in the other. This was completely uncharted for him. He knew she could handle herself, but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave her alone before a fight.
&nb
sp; She must’ve seen his struggle. So she smiled, gave him a kiss, and started up the stairs. Her voice echoed down from above. “Shoot straight.”
He descended the stairs, passing the decay of the once-opulent hotel. Wood joints separated. Shafts of light stabbed through the walls. Keeping his feet over the joists and supports, he moved as silently as possible.
Nature had nearly taken the first-floor lobby of the hotel. The front doors were gone and the wind swirled dust and dirt inside. The furniture was so coated it looked like mounds of earth. The reception desk was a miniature mesa, carved by erosion. Jack’s footprints were the last that would dot this landscape.
The sun had finally risen over the mountains, forging hard shadows around the buildings of Mineral City. Jack stepped out of the hotel and onto the boardwalk. He pulled his hat low against the wind.
Shutters slapped. Hinges creaked. Buildings groaned. He paid no attention to those noises. He tuned for human sounds. Oiled metal, cloth, boot leather. Even the dawn birds were quickly ignored.
There was no building higher than the hotel. Any of those airship sailors tried to get him from a rooftop, Anna would take them down. So it was the men on ground level he wanted. Slowly, he strode up the boardwalk, shotgun in his right hand, .44 in his left.
The scrape of a boot turned him to face a building across the street. About forty feet away, one of the crewmembers stood, ether pistol in hand, squinting his eyes over the town. Jack stood still, waiting for the man to spot him. When the crewmember did, he froze.
The man barked a rough laugh. He spoke with a heavy accent. “Almost didn’t see you in the dark, black.”
Jack’s answer was a single shot from his pistol. The bullet found the man, knocking him back through the brittle glass of an abandoned shop.
The fight officially started. And Jack was the grand marshal on ground level. Anna conducted from above.
