Longarm #396 : Longarm and the Castle of the Damned (9781101545249) (2 page)

He glanced across the room and noticed that the lady with the light brown hair already disappeared. He rather hoped she would be back tomorrow, as she was much nicer to look at than the jurors, most of whom appeared to be half-asleep while the lawyers droned on. And on. And on.

Now the jury was being escorted out by the court bailiff, lest they be contaminated by comments from the spectators.

Longarm yawned again and started for the door.

As soon as he stepped through it, he was confronted by the lady in the bottle green dress.

“Excuse me, sir, but you appear to be a gentleman. Would you think me too bold if I asked you to escort me to dinner. I . . . I can pay. For you too, I mean. But I couldn't possibly go alone into a public establishment like that. Is . . . Would that be all right, sir?”

Gentleman? It was not just every day that Custis Long was called that. He gave the lady a half bow and offered his arm.

What else could he possibly do?

“Excuse me, sir. Could I have your attention for a moment, sir?”

The elderly, very wrinkled, and timeworn fellow was holding a broom. Longarm thought he recalled seeing the man around the courthouse a time or two before now. A beggar, Longarm immediately thought. An old man trying to cadge a quarter for a shot and a beer and a bowl of chili.

Normally Longarm would have had a moment to spare as well as a dime or so, but not this evening, not while the pretty young thing was already on his arm.

“Later,” he growled, regretting at once the rough tone. It was not the old boy's fault. Still, words once spoken cannot be recalled. “Sorry,” he amended over his shoulder as he guided the young woman out the front doors of the handsome courthouse. “See me later.”

She looked up at him—lordy, she had the prettiest blue eyes and the longest eyelashes—as if to question him.

“Just a beggar,” Longarm told her. “I'll give him something tomorrow.”

The girl smiled—damn, she did have a nice smile; dimples too—and said, “You are a very nice gentleman, sir.”

Longarm was finding it increasingly difficult to walk beside this girl without the front of his britches preceding him by half a foot or more. The girl just plain had that effect on him.

“I intended to eat at Houlihan's tonight,” he told her. “Would that be acceptable?”

“So long as it is not . . . rough,” she said. “Strangers frighten me.”

“It's a nice place,” he said, “or so I hear tell.”

She gave him that smile again. “In your company, I believe I should feel safe anywhere.”

The evening, he thought, was looking up.

“My name is Lenore Bailey.” Smile. “And of course I know who you are. Practically everyone does.” Smile. “I must admit that I noticed you in the gallery and I . . . Well, the truth is that I inquired about you.” Smile.

Oh, yes, Longarm thought. This evening was most definitely looking up.

They dined sumptuously on green salad—courtesy of the Union Pacific's fast freight from California—lamb chops, and new potatoes. And a bottle and a half of dago red, which the lady seemed not to know enough to tell that it was a raw and inferior wine. For not knowing anything about spirits, though, she drank enough of it. She seemed nervous and more than a little tiddly.

“Marshal Long,” she asked when the meal was concluded and they were about to leave, “would you mind escorting me to my room now? I feel . . . I feel not so very steady on my feet.”

“I would be honored, Miss Bailey.” He offered his arm again.

“It is the Crenley house,” she said. “I know the owner. She happens to be visiting in Denver, but she gave me permission to stay there.”

“I don't know it,” he said.

She smiled. “I shall show you.”

And she did. Not only to the house but inside. There were no furnishings in the parlor, so she said, “Follow me. We can sit back here.”

The girl led the way toward the back of the house, where there was a kitchen and beyond it a small bedroom that held a narrow bed and an upended keg that served as a dressing table.

He thought about mentioning how sparsely furnished her friend's house was, but Lenore sat on the bed and patted a spot immediately beside her. “Please sit down. There is something I want to tell you.” She sounded very serious when she said that, so Longarm dutifully sat.

The next thing he knew, Lenore's arms were around his neck and her tongue was in his mouth.

Oh, yes. This evening was most definitely looking up.

Lenore shed her clothes as slick as skinning a rabbit and just as quickly started in on Longarm's duds. She opened the buttons of his fly while he was still getting his shirt undone, and when she saw what she found there, she moaned with pleasure.

“What a handsome gentleman,” she said, but this time he was pretty sure it was not his face she referred to. His dick, standing tall and as hard as a rock, was throbbing only inches in front of the girl's face, and all of her attention seemed to be on it.

Lenore herself was slim and sleek and pretty. Her tits were soft and sagged more than a little once the foundation garments were removed. But he was able to forgive her for that.

She slipped the pins out of her hair and shook her head, shaking out a cascade of brown that framed her face.

He could feel her breath on the engorged head of his cock. Then she dipped her head forward. Her lips parted and her tongue played with the underside of his glans, while her fingers worked a sort of magic with his balls and the sensitive flat between his balls and his asshole.

“You smell nice,” she muttered. “It's a man smell. I love it.”

What he loved was what Lenore was doing to him.

Her lips parted a little further, and she mouthed the head of his cock, taking it slowly into the heat of her mouth then swishing it back and forth in there while her tongue continued to lave the head and, soon, the length of his shaft, as she took him deeper and deeper into her throat.

Longarm sagged back onto the bed, his eyes nearly closing as powerful sensations of pleasure overtook him.

Lenore cupped his balls in one palm while the fingers of her other hand steadied his cock and held it in place so she could better press herself onto him.

“So big,” she mumbled once when she withdrew enough that his cock was poised at the opening of her lips.

Then she pushed her mouth back onto him, shoving herself forward until his prick filled her mouth and drove on through, past the ring of cartilage at the back of her throat and beyond.

The feelings she gave him were extraordinary.

She stayed with him until the sweet pressure built beyond containing and he exploded into her mouth, his jism squirting in a nearly continuous flow.

Lenore gobbled and gulped and at one point choked . . . but she stayed with him until he was done flowing. She swallowed everything he gave her and acted like she wanted even more.

“Nice” was all she said when she finally withdrew.

She sat up and smiled—ah, those dimples and lovely blue eyes—then quite happily arranged herself on the bed with her legs parted, ready for his entry.

Longarm obliged, first taking her left nipple into his mouth and rolling it with his tongue. Lenore groaned and her hips began to lift and writhe.

He slipped a finger into her pussy and found she was dripping wet and more than ready for him. He moved overtop of her, and Lenore reached between them to grasp his cock and guide it inside her, as Longarm lowered herself onto her. Into her. Deep. Deeper. Filling her body with his cock.

He raised himself enough that he could see the rapt look on her face.

Then he began to pump into her, slowly at first and then quicker and quicker, until he was pounding her belly with his own.

Lenore's moans filled his right ear, and her hips rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, until she cried out, clutching at him with arms and legs alike. And clenching his pecker tight with her spasming pussy.

Longarm felt the rising of his sap, and for the second time in a space of only minutes he came, jets of hot cum squirting deep inside the girl's body.

When both were silent, sated, he looked into her eyes and said, “Remind me t'feed you right regular if that's the reaction it gets outa you.”

Lenore laughed and nibbled on his earlobe.

“Careful, darlin',” he said, “lest you get me started again.”

“In that case,” she told him . . . and again began chewing on the earlobe.

 

Longarm woke slowly and stretched. He had just awakened from a full night's sleep but still felt drained.

He was, he discovered, entwined limb to limb with Lenore Bailey, she being the reason he felt so drained.

It was unusual for him to spend the night with a woman he did not know, but Lenore was an exception. She was . . . well, she was no virgin, that was for damn sure. But there was something about her that seemed almost innocent.

He yawned and looked around. First at the way Lenore's eyelashes looked so sweet and childlike against her cheek, then at the nearly empty room where they'd spent the night. There was daylight showing around the edges of the blind drawn across the window at the back of the room.

He carefully disentangled himself from Lenore's embrace, sat up, and retrieved his vest from the bare floor. He pulled out his watch and key, inserted the key into the Ingersoll and carefully wound it—in the activities of the night he had forgotten to do that—then checked the time. He should have time for a cup of coffee at the café before court resumed for the day. He was fairly sure he would be called to testify today, so he did not want to be late.

“Darling Custis,” Lenore whispered, reaching for him. “Kiss me.”

He did, one hand almost on its own finding her breast and kneading the soft flesh there, the nipple suddenly hard beneath his palm.

“Take me, Custis. Do me.” She found his limp cock and toyed with it, quickly bringing it back to raging readiness. She cupped his balls and gently pulled, urging him onto her. Into her.

Longarm considered the time. And smiled. He did not really have to have that cup of coffee.

He climbed into the saddle yet again, once more amazed that a girl could look so sweet and yet act so bawdy.

He stroked deep into her, deliberately pushing the rhythm so that the sensations quickly built then spilled over into a hard, hammering climax that might well leave the girl black and blue in her more tender parts.

His climax was so hard, so complete that he cried aloud when the fluids gushed out of him and into her slender body. Lenore held him tight, wrapping her legs around him and holding on.

Longarm tried to pull away from her, but Lenore held on all the tighter.

“Now, looka here, darlin', I have to get to court this mornin'. I'm gonna have to testify today. I'm pretty sure about that.”

“No, Custis, don't leave me. Please.” She pulled away but only long enough to slip down onto the floor and put her pretty head in his lap, lifting his cock, still wet and sticky from inside her body, and sucking it into her mouth. She lifted her head long enough to mumble, “Stay with me, Custis. You must. Please.”

“I can't do it, darlin'. Now, leave me be. I got to go.”

He was pretty sure that now there was no time for that coffee. Not that he regretted the distraction. Far from it. Lenore Bailey was one sweet piece of ass. And she gave a mean blow job too.

“Let go, darlin'. I got to get dressed.”

Lenore continued to suck on him. The damn girl was becoming annoying.

“Dammit, Lenore, I got to go now.”

She quit stroking his balls and reached underneath the bed. When her hand appeared again, she was holding a four-shot Sharps derringer.

Lenore raised her head and said, “I can't let you do that, Custis. Don't argue with me now. We'll spend the day in bed, you and me. You won't regret it, I promise. We'll have us a fine old time fucking our brains out.” She gave him a questioning look and said, “Please, Custis? Please?”

Longarm looked into the four barrels of the little Sharps. They were not very big.

But the damn gun was big enough.

“Stay with me, Custis. You have to.”

She surely did seem to mean that too. As in
You have to or I'll put a bullet in your brisket.

“Shit,” he murmured. “You don't give a boy much of a choice, do you?”

Lenore smiled. “Thank you, Custis. You won't regret this. I promise.” She reached for his cock again.

Fuck her? Longarm coldcocked her, his right fist slamming against the shelf of her jaw while his left brushed the little Sharps aside.

Lenore reflexively jerked the trigger and the derringer spat smoke, flame, and a tiny bit of lead, but the bullet came nowhere near Longarm, winding up instead in one of the bedroom walls.

He plucked the Sharps from her fingers while Lenore was trying to recover her wits, and dropped the pistol into the pocket of his coat, which was lying nearby on the floor.

“Now, what the hell was that all about?” he demanded.

Lenore shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that muddied her thoughts. After a moment she spoke. “I like you, Custis. Please stay here today. Please. I . . . I need for you to.”

“Why, dammit?”

“I am not the girl you thought I was. My name is not Lenore and I don't come from around here. Never mind who I am or where I'm from. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you can't testify at that trial, Custis. Please. Promise me that. Don't go to court today.”