Seeking Justice (4 page)

This was the perfect setting, as far as she was concerned. It was early enough in the year that there wasn't the fear of bugs. She relaxed as she waited for Zander. He didn't take long.

Despite the darkness, she could see the hairbrush in his hand. He set it and a condom package on the wheel well before he lay down beside her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips claiming hers, making her feel as if she might melt.

"You're so beautiful," he said after the kiss broke. He ran his index finger down the side of her face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a discussion about why she avoided marriage. His next words told her it wasn't.

"Since you were smart enough to find your way out of the locked cab, I'm going to give you something you really love."

Zander started to nuzzle her neck, and Justice relaxed, savoring the feel of his hard body against hers.

"Tell me," she said.

"How about I show you." He moved to the side of her. He trailed his fingers down her stomach, ignoring her breasts, which surprised her. Zander playing with her breasts was usually a big part of their foreplay.

"Spread your legs," he whispered.

Sexy, incredible chills spread up her spin as she did as he asked, and he cupped her pussy. Justice lifted her hips, hoping his fingers would find their way into her wetness. Instead, he lifted his hand, and then let it fall in a gentle slap.

"Does someone need her pussy spanked?"

"Oh Zander," her hips seemed to move of their own free will. "Yes, do it, please."

"Sit up," he ordered.

His commands always sent her spiraling into need, and this time was no different. She did as he asked, and when Zander slipped behind her, his legs spread wide, she settled into him without being told.

His hard cock pressed against her backside, and Justice moaned her approval. It felt so good to feel him against her.

"Spread your legs," he whispered into her ear. Once again, Justice followed his order. She hooked her legs over his, the position pushing her even harder into his muscular body.

"I've missed seeing you lately, Justice," he said. "I've wanted to do this for a while now."

He flashed the brush in front of her face and she saw that it wasn't like the one he'd given her. This one was large. Justice studied it in the growing darkness as Zander twirled the brush.

"Oh my," she said as she realized the object he was about to slap against her pussy was made of plastic, with steel bristles. He'd never spanked her with anything like this before.

"Where did you get that?"

"I bought it at the store, thinking it would be perfect to use…" he raked the bristles over her swollen pussy, "right here."

"Oh Zander," she moaned. "Don't tease me."

"I don't plan to." He moved the brush back and forth.

Justice's need spiraled out of control. "Zander, please," she pushed herself into the brush.

"Tell me," he commanded. "You know how I love to hear you say it."

"Spank me," she answered. "Spank me hard."

"Where do you want me to spank you?" His breath caressed her neck.

"My pussy. Please, Zander, please." Her hips still moved, and Zander still brushed her bare pussy lips with the brush. "I'm begging you."

"That's what I wanted to hear."

Justice hissed long and loud when Zander turned the brush and rubbed the cold plastic against her hot skin. He moved it faster, the heat building higher until finally he lifted it up and slapped it against her.

"Yes, more!" she yelled.

Zander did as she asked, landing one more hard slap against her pussy. Her clit twitched under the pain. Before she could ask for another, Zander gave it to her.

"Yes," she screamed again. "More."

After the third strike, there was no need to ask him to continue. Zander set up a steady, hard rhythm, slapping the brush against her pussy while Justice wiggled in sheer ecstasy. The force of the strikes spread her labia, and from time to time, the brush touched the soft folds inside her. When it did, Justice thought she would explode.

She had no idea how long it lasted. All she knew was she never wanted it to end. Zander's strokes were perfect. He'd wrapped his free arm around her middle, right under her breasts, to keep her in place.

Justice was flying, soaring into the ozone when she felt Zander's fingers slip into her pussy and find her clit. All it took was one hard stroke. She came so hard she felt as if she might explode into a million pieces.

"That's my Justice," he whispered into her ear. "Take a deep
breath and relax, and we'll go for round two."

"Mm, yeah," she murmured as she settled into his chest. His fingers were still stroking her wet folds. Justice looked up into the sky, and wondered why in heaven's name she'd ever stayed in Dallas, when she had times like this waiting for her in Bluefield.

Soon, Zander was buried deep inside her, his hand slapping her ass between the thrusts of his cock. Justice's body quaked as he claimed her, doing so in a way that she knew no other man would be able to do.

"Zander… love… you," she managed to squeak out, her voice quivering.

"I love you, too, my Justice," he said. He stopped thrusting and, with the brush, gave her ten hard swats to her left cheek. As she groaned and begged for more, he did the same with her right side.

Her ass ached the same way her pussy did, in a delicious manner that would leave her satisfied… until the next time he spanked her.

Zander thrust a few more times, each one harder than the last. "Finger your clit," he said as grasped her hips. Justice knew that meant he was close. He'd told her once that his greatest pleasure was feeling her squeeze his dick while he was coming, and when she came, her already tight pussy became even tighter, as if someone were putting his cock in a vise, one that brought about the most incredible sensations.

Justice fingered herself as he thrust. When he screamed out, "Fuck yeah, my baby, Justice, there it is," she came, too. He screamed again, his words unintelligible.

He collapsed on top of her, their sweaty bodies mixing together in the cool night air.

"Oh darlin', I've missed you," he said. "We need to…"

He stopped talking, and Justice knew why. He'd brought up the subject of marriage before right after they'd had incredible sex, like they'd just experienced, and it hadn't ended well. Justice would always get a little mad, feeling as if he were pushing the issue.

"It's okay," she whispered. "We need to be right here, right now, with you still buried deep inside me."

Zander moved just a little, and his cock pulsed.

"Feels so good," she said.

"Yes, it does." He kissed her shoulder as one of his hands cupped her breast. "I hope you're going to be up for round three soon."

"Definitely," she said. He slipped out of her at that point, and she turned her head to look up at him. His expression was soft, and he leaned over and kissed her tenderly.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll get rid of the condom and get us some water out of the truck. I think the stuff in the cooler will still be cold."

"Okay." He jumped from the truck, as agile as an athlete, and Justice turned so that her head was at the cab end of the truck bed. The mattress had a pillow, and she laid down to look at the stars. She could hear Zander moving around. She squinted against the light that came from the cab window when he opened the back door of the truck.

"By the way, how did you keep the door locked?"

He laughed. "I kept my hand on the button," he said. Soon he was back, though, with a semi-chilled bottle of water from the cooler that he kept in the back of his truck.

He cracked the seal and offered it to her first. She took a long drink, and he did the same. Then he settled in next to her, holding her in his arms.

"I love snuggling with you after you've been inside me," she said.

"We could snuggle all the time, if you lived closer," he said.

Justice's heart rate picked up. Although she thought about being with him all the time when they were having sex earlier, the reality of it set in as he stroked her arm. It was such a wonderful fantasy, but as her mother had taught her, fantasies never came true. If you tried to live out a dream, it would come crashing around your ankles.

In an effort to change the topic, she kissed his chest and said, "I don't really remember much about the story behind Bandit Days. Tell me it again, and let's see if we can figure out where to start on Miss Agatha's request."

Zander stiffened, and she knew he was on to her real reason for asking the question. She was afraid he was going to push the issue, but instead he took a deep breath, and then laughed softly.

"You've heard this story many times while you were growing up with your grandparents."

Justice stared up at the stars. "I did, but I never really let it set in. Tell me again, as if you were telling me a bedtime story. Here, I'll start… once upon a time…."

Zander stroked his finger over Justice's shoulder. Her effort to keep him from bringing up marriage was so transparent and he thought about calling her on it. But it had been a perfect evening so far, and doing so would not be good. It would ruin the mood, and could cause a rift between them that, he knew from experience, could last for months. One day he would get her to see things his way, he was sure of it, but today wasn't the day to start on that journey.

Today was the day they needed to do something for his grandmother. He'd never seen the woman look so frail. It worried him that she might die soon. Death was a natural occurrence, but it wasn't something he liked to think about where his grandmother was concerned. In his mind, she would be around forever.

Next to him, Justice stirred and he looked down at her. The expectant expression on her face made him smile. "Very well," he said. "Once upon a time, right after Texas became a part of the United States, there was a group of outlaws roaming this part of the country, robbing banks, stores, and people in their houses. They were so original, they called themselves The Bandits, and, according to the tale, they lived right here in Bluefield."

"Do you know their names?"

He leaned over and tweaked her nose. "I'm telling this story my way… be patient."

"Yes, sir," she said in mock sincerity.

It made him want to spank her again, but that might lead to sex, and it was too soon for that. They both needed to rest first. "Anyway, the legend goes that there were two main bandits and three, shall we call them underlings. The big bosses, so to speak, would make the plans, set things up, and dole out the cash and other stolen goods after a job. The other three were good little boys and followed along, until the gang had been in operation for almost two years. That's when the trouble began."

"No honor amongst thieves," Justice said.

"Exactly." Zander pulled her in closer. "The employees, so to speak, soon thought they were not getting enough of the loot. It led to fights, and after one bank job, the men got into a gun battle. Two of the underlings, Jeb Barton and Mac Thompson, were shot to death. The other one, thinking he would be next, turned tail and ran to the law. His name was Steve Smith. He turned his friends in, and told the law they were riding for the Mexican border with hoards of cash they'd just stolen from a bank in San Antonio."

He paused, and as he knew would happen, Justice prodded him to continue. He smiled. "The law went after the other two, Frank Miter and Peter Ward, but when they caught up with them, just a few miles from Bluefield, they had no money on them from the robbery. A search of their house didn't turn up any stolen items, or cash. So it was their word against the word of Steve Smith."

Zander paused again.

This time she tweaked his nipple and said, "Go on."

"Well, since Mr. Smith had admitted to robbing the bank, he was put in jail. But there was no evidence that Miter or Ward took part in anything, so they had to leave them free. The rumors built over the years that the two of them had buried their loot near Bluefield when they heard the law was coming for them."

"I suppose that would have been a smart thing to do," Justice said. "After all, if the law had found the stuff, they would have been put in jail along with Smith."

"Yup," he agreed. She wiggled again and Zander's cock started to stir. "So there are two stories that circulated. Smith insisted the other two men had been killed, but the newspaper accounts from the day say that no bodies were ever found. It was speculation that Smith, along with Barton and Thompson, were the actual robbers and they had a thieves falling out, and the other two left for Mexico with all the money, leaving Smith high and dry."

"Could have been," she said.

"Yes, Bandit Days started in the late nineteen twenties, when everyone was so broke. The townspeople came to believe Smith's version of events, and thought Miter and Ward buried their loot, and never dug it up."

Zander had heard this story so much as a child that it was almost like a fairy tale to him. There was part of him that didn't believe a word of it, and another part that wanted to believe the whole thing as told by Smith.