She backpedaled her way to the bedroom, keeping their lips locked, pulling him with her. She vaguely heard the door close behind them before hands started disrobing her.
She broke the kiss, coming up for air, and saw Garrett’s hands removing her clothes. He leaned forward and feasted on her neck as Cassidy took over delighting her skin from the front, a duel of twin pleasure.
Cassidy’s hands landed on her hips, forcing her back, and she fell upon the bed with a gentle thump. Garrett was beside her, kissing her and tugging the sleeve of her dress off her shoulders, exposing her skin inch by inch. Cassidy stood watching them, his body hard, his face stiff with lust.
“Cassidy,” she said softly, holding out a hand.
He shook his head. “Fuck her, Garrett.”
Scharlie
stiffened. Feeling her withdrawal, Garrett halted his ministrations. They both glanced at Cassidy.
“Why won’t you join us?” she asked.
“Seeing you both turns me on,” he replied, avoiding the question.
But
Scharlie
had had enough. “So you can sneak off and finish by yourself? What’s so wrong about loving me together with Garrett?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he said with a shake of his head.
She held out a hand. “Then join us.”
Cassidy’s chest rose and fell sharply with his breathing. His eyes went back and forth between them.
Scharlie
rose to her knees. Her dress fell away, revealing her chemise, which was unbuttoned to her navel, and her soft breasts and puckered nipples to his gaze. She saw him swallow thickly.
“You’ve always been in charge, haven’t you, Cassidy? Always the leader, always giving orders.” She ran her hands over up her abdomen, pushing her chemise to the side as she cupped her breasts and teased her own nipples. “But now I’m giving the orders. Do you understand? You will obey what I say, and I want you to strip off your clothing and join me and Garrett in this bed.”
Cassidy’s gaze narrowed as he studied her.
Scharlie
continued with her ministrations, teasing herself by pinching her nipples. Garrett helped her remove all her clothing and tossed the dress and undergarments onto the floor.
She now waited, completely naked, her hands running up and down her body. Fragments from her lost book returned to her, guiding her ministrations. One finger traveled between her legs, and she opened her thighs more to tease her swollen clit. The sensations caused her to shiver.
Scharlie
moaned and glanced at Cassidy through hooded eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to replace my finger with yours? Wouldn’t you like to suck my clit until I drip with need? Do as I say, Cassidy. Join us.”
The darkness she saw in his eyes shadowed a war he fought within himself. But as she dipped her fingers inside again, he suddenly snapped. The defiance melted away, and with a groan of surrender, he started to strip.
A moment later, he eased onto the bed, trapping her between himself and Garrett. Garrett started kissing her neck again, licking his way up and taking little love nips. His hands came around to cup her breasts, taking over teasing her nipples. He pressed his naked body into her backside, and
Scharlie
felt his hard cock weeping at the tip.
Cassidy’s hand on her knees forced her to lean back into Garrett’s arms as he replaced her fingers with his, exploring her.
Scharlie
reached for his cock. It was big and hard, throbbing with its own heat. She used the pre-cum to lube the bulbous head before using her fingers as a hole to pump it up and down.
Time dissolved.
Scharlie
floated on a sea of bliss as need rose steadily. She licked her lips, wanting to taste Cassidy, so she pushed him down onto his back and leaned forward.
Her mouth slipped over the head as she began sucking him, her head bobbing up and down as her tongue traced the shape and width of him. Cassidy let out a long moan, his hips moving in time to her ministrations.
“Christ,” he gasped. “Take it deep,
Scharlie
!”
She reached with her hands to encircle the base of him, holding him gently as she tried to stuff more of him into her mouth. When the large head hit the back of her throat, it caused a momentary gagging reflex, until she learned to control it by breathing through her nose. And then she started to bob up and down again, bringing him deeper and deeper into her throat. As she did this,
Scharlie
felt Garrett’s hands on her ass, spreading her thighs apart, rubbing her cheeks, and brushing featherlike touches across her clit. Her stomach clenched each time, wanting more. Garrett’s finger ran up and down, slipping inside each time to tease, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Tingles rose up, causing her to suck a little more frantically on Cassidy’s cock, harder and deeper.
And then, suddenly, Garrett’s fingers were gone, but before she could bemoan that fact, she felt his shaft push into her, stretching her wide. She heard Garrett groan as he impaled her over and over, pushing her more into Cassidy’s cock. It was heaven. It was amazing.
It was more than any of them could take.
Cassidy came first, grabbing her head and holding his cock deep in her mouth as he came. At first,
Scharlie
thought she would choke, but she managed to swallow the salty essence as it flooded her mouth. He collapsed back down, spent, watching Garrett through half-open eyes.
“Oh!” she gasped as Garrett grabbed her hips. Her pussy contracted around him, convulsing as orgasm swept over her. “Yes! More, Garrett!”
He obliged, pushing deeper and deeper. And just as her orgasm started to fade, another one swept over her, this time in tune with Garrett’s, who let out a moan as his crest broke over him. His hips gave another pump before he collapsed over her back.
Scharlie
fell forward, lying over Cassidy’s hips as Garrett draped over her back.
As replete as she felt, there was a slight bitterness at the thought that Cassidy hadn’t done exactly as she wanted. He may have fucked her mouth, but he still hadn’t filled her as she longed to be filled, sandwiched between him and Garrett.
With that thought going around in her head, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
She was unsure what caused her to wake, but when
Scharlie
opened her eyes, she was cocooned between Cassidy and Garrett and moonlight was streaming through the window.
Unease slithered its way over her skin. She rose and gently detangled herself from the lightly snoring men. She grabbed her dress and hastily put it on, hearing the crinkle of paper as she brought it over her hips. Curiously, she reached into the pocket and brought out the letter she had gotten weeks ago, when she had first picked up the books for her
schoolkids
.
Scharlie
quietly left the bedroom and went into the living room, closing the door behind her. She lit a lamp, sat at the table, and opened the letter. Two things fell out. One was a photograph. The other was a note in
Harlow
’s handwriting.
She shook slightly as she read the short message from
Harlow
, a lump rising in her throat.
Dearest Sister,
I have a feeling this is the last time I will be writing to you. But I want to explain my life, and why I could never be forthcoming until now. When I left all those years ago, I drifted and ended up working for a man named Allen Pinkerton. Through the years I worked my way up within the Agency until my conscience forced me to disclose that I had killed a man. But let me tell you this, Sheriff Tanner never posted a warrant for my arrest. It was as if my one indiscretion had never happened.
And so I devoted my life to atonement, catching bad men,
Scharlie
, and putting them in prison. Men like Breaux Cox. Enclosed is the evidence I’ve been working hard to find but cannot find a way to get it where it needs to go. It’s too important to trust to just anyone. Do this for me,
Scharlie
. Remember I love you.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she picked up the picture. The photo was of Breaux Cox, younger than when she had met him. The harsh lines around his mouth had not yet formed. He posed in a chair with money bags around him, all stamped with various names of banks. She saw one that said
Union Bank of St. Louis
and another that read
Citizens Bank of Jefferson City
.
Obviously, Cox had been eager to immortalize his daring bank robbery escapades. And this was the real reason why he had killed
Harlow
.
Harlow
must have searched his personal belongings, finding this photograph, and then run to try to get it to the authorities. Why he didn’t hand it over to Cassidy and Garrett was a mystery one would never solve. Maybe he wanted to protect his partners. Maybe he didn’t have enough time. It broke her heart thinking that
Harlow
knew Cox would be gunning for him, that time was running out. So he sent her the evidence that Cassidy and Garrett were so desperately searching for, knowing they would come to her and tell her of his death.
A noise outside caused her to jump to her feet. She extinguished the lamp. She clutched the photograph between her fingers, realizing that whoever was out there, and she strongly suspected it was Cox, the picture must remain safe.
She ran over to the books she still had for the children, the ones she had ordered a long time ago, and placed the picture inside the third one. Even if something were to happen to her, the books would be found by someone.
She went to the bedroom and eased open the door, seeing Cassidy and Garrett still sleeping. She eased open a dresser drawer and dug under the clothes until she felt her gun and then, giving the sleeping men one last loving look, closed the door. She took a kitchen chair and shoved it under the doorknob, trying to protect them and keep them safe. Maybe it was stupid of her, but now she knew why Cox wanted her, and if she could convince him she had already given the photograph over to authorities, maybe he would leave as suddenly as he had appeared.
Scharlie
checked that her gun was loaded before unbolting the front door and stepping out into the night.
The air was cool, causing a little shiver to course over her skin. The moon provided enough light to see across the land. It was beautiful and would have been considered peaceful if the underlying feeling of menace didn’t stalk her. She knew Cox was out here, could feel his eyes on her. She walked off the porch, toward the tree line, her eyes darting toward every shadow.
“I know you’re out here,” she called. “And I know you won’t kill me until you know what I did with the photograph.”
Cox stepped out from behind a tree, out into the moonlight, and even though his face was mostly obscured by his hat, the new wound running down his left cheek stood out prominently. “So
Harlow
did send it to you,” he replied.
“Yes. But I turned it over to the authorities.”
He gave a nasty little laugh. “I don’t think you did. Otherwise those two men sleeping in your bed would have been recalled to
Illinois
.”
“They’re not asleep, so if I don’t show up, they’ll come out here,” she bluffed, improvising. “Why don’t you just give up now?”
She brought the gun up, but he was quicker. His two Colts were already cocked and staring her in the face before she had even finished raising hers.
The night around her fell deathly silent, or else it was the blood draining from her head, making her feel dizzy. Whichever the case,
Scharlie
suddenly became very scared. She would never see Cassidy or Garrett again, never feel them around her.
“Have I thanked you yet for this lovely decoration on my face?” he sneered.
“I liked mine so much I thought you should have one,” she said in a quiet tone. She tried to bring some sass to the words, but she couldn’t manage it.
Cox laughed, a harsh, grating sound of amusement. “Clever,” he replied. “We could have been so good together,
Scharlie
Thorn. Now, where is the photograph?”
She didn’t answer. But her gun started to waver. The fear was starting to consume her.
Cox cocked both guns. “Last chance,
Scharlie
, before I hurt you. Tell me where it—”
“Cox!” shouted Cassidy from behind her.
Scharlie
almost went weak with relief. Cox kept one gun on her and turned the other onto Cassidy, locking them in a crazy triangle of sorts.
“Where’s the other one?” Cox asked. “Come out, Webb! Or I shoot the pretty girl right now!”
“You do, you’re dead,” Cassidy promised.
Cox gave him a bitter smile. “Well then, I’d die knowing I destroyed your life.”
Seconds ticked by.
Scharlie
felt sweat trickle down the sides of her face despite the cool night air blowing around them.
And then she saw a big shadow cozy up to Cox as Garrett brought the rifle barrel flush against his temple.
“Drop the guns,” Garrett ordered, his voice cold. “Nice and slowly.”
The smile vanished from Cox’s face. “Goddamn Pinkerton agents! You think I couldn’t smell your fucking badges from the start? I’d sooner go to hell than have you take me to federal prison.”