The Gunfighter and The Gear-Head
Page 17
“He and Hawkins had the same father,” Gieo said, slapping her forehead at the realization. “They’ve been working together this whole time.”
“Yes, that is where I was going with that,” Veronica said, not hardly perturbed by her big reveal being spoiled.
“That explains the cache and a lot of the shit he’s been putting me through lately, but that doesn’t explain the horses or why Zeke just stumbled out of your place after being worked over,” Fiona said.
“The Slark fuel is almost gone,” Veronica said. “I told Zeke I knew of a way to stretch the remainder and make him wealthy in the process; he was so panicked about the prospect of being left with nothing that he jumped at the chance. I failed to tell him I had every intention of reintroducing the horse to Tombstone long before the fuel was gone. We’ve been doing it all over the west and it has worked fantastically. He saw the livery train, put the pieces together, and came over claiming I skunked him on our deal. He was lucky we let him walk out after some of the things he said.”
“We’re with you, Red,” Danny said. “Just let us know what you need done.”
“He’ll go after the horses,” Gieo said, “and he’ll use the cultists to do it.”
“The horses are on their way to the old high school on Gun Club Road,” Veronica said. “They’re probably already there under as heavy of a guard as we can manage right now.”
“Add Mitch’s truck with the gun platform from your airship to the defenses,” Fiona told Gieo. She turned to Danny and the rest of the hunters. “Go with Veronica and help however you can.”
Gieo fell in behind the departing hunters as if to follow them outside to carry out Fiona’s orders. When the crowd was sufficiently clogging the door with Veronica on the other side, she grabbed Danny by the back of the jacket and pulled him back inside. Fiona and Danny both gave Gieo a perplexed look.
“The horses aren’t the only target,” Gieo said. “You don’t need Molotov cocktails to kill horses.”
“So what else is he hitting?” Danny asked.
“The Slark fuel depot,” Gieo said. “He’ll likely send a group there to take out the fuel if they can’t get to the horses—if he can’t have the fuel, he definitely won’t want us to. I’m sure Veronica has figured this out too, but isn’t saying. If Zeke destroys the depot, she’ll have the monopoly.”
“Danny and I can handle that,” Fiona said. “Go with Veronica and get that gun platform to the high school.”
Gieo looked hurt, but walked away to carry out the order. Fiona followed her out the back of the saloon, around the side street to the old convenience store with the mortar shell hole in the side. Mitch’s truck was squirreled away in what was left of the building. He had reinforced the walls so they only looked like they would fall in if sneezed on; it was a lovely hiding spot as nobody wanted anything to do with the seeming death trap. It would be a slow crawl, even if Mitch and Bond-O could be found to help in the driving and stoking, but they were likely ahead of the curve on Zeke’s plan and thus had the necessary hours to spare.
Fiona’s heart was thundering in her ears with every step. She’d been steadily walking away from what she knew ever since she’d met Gieo and now she found herself on the edge of a cliff, miles from the beaten path, with nothing else to do but jump. Fiona caught up to Gieo before she could disappear into Mitch’s hiding spot for his truck. She spun the pilot around and pressed her against the cinder brick wall of the crumbling convenience store. She kissed her hard, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other holding her chin to keep her head still through the violent kiss. Gieo moaned into Fiona’s mouth, clawing at the gunfighter’s clothing with clumsy aggression. Fiona broke the kiss; they stood mere inches apart, breathless and wanting.
“Tell Mitch and the kitchen boy to get the truck out to the high school,” Fiona said, her voice flinty with desire, “then come up to my room. I have something to show you.” There was no turning back on any of it anymore; she’d jumped in more ways than one, and now she had to find out if she had wings.
Fiona walked away, leaving Gieo gasping against the wall, butterflies of anticipation fluttering through her stomach. The pilot watched Fiona’s slender ass and long legs in the brown, leather pants as she walked away. Gieo came to the conclusion that the view of Fiona walking away was more attractive than Veronica’s cleavage-flirtation-posture, especially since Fiona’s was a passive beauty while Veronica’s only worked while focused.
Gieo ran off to find Mitch with a pronounced spring in her step.
Mitch and Bond-O were steaming their way toward the high school with a couple hunters as escort. It would take close to an hour to get the truck out there, which Mitch was none too happy about as the truck used to have a double digit top speed that it just didn’t have with Gieo’s new engine plan. It would be nearly unstoppable and wouldn’t run out of fuel anytime soon though, which may or may not make up for the 8 MPH cruising speed.
Gieo slipped through the dark, silent saloon, knocking on Fiona’s door with a few tentative taps. A sliver of soft, candlelight crept out from beneath the crack under the door. She heard Fiona invite her in. Gieo opened the door to find a dozen or so candles giving the room a rosy glow. Fiona stood near the bed, lighting a handful of candles on the night stand. She was wearing a black, lace-panel bustier with matching lace boy-cut panties and the largest, reddest strap-on Gieo had ever seen. When she was done lighting the candles, she straightened up to her full height, her bronzed body and lovely lingerie glimmering in the candlelight. For an instant, beneath everything Fiona had become, Gieo could see the vulnerable woman she had been before the Slark—the same beautifully exposed quality that had made her fall in love with Fiona before they’d ever met.
“You are so beautiful right now, I could cry,” Gieo said. “I thought you didn’t like underwear though…”
“For you, I’ll make an exception,” Fiona said.
“As sweet as this is,” Gieo said with a mischievous smile, “I hope you’re not planning on taking it easy on me.”
“That was never the plan.”
Gieo crossed the room to her. Fiona met her halfway. Their lips practically collided; their hands exchanged awkward gropes through clothing. Within minutes, they were both panting, eager, and flushed with excitement. Fiona turned Gieo around until her chest was against the pilot’s back, pulled up the front of her skirt, and plunged her hand down the front of Gieo’s black cotton panties. Her long, powerful fingers pressed down between Gieo’s lips, finding their way inside her, discovering her already warm and wet.
Gieo practically fell limp in Fiona’s arms. She rested her head back against the gunfighter’s shoulder, rolling her hips against the fingers slipping in and out of her, thrilling at the sensation of the huge strap-on rubbing lewdly against her ass with every motion they made together. Fiona’s free hand came up to her breast, massaging it through the tight material of the top of her dress, teasing her nipple until it strained to poke through the fabric. Gieo reached up and pulled the front of her dress down, freeing her breasts to sit atop the folded material, giving Fiona full access to her hard, little nipples.
“Are you ready?” Fiona whispered hotly in her ear.
“Don’t ask,” Gieo moaned, “just take.”
Fiona pressed her hand against the center of Gieo’s back and bent her over the edge of the bed. Gieo managed to get her hands out in front of her to prevent bouncing awkwardly. With her feet still planted on the floor, legs straight, and ass in the air, she thrilled at the sudden shift to being entirely vulnerable. Fiona flipped up the back of Gieo’s skirt, grasped her underwear by the waistband, and pulled them down to knee level, preventing Gieo’s legs from parting entirely. Surprisingly, she knelt first behind the pilot, her hands making their way up the backs of Gieo’s legs, puzzling until Gieo felt Fiona’s tongue plunge into her from behind. Fiona’s darting lapping and occasional full plunges sent warm shivers across Gieo’s skin, adding to an arousal already on t
he cusp of overwhelming. At the edge of begging, Gieo finally felt the enormous, bulbous head of the strap-on press against her lips and then it was inside her, slipping easily into her, filling her up in a way she had positively ached for. She practically screamed in joy at feeling Fiona’s hands on her hips, not realizing until that moment, how much she’d wanted to feel Fiona from this exact position; it wasn’t her first time for this type of treatment, but the only other time was far too short and too long ago to remember as anything but fantasy. Gieo gripped at the sheets, buried her face in the bed, stifling her passionate moans as the strap-on slid in and out of her in long, beautiful strokes, big on the edge of too big.
Something about Gieo’s posture irritated Fiona. She positioned her legs outside Gieo’s forcing them in together, creating an added edge of tightness and resistance to thrusting the strap-on into the pilot. To prevent any further gasps or moans of pleasure from being lost into the muffling bed, Fiona grasped the back of Gieo’s collar and pulled it back, yanking her head up. Gieo gasped at the rough treatment more in pleasure than discomfort. Forced to let every sound of her bliss float out into the air, Gieo found she was more vocal than she’d ever remembered. Hazy memories of the peyote night filtered back—she was a screamer when it came to Fiona. The delicious, filling thrusts of the strap-on pressed down against her g-spot, sending shockwaves through her system with every hard push Fiona made. Gieo was screaming, barely able to mix Fiona’s name into the jumble, begging for more, begging for harder, begging for faster. Fiona, to her credit, met every request by redoubling her efforts until Gieo was dead certain she would never walk right again, and wouldn’t even care to try. A rolling orgasm, weeks in the making and fucked right out of her with astounding energy, buckled her knees and sent an undulating twinge down her legs.
Fiona, satisfied with her handiwork, lay across Gieo’s back, leaving the strap-on fully buried inside her, to kiss Gieo lovingly on the back of the neck. She released her hold on the collar, letting Gieo’s head drop to the bed in an exhausted flop. Gieo focused on the sweet hereafter, determined to remember everything about the moment with Fiona’s breasts pressed against her back, feeling ridden hard and put away wet, all with a deep satisfaction on more than just the sexual level.
“This might just be because I’ve never been fucked like that, but I think I’m falling for you,” Gieo said. She felt something cold and wet drop on her cheek. It took her a moment to figure out it was likely a tear.
“If one or both of us doesn’t make it back after tonight, I want you to know, ever since I met you, you’ve made my life worth living,” Fiona whispered.
Gieo reached out to find Fiona’s hand on the bed beside her head. She interlaced their fingers and gave her hand a hard squeeze. The dire need and speed of the night’s events prevented true processing of exactly how dangerous of a proposition it all might end up being. In the contemplative moments after earth-shattering sex, all the doubts and fears came rushing in.
“We both have to make it,” Gieo said with steely determination. “You have to do this to me at least once a day for the next twenty or so years. I’ve already mentally scheduled it.”
Fiona slipped from her. The absence of the strap-on inside her and the gunfighter on top of her felt a little lonely to Gieo; she immediately wished for the return of both. She rolled onto her back and pulled up her underwear. She stared up at the ceiling with a little smile playing across her lips—she was going to be deliciously sore tomorrow, and looked forward to the physical reminder of their night together.
Chapter 15: Dust-up disrupted.
It had taken Mitch and Bond-O so long to get the truck moving that Gieo was able to catch up at a slow jog mixed with a brisk walk. She climbed aboard and hooked herself into the gun platform ready to spin the gyroscopes atop the boiler on the bed of the truck should the need arise. She didn’t imagine anyone would attack the truck with the enormous quad gun manned; besides, the thing’s engine sounded like the thunder of the gods, belching steam and smoke to match. Bond-O, wearing a leather apron of his own, thick work gloves, and goggles worked the bellows and pumps required to keep the engine at top performance while Mitch drove, shouting directions out the back window to keep the easily distracted chef on task. Bond-O waved up to Gieo when she scrambled onto the truck—the two empty fingers on the glove of his left hand waggling comically with the wave.
The sun had long set by the time they rolled up to the old high school. The hastily built ramparts, gun platforms, and barriers around the dusty brick buildings spoke of an anticipated attack from all sides. The horses had been moved off the playing fields into the gymnasium to give them an iota of protection. A few of the Ravens directed the truck into a position in the dead center of the primary firing line. The cultists would be on foot, coming from just about anywhere, but the hunters would need something flat and smooth enough to drive over. Gun Club Road would be the only entryway for them, funneling them right into a hornet’s nest of firepower with Gieo’s quad gun at the center.
Gieo unhooked herself from the turret and hopped down to find Veronica waiting for her. Veronica gently cradled Gieo’s face in her soft hands, smiling brightly to her. Before Gieo could ask what was going on, Veronica was hugging her tightly. She smelled of strawberry candy and clean linen. Her arms were strong, but the hug held the softness only inherent to hugging another woman; Gieo rested her head on Veronica’s shoulder to savor the sensation she had almost forgotten existed.
“You’re so brave to join us,” Veronica whispered to her. “We won’t forget this.”
“I can’t fight,” Gieo said.
Veronica pulled the hug back to arm’s length and cocked an eyebrow.
“I can shoot the gun,” Gieo said, “but I know I couldn’t shoot at people.”
“Then I won’t ask you to.” Veronica smiled and touched Gieo’s cheek. “Does the bartender know how to operate it?”
“No, and it wouldn’t work to teach him anyway,” Gieo said. “The turret has to hook into clothing, and the dress I’m wearing is the only clothing I have with me that will work.”
“Clever way to keep the Slark from using any of your salvaged weapons since they don’t really wear clothes,” Veronica said with a smile that shot pride right through Gieo. “Can you teach Stephanie how to fire it?”
“Of course, but I don’t want to just sit idly by while…”
“Don’t worry about that,” Veronica said. “I know just the thing for you. Find Stephanie, get her situated, and then come see me at the top of the front steps.”
Finding Stephanie was an easy proposition. Many of the Ravens had dyed hair, but Stephanie seemed to be the only one in the area who favored pink. She was standing a post at the edge of the rampart with two other Ravens who were doing more chatting than guarding.
“Hey, Gieo,” Stephanie said as Gieo approached. “Good to see you again.” The affected smile Stephanie wore said it was indeed good to see her, but the blank stare in her eyes said she couldn’t care less.
“How are you at handling big guns?” Gieo asked.
The other two women in Stephanie’s guard duty snickered a little under their breath.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I handle them just fine,” Stephanie snapped. “I don’t know what you heard, but there are other reasons someone might choke on…I mean, you throw up on one guy and suddenly…”
“No, not at all what I meant,” Gieo said quickly cutting off any further explanation. “The gun pod on the back of the truck.” Gieo pointed to it looming above the firing line. “Veronica wanted me to teach you to use it.”
“Oh,” Stephanie said, still letting the information sweep away her indignation. “OH! I’d love to!” She grabbed Gieo by the hand and dragged her toward the truck.
“There’s just one problem.” Gieo eyed the revealing outfit Stephanie was wearing with a creeping sense of doom. “We have to switch clothes. The turret is something you have to hook into to operate.”
/> Stephanie stopped pulling her, turned to get a good look at Gieo’s outfit, and smiled her approval. “That’s a cute dress,” she said, “no problem.” Stephanie shifted directions and began pulling Gieo toward the school buildings. One of the trailer classrooms sitting a bit apart from the main body of the school was being used as a changing room by many of the Ravens who apparently had been pulled from work without being given a chance to change clothes. The beautiful flowers of women who entered exited in military fatigues and body armor. Gieo’s spirits rose when she realized she would be wearing desert camouflage instead of Stephanie’s chemise.