Disorder in the House [How the West Was Done 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

But almost the moment Zeke lectured them, the planchette began to move. Everyone gasped as it raced over the polished board to the letter S. Then an H. Then an A.

  “Shady,” whispered Liberty.

  Zeke said, “Don’t think ahead of time of what it might say. Try to keep your mind a blank. Otherwise your hands might accidentally intentionally push the planchette where you want it to go.”

  That made sense, but it still spelled out SHADY IS SCARING BRULE.

  “Brulé,” Garrett told a quizzical Liberty. “That’s the tribe of Sioux we have here.” Louder, he said, “Where is Shady scaring the Brulé?”

  ROCK WITH TREE.

  “Great,” said Levi. “We already knew that. But where is this rock with a tree? Paddy, is that you?”

  The planchette swished to where YES was printed on the board.

  “Paddy,” said Levi. “Where is this rock with a tree?”

  The basket spelled out SHADY SCATTERS BONES. Then, HE HAS WAKAN.

  Liberty frowned. “What is wakan, I wonder?”

  Garrett explained. “Wakan means anything that is strange or mysterious to the Indians. Like, if we call someone a medicine man. The Sioux call him wakan man. Taku-wakan means anything that is wakan.”

  “Yes,” agreed Levi. “They have another word that means spirit or God, but the word wakan is never used that way.”

  “So,” said Liberty. “Shady is being…mysterious or strange. By scattering bones.”

  “Yes,” Garrett agreed. “I suppose that’s how he’s scaring the Indians.”

  Zeke exploded, pounding the table with his fist. “Wakanana, I knew it!” The other three séance-goers jumped. “Wakanana, Illinois, was where my mother met that greengrocer Ernest! Ma! Ma!” he beseeched the ceiling with hands shaped like claws. “How could you do this to us? Why aren’t you with Pa on the other side?”

  “Son of a gun!” cried Liberty. “Zeke, I don’t think this has anything to do with your mother. Garrett just explained what ‘wakan’ means in the Sioux language. I think—”

  But Zeke was now on his feet, shrieking at the ceiling. “Ma! Pa crossed over to the other side five years ago! Why aren’t you with him? That chiseler Ernest was always trying to swindle us out of our school money, charging five cents for lettuce—how can you say you’re happy with him on the other side?”

  Garrett would have disregarded this as the grief of a misbegotten son—he had heard that Zeke had suffered a brain injury during the recent War—but just then, a shower of rappings engulfed the room. The three remaining séance-goers slowly pulled back from the table, casting glances all about, but it was impossible to tell where one rap sounded before another rap came from the other side of the room. Were they coming from outside the house? Or were tiny little fists knocking the interior walls of the dining room? And what were the rappings telling them?

  “Is it spelling out something?” Liberty wondered.

  Garrett said, “It seems like the more Zeke rants, the more insistent these raps become.”

  Levi suggested, “Let’s just put our fingers back on this thing and ask the next question.”

  So the three of them—Zeke had thrown open a window and was wailing out of it about the greengrocer—put their fingers back on the basket, and this time it was Garrett who asked, “Paddy, where is Shady? Where is the lone pine that sticks out of the rock?”

  Swiftly, as a hail of raps sounded all around them, the planchette spelled out BEWARE.

  “Beware of what?” Garrett asked logically.

  WATCH OUT FOR LIBERTY.

  “Oh, dear God,” murmured Levi. “Paddy! Something is going to happen to Liberty? Tell us what. When?”

  WATCH OUT FOR COLD WATERS.

  “Cold waters?” Levi asked frantically. “Liberty, does this make any sense to you?”

  “None at all. Maybe he’s suggesting I refrain from bathing in the Laramie River?”

  “It’s springtime,” said Garrett. “The water isn’t as cold as it was two, four months ago. Paddy, what do you mean? Why should Liberty watch out for cold water?”

  KEEP HER SAFE, Paddy spelled out before sliding the planchette over to the “Carpe Diem” writing. Then the planchette went silent. Garrett could tell that Paddy had left the room.

  The shower of raps went silent, too, like a clacking telegraph whose line had been suddenly cut.

  Perhaps stunned by the sudden silence, Zeke dragged himself away from the window, his face a mask of anguish. Reeling to the dining table with his mouth hanging in a sob, his sorrow was renewed when he looked at the talking board. He pointed at it with a shaky finger.

  “Carpe diem? That’s where the planchette landed? Why, oh why? That damned greengrocer is taunting me from beyond the grave about those damned rotten fish he sold me and my brother once!”

  Levi exploded like a shot. It was impressive the way he stood with fingertips splayed against the tabletop. He had a commanding, imperious presence that very much impressed Garrett, and he knew Liberty was in safe hands. “Dammit, you jackass! This isn’t all about your mother, may she rest in peace. This is about Shady Barnhart stealing from the Indians and driving them out of their land. While you were blubbering over there, we were getting a message that Liberty is in danger. We need to keep an eye on Liberty and watch out for cold water. Whatever that means.”

  Zeke collapsed in his chair like a properly chastised child. Levi huffed and puffed angrily as he stalked to the sideboard to pour himself some calming drink, and Garrett reached across the talking board to take Liberty’s hands.

  “I hate to say it, Liberty. But I think this fellow”—Garrett nodded his head to indicate the overwrought Zeke—“is your best chance at staying safe, seeing as how he lives in this house alongside you. Zeke!”

  Zeke regarded him with bloodshot, watery eyes. “Yes?”

  “Can you do that, man? Can you keep an eye out for Miss Liberty here? Some danger was prophesized, something to do with cold water.”

  Liberty added, “Maybe that Rusty Pipes is going to throw some cold water on me.”

  Garrett continued trying to get through to Zeke. “Keep an eye on her, Zeke. Don’t let her work at the Cactus Club if you’re not there, can you do that?”

  “What?” said Zeke absently. “Oh, sure, I can do that.”

  But Garrett had a feeling the joker wouldn’t. Garrett shared a meaningful glance with Levi, and he knew both were thinking the same thing.

  They couldn’t leave town to find Shady until the meaning of this cold water prophecy became evident.

  Chapter Nine

  Levi lay on his back in his rickety, uncomfortable bed, listening to Garrett frigging himself.

  True, they were probably both riled up from their encounter the night before with the stunning and brazen Liberty Hudson. Levi had taken a chance when he had invited Garrett to participate in his demonstration of The Pleasure of Woman. He hadn’t known if Liberty would be shocked or even refuse to see either one of them again. It was a risk that had, luckily, worked out.

  He couldn’t have even predicted he was about to take that risk until it suddenly started happening. He was carried away, no doubt, by Liberty’s proximity. He wasn’t expecting to reenact the manuscript from India, but suddenly her violet essence overwhelmed him, and he found his fingertips on the back of her neck. When he’d kissed her, in just the way the manuscript recommended—profusely, without letting her touch him—it had just seemed natural to allow Garrett to reenact the next step of the instructions. In the short span of time he’d known Garrett, the army cook had already become the most trusted partner he’d ever had.

  Garrett was standing right there, obviously aroused by the manuscript, and perhaps by Liberty’s presence as well. What healthy man wouldn’t be? Levi had seen the connection between those two, had sensed that she might be open-minded to Garrett’s touch, and—Hell, could Garrett possibly frig himself just a bit louder? His damned blanket was jerking away like a bucking bronco. Levi’s own cock was a
s stiff as a dinner plate. Of course, if he was hung like a bull like Garrett, he’d be stroking himself every minute of the day. Garrett was so well-hung that a few times he’d turned around he’d nearly brained Levi with his cock.

  Levi’s hand lightly meandered over his erection, recalling Garrett’s part of the instructions. He’d been aware that Garrett was cheating—was hulking that massive erection into the cleft of Liberty’s ass, when that wasn’t even part of the Indian sex guide. And he’d said nothing when Garrett’s fingers had strayed beyond the required armpit and up the tender slope of Liberty’s buoyant breast, where Levi hadn’t even dared touch yet.

  That was all right. He and Garrett were partners, and Liberty certainly wasn’t protesting. In fact, Levi was convinced that being crushed between two male bodies had heightened Liberty’s arousal. When he had started rubbing against her lap like a stag in heat, he was convinced she was about to climax. And she claimed women couldn’t climax from merely being kissed and toyed with! Levi, as her new bodyguard, vowed to redouble his efforts to prove to her that was a fallacy. He could tell by the moist, heated sheen to her eyes, the way her head lolled bonelessly on her neck, that she was about to reach crisis. It was just too bad he hadn’t been able to borrow any more of that manuscript before leaving Vancouver House.

  “Ah!” Garrett cried out, and the blanket stopped jerking. Thank God. Maybe now Levi could get some sleep.

  But he couldn’t.

  Not twenty seconds after Garrett’s pine bedstead stopped its annoying creaking, Levi tossed off his blanket and stumbled into the other room, his erection bobbing in midair. He supposed this room was the kitchen, parlor, and dining room all combined into one. Not much better than his rooms at the fort but with much less belching, cussing, and brawling going on.

  No, Garrett was a quiet, well-mannered, clean fellow. Levi couldn’t very well ask him to stop wandering around in the buff when he was only doing it to bathe. Levi reflected that he was often forced to watch Garrett’s massively strapping shoulders when he bent over the washtub and poured a dipper of water over his head to squeak it clean like a seal’s. Sure, it was annoying to watch the play of pectoral muscles wetly flexing as Garrett paraded about looking for his towel. Garrett might have even been doing it on purpose, to display to Levi his superior animal agility like some kind of hulking Ethiopian god.

  But what could Levi say? “Please get that long, brawny, plump cock out of my face before you give me a brain injury with it”? They were partners in all things, and it was ridiculous to get huffy over something so ridiculous.

  “Ow.” In the dark, Levi banged his shin against the table they had designated as a kitchen counter. He was just looking for his damned whiskey bottle, hoping it would help him sleep. He’d best light the lamp.

  “Ooph.” Levi ran right up against what normally he’d think was a wall. But it was Garrett—he knew from the heated creaminess of his chest against Levi’s and the plump brawn of his monstrous erection slapping Levi’s thigh. Apparently Garrett had not just ejaculated.

  “I was just—” Levi started to say.

  “—some water—”

  They clutched each other’s biceps as they did a little dance that only served to smack their cocks against each other even harder, the loud slaps resounding in the almost silent room.

  And before Levi knew it, he’d shoved Garrett up against the wooden counter, one of his knees between Garrett’s thighs to spread them, and Garrett’s monstrous donkey’s cock was in his fist.

  It was a sudden, sensual attack that had no forethought. Instantly Garrett spread his thighs, gripping the counter’s edge to give Levi a better angle on his cock. There were no protestations of inappropriateness, no proclamations of indignity. No shoving or yelling. It was just one sudden fluid animal movement that had Garrett practically climbing up the counter, Levi’s thighs pinioned under his, lifting him. And the giant appendage of a dusky cock was in Levi’s fist.

  His eyes were now becoming accustomed to the dark. In the light from the waning moon coming through the window, Garrett was even more statuesque and marvelous than his everyday self. Fully naked, he sprawled before Levi, wide open to whatever evil plan Levi had in store for him.

  The strange thing was, Levi had no plan. He had grabbed Garrett’s stupendous prick without even thinking, as though it was something his subconscious mind—there had been a lot of talk about that lately—had done without his approval. Now Levi’s fist pumped the cock, velvety, long, and hot in his grip, and he heard himself saying, “This is what you get, you goddamned impudent buck, for taunting me for days.”

  Garrett’s lanky frame shuddered as he perched on the edge of the counter. Levi saw him gulp air, his throat muscles powerful and gleaming. “I’ve been thinking about Liberty,” he gasped hoarsely.

  Gripping the big cock at the base, Levi slapped it. The meaty sound of flesh on flesh aroused him even more. “You have the impudence to talk about Liberty,” he said, although he knew his tone would encourage Garrett to talk about her even more. “You were thinking about her beautiful tits. The ones you almost touched.”

  “Yes,” gasped Garrett. He looked completely helpless, his giant prick in his partner’s hand, his nostrils flaring almost in fear. Yet he freely admitted, “She’s a beautiful woman, Levi. And we’re both hot for her. What will we do?”

  Levi brought a fondling palm to the balls he’d been yearning to feel since being forced to watch Garrett sling them about so casually. It had been maddening watching Garrett stroll about, the beautiful globes of his ass swaying tantalizingly. That Levi had come in his own pants while humping the glorious Miss Hudson hadn’t satisfied his carnal appetite. Apparently, it had only increased it.

  Levi had never dreamed he’d be stroking another man’s enormous donkey’s prick, much less enjoying it. It just suddenly felt right. It may have had something to do with what Zeke claimed was the sudden surge in “psychic vibrations” around town, but suddenly Levi discovered himself frantically pumping his partner’s colossal meat. He pumped it so eagerly the only sound in the room was the dry friction of the cock pistoning in his palm, and he slapped the swinging, full balls just to get satisfaction from the naughty sound.

  “We’ll share,” he grunted. “It’s really up to her, isn’t it? She liked the instruction manual you found.”

  “But you love her,” Garrett managed to gasp, his face contorted with what looked like pain. But Levi knew it was intense pleasure.

  “Yes, I love her.” Levi paused for a split second to rotate his thumb about the bulbous cockhead, to smear about the glob of semen that had burst there. “But you love her, too.” He just assumed that, to see how Garrett would respond.

  “Of course,” Garrett gasped. “Good god, you’re a fucking dog. Frig my cock, you bastard.” Garrett slapped a palm onto Levi’s bare shoulder to urge him on. His distended nipples were taut, and Levi bent at the knees to slurp a delicious, dark kernel into his mouth.

  Dear God, Levi felt nasty, sucking on another man’s nipple while pumping away at his shining, straining cock. But then, sex must be different between two men. Dirtier, nastier. Men could say dirty things to one another, could demand satisfaction, could drain each other’s pricks with no more ceremony than eating and bathing. Between men—Levi was finding out—there was no need or even the desire for pomp and niceties.

  And hell, he wanted satisfaction, even if it was his partner’s. He’d been so inflamed ever since bumping into Liberty Hudson on the train. Yes, the psychic vibrations must be to blame. Garrett was the channel for the psychic vibrations, and by pumping this glorious horse’s cock he would drain the milky life from him.

  Levi nibbled at the nubbin, just squeezing it gently between his teeth. Semen splashed Levi’s chest as he choked the pulsating member, joggling the cockhead with his thumb because he knew it would make Garrett twitch and jerk.

  Levi liked this about men, he had just discovered. After years of exploring his own body, he a
lready knew how to pleasure Garrett. Women were often frustrating, capricious creatures. Maybe Liberty was right. Maybe women couldn’t climax simply by kissing and toying.

  Levi stood tall, still massaging the spurting cock as the semen dribbled over his wrist. He looked into Garrett’s beautifully outlined eyes as his partner’s chest heaved raggedly with the relief of orgasm. Levi felt no shame. He had just brought his friend off. Between men, there was no big deal.

  “You think Liberty will want to share?” Garrett asked. His expressive, stirring eyes melted with emotion.

  So Levi slapped the sensitive cock once more, to make his friend gasp and jump. Garrett shoved him away, and Levi chuckled. He knew that would be the response. “Sure,” he said, wandering off in the general direction of the table where the lamp was. “She seemed open to it when you started reading those instructions.”

  “If not, let her choose. Right?” Confidence was seeping back into Garrett’s voice now that he’d climaxed.

  Again, Levi knew that was the way of men. They were so much simpler and easier to read than women! “Right,” he said cheerfully. The growing lamplight illuminated his erection, casting an eerie yet humorous shadow against the wall, like a giant baby’s fist holding an apple. Levi grinned at the shadow and looked to Garrett, but his partner held up his hands in protest.

  “I’m going back to sleep, after I drink some water.”

  “You do that,” Levi agreed, uncorking his whiskey bottle. “But don’t you think it’d be advisable to get in touch with Paddy first? We need to find out what he meant about the cold water harming Liberty. We can’t go search for Shady until we know she’s safe.”

  Garrett gulped his water and exhaled mightily. “Yes. And I doubt that fool Zeke will be of much help. But you know what? I think old Paddy can get ahold of me in other ways.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Already in the bedroom doorway, Garrett lifted a hand. “Good night.”

  Levi shrugged. “Good night.”

  * * * *