Slocum #422 (18 page)

Offering a split with him wouldn't work. Finding the gold was an opportunity of a lifetime. Getting half of it would fail to feed the greed driving him.

“Lure him out on the platform between cars. I can take care of him from there.”

“Where will you be?”

Slocum considered the matter and realized this wasn't a decent plan. He had nowhere to hide. Then it came to him.

“On the roof of the car. You get him out of the passenger car, and I'll get the drop on him.” Slocum knew that wasn't the way it had to be. The instant Sarah Jane charmed him out, he was a dead man. Risking the woman's life was out of the question.

“Give me a couple minutes, then ask him to join you on the platform,” Slocum said. As he started for the door, Marlene called out to him.

“John, wait. What are you going to do?”

“Be quiet,” snapped Sarah Jane. “This won't take a moment. You tend to your sewing.”

Slocum hesitated at the door and looked from the seductress in the red satin dress to the blond girl looking more frightened by the instant.

“She's right, Miss Burlison. We'll be right back. Both of us.”

He shot Sarah Jane a hard look, then slipped out the door, found the ladder to the roof, and climbed. The Yuma Bullet rocked from side to side as it took a curve in the tracks, forcing him to drop away from the car. He grabbed frantically as he began to lose traction. The train hit another curve, and he lost his balance entirely. Flat on his belly, sliding toward the edge of the car, he grabbed for anything he could hang on to. A piece of flashing saved him, but he cut his hand. The blood turned his grip slippery.

Flailing about, he finally found purchase on the side of the car, scrambled to the roof, and pushed himself flat there. Hanging on for a moment, he settled down, then slid toward the edge of the roof to look down.

“Damn,” he grated out. Sarah Jane already had the prospector out on the platform.

And she had his pants down while she knelt in front of him. The man reached out and put his hands on her head for ­balance—­and this did him in when she lowered her head and threw her shoulder forward into his groin. He yelped, tried to take a step, and got tangled up in his dropped drawers.

He waved his arms around like a windmill and then he fell off the train. The thud as he hit the ground sounded above the clanking wheels. And then the Yuma Bullet highballed on so fast that his moans fell far behind the train.

Sarah Jane stayed on her knees, turned, and looked up over her shoulder. She had a ­come-­hither look on her face and motioned for Slocum to come down and join her.

He wondered if he shouldn't simply let the rocking motion of the train throw him off after the prospector.

Slocum gripped the edge of the roof, used the motion of the train, and flipped over to land heavily on the Pullman's platform. Sarah Jane remained on her knees, looking up at him.

“You owe me,” she said.

“I would have taken care of him. There was no call for you to push him off the train.”

“I rather enjoyed it. He was so easy to get out here, so eager. He must have thought the S&P offered certain services to its passengers.” She lifted her hand, fingers wiggling in invitation to Slocum.

“Dressed the way you are, I understand why he believed that.”

He reached over, took her hand, and heaved her up. She gave him a sour look as she got her feet under her. She had expected more gallantry on his part. Slocum wondered at how easily she had seduced the prospector and how quick she had been to shove him off the train. For him, getting rid of pursuit was a matter of survival. For her, it was sport, a game, something to amuse her.

“You still owe me,” she said, making her way from the passenger car platform to the Pullman's.

She came into his arms and used her lush body to press him against the car wall. His cock responded at once, though whether it was reacting to the movement of the train as it swayed to and fro or the way she rubbed against him like a cat stropping up against a chair leg hardly mattered. Her hand went to his crotch and found what stirred there.

“This is what you owe me, and I want to collect right now.”

“Offering him a blow job got you hot?” Slocum didn't try to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“Yes,” she said, hissing like a snake.

Her hand worked down the front of his jeans and began popping open the fly buttons.

“Out here? Like this?”

“No, you're right, John.” She gripped hard on his crotch and the bulge there, opened the door, and called out, “Go to the mail car. Give us a half hour.” She turned her bright eyes up at Slocum, then corrected, “Make that an hour.”

Slocum wasn't too surprised when Marlene obeyed without question. She pointedly looked away as she passed them, pretending not to see how Slocum was corralled. Barely had she left than Sarah Jane kicked shut the door and swarmed all over Slocum, stripping off his coat and dropping his gun belt to the floor.

“Such terrible clothing. I should have bought you something more suitable in Deming.”

Slocum watched passively as she pulled back his work shirt and cast it aside, then attacked his jeans with a passion, working them down to expose his groin and the erection growing there. She didn't let him stay out in the air very long. She dived down, her lips circling the tip. She cast a quick look up to see his reaction.

He gasped as she began to apply suction to the very tip of his manhood. His response spurred her on. She took more of him into her mouth, moving down his length inch by inch until he vanished entirely. The rubbery tip bounced off the roof of her mouth and went deeper until she gagged. She backed off and turned her head slightly so the most sensitive parts of his anatomy rubbed against her soft inner cheek. Not content with this, she used her tongue to stroke back and forth on the underside until Slocum felt as if he had turned into a steel bar, unable to get any harder.

“That's about right,” she said as she let him pop from her mouth. “Now it's your turn.”

He tried to grab behind her head and get her back to keep giving him the intense arousal with her mouth. She twisted to the side and avoided him, rocking back on her heels. Looking down at her, he saw the swell of her breasts billowing up from the plunging neckline. The deep canyon between caught the light and enticed him to reach down and stroke over the bare flesh. Her hands clamped on top of his to keep them pressed hard into her chest. Her breathing turned to deep gasps.

Through the satiny bodice he felt her nipples hardening. He hadn't thought it was possible, but this aroused him even more until his shaft ached with need. Every time his heart beat, his cock jumped. She saw this and moved with a liquid grace, standing. The whole time she rose, she made sure his hands never left her breasts.

“Take me, John. I don't have anything on underneath. Just for you.”

She slid her hands down his arms, across his bare flanks, and cupped his buttocks for a moment before lifting her skirts and hooking her bare leg around his. She pulled closer and rubbed herself against him. Wetness boiled from her heated interior and tickled against his manhood.

Slocum reached down and pushed the skirts even higher before running his fingers along the pink canyon between her legs. He got the response he wanted. She moaned and arched her back to shove herself harder into his probing fingers. One slid into her and wiggled about. This produced a cry of pure carnal delight from her.

“I want more, John. That's exciting, but this excites me more!” She gripped his fleshy shaft and tugged it toward where his finger slid in and out.

He withdrew his finger, ran his fingernails down her inner thighs, and opened her even more. Then he spun her about. She let out a cry and threw out her arms to catch herself on the back of a plush sofa. With one knee on the cushions, her hindquarters thrust back into the curve of his groin.

Slocum reached around, caught her waist, and drew her back slowly. He sank into her from behind, gradually, thrillingly. She tossed her head like a frisky colt when he finally penetrated her fully.

“Oh, John, you're huge. You fill me up!”

He remained motionless inside her, reveling in the heat and tightness and how the train's motion caused them to rock about without expending any effort. The vibration coming up through the Pullman from the wheels gave an added sensation lacking before. He almost lost control when she reached back between her legs and caught at his hairy sac to give it a squeeze.

He got the idea. Pulling away until only the ­plum-­colored tip of his manhood remained within her, he let the train ­taking a gradual curve sway his body. He sank back into her, the motion matching that of the train.

She put her head down on the back of the sofa and opened even wider for him. Slocum reached up her body and caught a dangling tit, squeezing down on it. He groaned at the reaction. Her female sheath tightened all around his buried rod. Rather than tense up, Slocum abandoned himself to the train's rolling movement to enter and leave. Vibration and the motion, her tight wetness, the moans of joy from her ­bow-­shaped lips, it all worked on him.

He hung suspended for what seemed only an instant before feeling the ­white-­hot tide rising within him. His balls tightened even more as she stroked over them. He tried to let the train set the pace, but his own desires pushed past any chance for control. He began moving with long, hard thrusts that drove the woman insane with lust. She thrashed about. He held her around the waist, keeping her pulled in deep to the curve of his loins.

Then all chance for rhythm disappeared. He began thrusting with powerful strokes that created friction along his length, and all that mattered was ever deeper penetration. He exploded and spilled his seed and still he kept ramming furiously until he began to melt within her. Finally stepping back when his organ turned limp, he looked at the woman, who remained with her ass up in the air, legs spread, and inviting even more, to no avail. Slocum was completely spent.

She realized no more was forthcoming, dropped her skirts, and turned about to sit on the sofa. Her face was flushed. The blush extended down to the tops of her breasts, which rose and fell heavily.

“That settle accounts?” Slocum asked.

“That makes me want more,” she said. “I've never been ­so—” She abruptly cut off what she meant to say. “You owe me a rematch. When you get in shape again.”

Slocum laughed. He had seldom experienced such release. Sleeping for a week to regain his strength was in order.

“I have a fine bed,” she said seductively. “It's in that partitioned section behind you.”

“It'll take more than ­that—­or anything you can do right now.”

“Spoilsport. But later?” The tip of her tongue slipped out and made a slow circuit in wanton invitation.

She pushed down her skirts, stood, and strutted to the back door.

“I'll let you get dressed.” She blew him a kiss. With that she disappeared, leaving Slocum standing naked and alone in the car.

He pulled up his pants and retrieved his shirt from where she had tossed it. He picked up his gun belt as the rear door opened and Marlene rushed in, flustered.

“John, you've got ­to—­oh!” She put her hand over her mouth but kept her gaze fixed on his groin. He still hung out, not having buttoned up again. “I remember that,” she said. A small smile flickered, then she sobered quickly. “You and her, you just ­did—”

“What's wrong?” He settled the ­cross-­draw holster and only then did he tuck himself in and button his fly.

“The mail clerk. The one we picked up in Deming. He's the one ­who—­oh, this is so difficult. He and she were lovers in San Diego ­and—”

“And Morgan Burlison is sending her to San Antonio to get his daughter away from him.”

“That ­and—” She stared at him. Her hand went to her mouth again as she shook her head. “You know?”

“I figured it out. I was kinda slow but too many things never quite made sense. The two of you switching places would have gone to hell a long time back if I'd listened harder to the way Mad Tom and Jefferson talked around you and Marlene.”

The blonde sank to a chair and stared at him. Tears welled in her eyes.

“I didn't want to lie to you, but Marlene thought it would be great fun. She read about it in that book.”

“The Mark Twain book?”

She nodded.

“When I got you out of the wrecked car after the bridge collapse, I should have known then. She wanted only to get on to Yuma. Your first thought was of her. She's lucky to have a companion as dedicated.” Then Slocum laughed.

“What's so funny?”

“The first time I saw you, I wondered why a lady let her maid spy on anyone screwing in the next room. She wanted to go there. You didn't have any choice but to accompany her.”

“She made me spy, for a little while.” Sarah Jane blushed. When she looked up, her expression was bold and challenging. “And I enjoyed it. I wanted to see more, but she insisted on looking instead.”

“You wanted to be in there taking part,” Slocum said. She blushed again. “What about this mail clerk?”

“I wandered about while you and Marlene were, well, when you were occupied with each other. I saw him in the mail car and could hardly believe my eyes.”

“So her pa wants them kept apart.”

“Randolph is a bad influence, a very ­low-­life man. But Mr. Burlison is worried about his business rivals kidnapping Marlene to force him to sell the S&P to a new consortium for pennies on the dollar and not go through with a merger he has fashioned with another railroad. That's why he went to San Francisco, to fight off a proxy vote. It's all very complicated, but he doesn't want Marlene used as a threat against him. He certainly doesn't want her around Randolph either.”

“Do you think Randolph will harm her?”

“Oh, no, I don't think so,” Sarah Jane said, choosing her words carefully. “But he is a wild soul. There's no telling what he might convince her to do.”

“She's got an iron will. She won't do anything she doesn't want to,” Slocum said.

Then he reconsidered. He had seen women fall in love with outlaws because of the supposed romance. If Morgan Burlison tried too hard to keep his daughter away from someone he considered a bad influence, Marlene would have to show her pa who was ­right—­who was in charge.

“It can be like that,” Sarah Jane said, as if reading his mind. “She has an uncontrollable streak that takes a real man to tame.”

“Do you know anything about Randolph?”

“I don't like him. I think Mr. Burlison is right and that he's only after Marlene for the family money.”

“There's not much they can do aboard the train,” Slocum said. “Unless you have other advice, I say let 'em be.”

Sarah Jane looked at him. Her eyebrows arched. She started to speak, closed her mouth, and thought for a moment more before saying, “You're asking
me
for advice?”

“You know ­her—­and ­him—­better than I do. I trust your instincts.”

Her green eyes fixed on him, as if seeing him in a new light. Slocum got a little uncomfortable until she looked away.

“We'll be stopping at Eagle Pass to take on coal and water,” she said. “That's where I'd worry most about her.”

“That's a ways down the line,” Slocum said. “You have any ideas about how to spend the time it'll take getting there?”

“There's always a card game going in a passenger car. Gin rummy at a penny a point, most likely, though sometimes I see poker games.”

“I'm not interested in cards,” he said.

She locked eyes with him again.

“I have several of Marlene's books. We can take our pick of titles. She bought several new ones in Deming.”

“You want to read to me?”

This caused a tiny smile to dance on the woman's lips.

“You can read, Mr. Slocum. I know it.”

“I can read you like an open book.” He stepped closer.

She moved until their bodies almost touched.

“I can see we're on the same page.”

Slocum was never sure if he kissed Sarah Jane or if she kissed him. It didn't matter since they had found a way to occupy their time all the way to Eagle Pass.