Longarm and the Deadwood Shoot-out (9781101619209) Read Free Page A

card games with Liberty.
    Supper was light but the service was formal. Afterward Longarm retired upstairs where a room had been prepared for him. There had been no invitation for him to join Carmichael in the study for brandy and cigars. It was a lack Longarm could live with. His only purpose for staying was to please Liberty. The child was such a joy that he almost wished for a daughter of his own.
    But then, he realized with a chuckle, it was more convenient to borrow one.
    Before she was up to bed Liberty went onto her tiptoes and gave Longarm a good-night kiss.
    The child just plain melted his heart; that was the truth of the matter.
    Upstairs, tucked away at the back of the third floor, the family being somewhere below, he sat in the bedroom rocking chair long enough for a smoke and a nip of rye from the bottle he carried in his carpetbag, then he stripped, blew out the lamp, and crawled between the fresh, sunlight-scented sheets.
    He was asleep almost immediately.
    He came awake again to a light knocking on his door. In this genteel upper-class house there was no need for him to reach for the .45 he had placed on the bedside table. He sat up and reached for it anyway and had the revolver in hand when he stood and padded to the doorway.
    Lamplight shone beneath the door.
    “Who is it?” he asked, standing to the side of the door.
    “Cornelia,” the answer came back.
    Longarm’s eyebrows went up. “Yes, I, uh, just a moment.” He hurriedly put the revolver back into its leather, then returned to the door and pulled it open.
    Cornelia Blaise, sometimes known as Gramma, stood there holding a hurricane lamp. She was wearing a sleeping gown of pale silk with pearls and fancywork sewn on. The gown came to her throat and had long sleeves, but the way the silk clung to her curves—and Cornelia Blaise had what Custis Long considered to be quite splendid curves—it managed to be sexy as hell.
    “May I come in?”
    Longarm stepped back and the lady swept into his bedroom.
    She very carefully set the lamp onto the bedside table,quite matter-of-factly shifting his Colt to one side when she did so.
    When she turned to him the lamplight was behind her. He could see the outline of her figure through the backlighted silk. Her legs were long and slim. Her breasts small and shapely, riding high on her chest despite her years.
    Her hair was down, flowing loose and long. It caught the gleam of the lamplight and seemed almost to shimmer.
    Longarm’s cock had no notion of a houseguest’s polite behavior. It immediately jumped to attention.
    Cornelia looked down and saw the sudden bulge in his balbriggans.
    The grand lady smiled and said, “Good. Would you like to fuck?”

Chapter 6
    Longarm was too surprised to speak, but his pecker, lightly throbbing behind the thin cloth of his balbriggans, spoke for him.
    Cornelia stepped forward. One arm crept around Longarm’s neck. Her other hand very matter-of-factly gripped his cock. She lifted her face to his and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth when she did so.
    “Beautiful,” she whispered.
    Longarm lifted an eyebrow and the grand lady smiled and said, “Not you, dear. This is what I was thinking of.” She squeezed his prick and laughed.
    “Beautiful? Why, you ain’t even seen it yet,” Longarm said.
    “We can correct that, can’t we?” she asked.
    “Uh-huh. Reckon we can at that.”
    Without waiting for more of an invitation, Cornelia unfastened the buttons at the neck of the balbriggans and slipped the undergarment off his shoulders. She pushed them down past his hips and let them drop to the floor around his ankles.
    “Lovely,” she said, looking down at the powerful erection that was standing tall down there. “See? I was right all along.” She took hold of him and squeezed again.
    “Careful what you’re doin’ there or you’ll get a fistful of jism,” he warned.
    “I can think of better places for it,” Cornelia said.
    He reached up to the neck