by Lana Gotham
Chapter 11
“Jon,” I gasped. My lover stood at the other end of the porch, watching me with the Vigilante. I’d stopped moving, but the Vigilante still sucked and fingered me. He still sent me hurdling toward the edge without abandon as he strummed my clit like a guitar. I knew I should sit up, to get him to stop, but I didn’t. I watched Jon—friend and lover—as he gazed down at me, his gold skin aglow in the full moonlight.
I couldn’t help it—even as I watched Jon, the pressure continued to build through me, and my wet hot pussy throbbed and pulsed against the Vigilante’s working fingers. “Mmm.” I couldn’t stop the sounds of pleasure on my lips. He continued to press and suck and lick. I ached with need. I watched Jon and suddenly, I wanted him too. I wanted him—that man of mine—like I’d never wanted anything before.
The look on Jon’s face was as intense as ever, but there was no anger. There was no reading any emotion—same as always.
“Jon,” I gasped again. He wore dark slacks and a flannel shirt with the first three buttons undone, showing the lightest dusting of fine black hair. The muscles of his firm biceps pressed against his shirt. He didn’t wear his hat, and on his feet were his dark boots. His holster carried his pistol and looped onto his belt were my hand cuffs. Just seeing him made me want him. Watching him while another man was touching me, fingering me, sucking me—I needed him.
My back arched against the wood as the Vigilante again bit lightly against my clit and thrust his fingers hard into me. I pushed against him craving more. “Please,” I whispered. “I need...”
“What do you need?” The Vigilante interrupted.
I heard Jon’s boots walk closer. “Yes. Little-Wolf, why don’t you tell us what you need?” For the first time, Jon’s voice held a hint of mischief.
My slit tightened, as the pressure built again. My nipples stood erect and chills broke across my body as every nerve ending stood on end, ready for more. What did I need?
“I need...you. Both of you.” I couldn’t believe I said the words even as they left my mouth. What did I expect? For Jon—my serious lover—to come and fuck me with another man?
The Vigilante grinned. “If that is what you need then that is what we will give you.”
I looked to my lover standing on the porch, my face full of question. What would Jon say? What would he do? Would he think I was ridiculous? Would he think me a slut? I remembered he’d once been married. Once been a father. Surely his wife—the mother of his child—would never have asked to be fucked by two men at once.
I didn’t have to wonder long. Jon crossed the porch and unbuttoned his shirt, and threw it to the ground. “As this man says. If that is what you need, Little Wolf, then that is what you shall have.”
The Vigilante paused, and raised to his knees. I continued to lay sprawled open and bare and ready. My pussy ached with need, tender and pink.
“Roll onto your stomach,” Jon commanded. Usually when we fucked, it was me who took control. I set the pace and made the rules. Sometimes Jon teased, and threatened to go slow if I whined or didn’t beg—but usually it was all about me. For Jon to sound so forceful, I obeyed (gladly) without hesitation. I rolled to my stomach. My hipbones dug into the wood and the porch was cold against my chest. I pressed my cheek against the wood, wondering with a shiver of readiness, what would happen next. My pussy was wet, and the tongue and fingers had been good—great—I was ready for more. I wondered which one would fuck me. Or if they’d take turns. Would Jon really be okay with another man inside of me? Cumming in me?
My mind raced with the thought.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Jon instructed again. My cheek pressed against the floor as I obeyed. I heard the sound of my handcuffs unhook from his belt, and a second later, they bound my wrists. They were too tight and cold but it only added to my excitement. I was never out of control—not once. I was the Sheriff. The first woman Sheriff in a town that resented me for it, but I kept total control, because control was my responsibility. I hadn’t realized that it was taking a toll on me until I was able to let go of the control and give in, and live for the feeling.
I heard Jon’s zipper, then he slid his hands under my arms (my hands and arms still bound behind my back) and hoisted me up. I was eye level with his long, hard cock. The end was wet, evidence of his excitement and readiness. “I hope you are hungry, Little Wolf,” he said, and before I could tell him I wanted it, he thrust his cock in my mouth. Jon pushed his dick against the back of my throat. It was salty and perfect. I ran my tongue around the crease of his cock’s head, as I was held up completely by his strength. Jon began to move me back and force, as he fucked my face. I relished the loss of control, as his huge dick moved in and out in and out. My slit grew wetter and hotter.
Two hands grabbed my ass cheeks hard, and kneaded and rubbed. A second later, with a solid push, the Vigilante entered me. I wanted to cry out, but Jon thrusted into my throat, silencing me. Both men fucked me, hard and fast. My pert tits bounced with each thrust as the men somehow moved in rhythm. The pressure built with my lusty excitement, until I felt I would burst. They moved, in and out. My wet pussy covered the Vigilante, and my mouth covered Jon.
I moaned and my eyes rolled back as my body jerked involuntarily, my pussy tightened around the Vigilante’s dick as an explosion of ecstasy erupted from deep in my core. My lips tightened around his dick, clenching. I cried out in ecstasy. Still he fucked me.
A moment later Jon shuttered, and I swallowed the salty taste of him. The Vigilante thrust in me so hard my face pushed into Jon’s stomach and with that final movement, he finished.
Chapter 12
I rolled out of bed and landed on the floor with a thump. “Ah,” I cried out.
I shook my head to clear away the cob webs. I looked around the room. I was inside—not on the porch. It was dark. There was no strange sound.
There was no Vigilante.
“Little Wolf, are you okay?” Jon rolled over and eyed me from his spot on the bed.
It had all been...a dream? But it was so real. I was naked and wet and my nipples were raw and puckered, but I was in my room. I remembered that I’d been naked when I’d fallen asleep next to Jon. But I’d worn a night shirt onto the porch...when I’d met the Vigilante. It wasn’t real. The realization was a relief and a disappointment.
“I had a crazy dream, I guess,” I said and stood up to crawl back I bed.
Jon smirked. “You were moaning in your sleep. What kind of crazy dream were you having?”
I felt my cheeks flame, and I was glad for the darkness. Sheriffs don’t blush. I was a bad ass. I didn’t get embarrassed. Not about sexy dreams. Not about anything. “I...I can’t remember,” I lied. Okay. Maybe I was embarrassed.
Someone should have told my rosy, hot cheeks about me being a bad ass. Because they obviously didn’t get the memo.
I climbed back into the bed and Jon pulled me close to him and thrust a hand between my thighs. He moved his fingers inside me and grinned. “You don’t remember your dream, huh? Because it seems like your body sure does.”
I smiled coyly and opened my legs for him. The dream had been so real my body had even responded, and I was ready to go.
Jon slid on top of me and filled me. He thrust hard, knocking my head against the wooden slats of the headboard. I cried out, orgasming almost instantly. I was so turned on, so swollen and ready and horny from my dream, that as soon as I took all of Jon’s dick, I came.
Jon, always so serious, smiled above me as he thrust harder and harder, until finally he finished. “Dreams are fun, Little Wolf, but reality is better.” He covered my mouth with his own, then slid from on top of me. He pulled me close, spooning his long body around me. Thoroughly exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep. This time, there were no dreams.
“I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE that about old Mr. Cartwright,” Tom said.
We were on horseback, making our way to get a much needed drink at The Rusty Nail. The crazy which e
rupted after finding Viktor Daigle’s body, had begun to subside, and that morning it had been back to work as usual.
Tom had spent the whole day thus far hoping someone would burst into our office to report that the killer had struck again. Poor fool was almost saddened that there hadn’t been a fresh body to investigate. He’d perked up a little when I shared what I’d discovered about Jo Cartwright.
I still didn’t tell him about the Vigilante. I told myself it was for his own good. Truly, I didn’t trust my cheeks not to redden if I mentioned my masked lover in any context. Tom wasn’t a smart man, but he read enough detective stories. They gave him the annoying habit of always searching for clues in any context. If my cheeks flamed, he might not draw the correct conclusion, but he’d work at drawing a conclusion just the same.
“I mean, I always kinda felt like something was a little off with that Robinson fellar, but old Mr. Cartwright? Are you sure, Sheriff?”
“I’m positive, Tom. I’ve been thinking, it must have been one of his reasons for settling way out here in the middle of nowhere. He must have known there’d be a lot of people who wouldn’t be too fond of him, to put it mildly.”
Tom thought for a moment, “All these people murdered, and it turns out they all sort of had it coming. I’m starting to think the fellar behind it all might be doing me and you a favor.”
“You just might be right,” I said.
Next to me, Tom beamed. “Aw shucks, now Sheriff. You think so?” He wiped a hand over his face and looked into the sky. “Maybe I am getting better at this here side kick gig after all.”
I stifled a chuckle. “Maybe so, Tom.”
Chapter 13
That night, I knew what to expect the moment Diana’s ears flicked forward. I hopped from my saddle, and let her run, knowing that there would be no calming the stubborn mare.
I walked alone down the dirt trail, halfway between my cabin and the town. I was in the middle of nowhere and I could feel his eyes on me with every step. Memories of my dream sent tingles through me, and I breathed deep. It wasn’t real—I knew that—but I could feel his lips, his tongue. I could feel his fingers exploring me. My body responded with lusty anticipation.
My face warmed with blush and I ignored the feelings, trying to push the naughty memories from my mind.
“I know you are watching me,” I called. “You might as well come on out now.”
I didn’t stop, even as gooseflesh broke across my body.
“Did you find the answers you were looking for?” His amused voice answered from behind me.
“Dammit!” I yelped and spun around.
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me! What’s the point, anyway? I get it. You’re mysterious.” I snapped, while attempting to catch my breath.
He smirked.
“And to answer your question, yes,” I said.
“And?” he asks.
“And, well, I don’t know. My deputy, Tom, thinks you are doing us a favor, culling the scum who are too powerful to ever pay the penalty for their crimes.”
“Tom said that?” the man asked. A grin spread across his face. I couldn’t blame him. Tom never used words like “cull” or “penalty”.
“Well, not exactly. But it’s what he meant.”
“But what do you think, Alyssa?”
“I think...I think that I don’t know,” I said. “I have always been able to tell right from wrong.” For me, it’s always been black and white. No gray areas. It’s an intuition that is part of my birthright. It’s why a Davis is always Sheriff. There is no election. No time put in as deputy. When a Davis child is born in GloryLand, the parents immediately begin training them to take over one day. It was also almost impossible to harm us physically. To make me bleed or pierce my skin required more than a fist or a knife.
Before me, the offspring was always male. Mama cried and Daddy hung his head, but when Mama was told there would be no more babies by her doctor, they quickly changed their rune and got on board. My whole life, Daddy told me I’d have to be extra-tough, and meaner than any man, just to get the same job done. He’d told me over and over, drilling it into my mind, that the world wasn’t a fair place and it was going to be really unfair for me—but it was the cross I was destined to bare, so I had to buck up and accept my fate.
I’d started shooting as soon as I could hold a gun. I could ride a horse by three. I’d learned what questions to ask and what answers to listen for. Most importantly, I’d learned to trust my gut.
But now? Now I wasn’t so sure.
“You agree that those people deserved to die?”
“Yeah. But not without a trial. Not without some sort of dignity.” Even I could hear the lie in my words.
“You mean like the dignity they gave their victims? The dignity afforded to Imogene-Clair? And the countless children who were separated from their parents on the Indian Trail? Or how about Scarlett Jones? That’s the name of the woman that Ronnie Robinson beat with a fire poker. What about her dignity?”
The Vigilante stepped toward me. My breathing hitched.
“And how about you, Alyssa? If I hadn’t taken care of Viktor Daigle, you wouldn’t even be here. He would’ve had you killed, just like he has so many others.”
“I doubt it,” I rasped. And it was true. It would have been really hard, if not impossible, for Viktor to kill me. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have inflicted a lot of damage. And being kidnapped and beat to a pulp didn’t sound like a good time. And Viktor would have enjoyed every twisted moment of it. Of all the men who resented a female Sheriff, he was the worst.
“I saved you, Alyssa,” he insisted.
“I don’t need saving.” Before the words were even out of my mouth, he pulled me into a kiss. His arms circled my waist, and he gathered me close to him. My own arms hung loose at my sides from shock. Silently, I gave in to the rush of the embrace.
Almost. With one hand I rubbed his back, the other, out of instinct, closed around my revolver.
He ran a hand under my shirt, and with calloused fingers, caressed my breast. Familiar desire seared its path through me. His rough fingers continued to explore my breasts. He squeezed, then traced a tiny circle around my right nipple.
Even in the kiss, I gasped. I didn’t twist away or move for him to stop. It was brazen on his part, but it was what I wanted. I thought of the dream and heat gathered in my core.
The kiss and embrace ended too soon. The Vigilante released me and stepped back, leaving me rumpled and staggering. He smiled at me and turned to leave.
I ached physically at the thought of him going, and before he could disappear, I heard myself say, “Wait!”
“Yes?” He asked.
“Just. Just wait.”
He turned and for a moment, we stared at each other. The air hummed with electricity and the promise that we weren’t finished.
I never would have believed that you could want someone so badly. I had Jon, but I wanted my Vigilante, too. Ever since the dream... Was it wrong to crave two men? Two very different men?
I didn’t care.
“You don’t have to leave yet,” I said.
The masked man seemed to hear what I meant, instead of what I said. He swept me into his arms. He took me from the path, and within minutes, I was lying in a patch sparse grass, far enough away from the horse path to go unnoticed.
What am I doing? I thought, but lust pushed aside the worry.
He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth, as if he couldn’t get enough. He worked his way toward my ear and then down my neck.
He continued down, stopping at my shirt. When I moved to unbutton the cumbersome piece of clothing, he pinned my hands above my head, and leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I don’t need help Sheriff.” With one movement, he ripped the shirt open, and picked up where he’d stopped.
He moved his tongue expertly over my exposed breast, outlining first one sensitive, pink circle, and then the other. The stubble of his fac
e rubbed against my tender flesh, and heat and chills pulsed through me at the same time, fighting for dominance.
My back arched away from the ground as need and desire swelled in me until I felt I couldn’t stand it, and just when I thought I was going to explode with ecstasy, he stopped.
I looked at him, my eyes full of question.
His eyes crinkled devilishly as he smiled at me, and he continued with his tongue down my belly toward new territory at an agonizingly slow pace. I want to burst with a combination of pleasure and frustration. It was both familiar and foreign from the night in my dream. I’d had his lips on my sex, his dick inside me...but not really. In a way, this was all very new.
I wiggled my hips slightly, and he paused. Again he looked at me with devil eyes, his half-cocked grin back in place.
He enjoys making me squirm, I realized.
“Some things take time to be done right, Alyssa.” This time, instead of picking up where I interrupted him, he back tracks, and again starts working his way down from my lips to my ears to my clavicle to my breast at a slow pace.
When he finally made it to the waistband of my pants, every nerve ending in my body stood at attention. With his tongue, he traced my waist of my trousers, not making a move to unsnap them.
I reached toward the fastener and he sat up. Shaking his head, he “tsk tsked” and takes my wrists in his large hands and again pins them over my head. The game was familiar. It was a favorite between Jon and I. It was fun and erotic...and at that moment terrible. My body ached for the Vigilante in a way it had never ached for anyone. It yearned for him. It wasn’t a want. It wasn’t a desire. It was a need.
He kissed me on the lips and still holding my wrists with one hand, he slid the other down my pants, and then with expert fingers, inside of me.
I am wet with desire. So wet. I open my eyes into two thin slits, and see that above me the stars are shining brightly. Somewhere in the distance, an owl was calling to its mate, while the delicious smell and taste of magic surrounded me, rolling off of my lover like steam.
