“Uh-huh,” he lied. It was still a helluva long way from tight. But it was damn sure better.
“Oh. Honey. I’m coming.”
Shit, he hadn’t hardly moved again. But it was enough for Janie. She bellowed and gave him a bear hug and like to shook herself to pieces with the power of this latest in her long line of climaxes.
“Honey, you’re so good I can’t hardly stand it.” Which he assumed was not a complaint. “Harder, honey, harder. Yes, yes, I’m coming, oh jeez I’m coming again.”
And damned if she didn’t.
It occurred to him that generally speaking when a woman has more than one orgasm it makes a fellow feel kind of pleased with himself. In this particular case, though, Longarm didn’t feel entitled to much in the way of credit. With ol’ Janie he figured it likely that a decent-looking feather duster would be enough to get her off. Still and all …
“Harder, honey, faster, yes, yes, yes …”
Janie was humping and bucking, and now there was a mite of feeling to go with all the sweat and strain and pretty soon he could feel the sweet, fine gathering of pressure deep inside his cods. He held back, increasing the sensation, and in another moment or two it was too much to keep back and the flood commenced to flow.
He clenched his teeth and arched his back and hung in the saddle like a bronc buster getting his teeth loosened after a hard day’s night. Janie screamed and he would have to admit that maybe he grunted and groaned some his own self. All in all it proved not half so bad an ordeal as he’d feared, by damn.
Afterward, when he reached onto the night stand for a smoke, Janie poked him in the ribs—hard—and said, “Light me one of those things too, cowboy. Then we’ll talk while you rest that thing ready for the next tussle.” Longarm was fairly sure he knew just what “thing” it was Janie meant when she said that.
Chapter 15
Janie reached over, he thought in search of a caress. Instead she plucked the freshly lighted cheroot out of his hand and put it between her own somewhat bruised and swollen lips (and how nice it had been getting them that way). He waited a few moments, but she seemed disinclined to relinquish the slim cigar and so he lighted a second one for himself.
She was every bit as sweaty as he was but did not seem to mind in the least. Well, Longarm didn’t either now that all the thrashing and banging was ended. In the long run it had all proved pretty much worthwhile, and once he’d solved that initial problem of a nastily slack fit the experience had been a cut or two above the average. Now he was tired. And Janie damn sure had to be. He’d long since lost track of how many times she’d shrieked and gotten her jollies, and likely she hadn’t counted either. Both of them, in any event, were entitled to some rest and relaxation at this point.
Janie found the remains of an ancient sardine can that served guests as an ashtray. She set it on the flat of her chest, squarely between her sagging jugs, and invited Longarm to use it.
“Just one thing, honey. If you burn me with that cigar tip, sweetie, I’ll think you’re starting a whole new sort of playfulness, and you’ll have to finish what you start.” She winked and added, “There are times, honey, when pain is pleasure too. You hear?”
He could almost believe she meant it. And had no intention of finding out. Better, he thought, to be plenty careful of what happened with the hot ashes off his smoke.
“Do you want to talk now, cowboy?” she offered.
“Hell, woman, I’m not sure I got energy left t’ do any talking.” He grinned and patted her hip. “But I reckon I can listen if you wanta do the talking.”
Janie smiled, obviously feeling that she’d received a compliment, which of course she had, and said, “It’s about that ass Norm Colton.”
“Yes?”
“It’s him you’re here to see about, right? I mean, my husband having been a judge I know a little something about jurisdiction. And Norm, he was a federal appointee. Miserable little piece of shit, but federal nonetheless. Which if I remember correctly makes him your responsibility.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, honey, I can tell you right now who killed Norm. For that matter he’s the same one who killed Wil Meyers. And while I was downstairs waiting for you, cowboy, I thought I heard someone say somebody else has been killed too. I don’t know which of them it was this time. But I know the list his name will be on.”
“List?” Longarm asked.
“List,” Jane Sproul told him. “There are at least twenty names on the list. And I bet tonight every one of the survivors is hiding under his damned bed, wondering if he will be the next one of those Shivarees to die.”
Longarm had no idea what the hell she was talking about. But he was willing to listen to whatever it was she wanted to tell him about it.
Chapter 16
“God, I was young then. Pretty too, if I do say so. You aren’t following me, are you?”
Longarm shook his head. “I’m talking about my first wedding, honey.” “First?”
“There’ve been two actually.”
“Not to the judge, you mean now.”
“No, this was to a boy … isn’t that awful, that I think of him as a boy? But then he was, you see. He really was. No, this was just after the war ended.”
“Uh huh.”
