“I am the great and magnificent knife thrower Castillo! Why would I want to kill a woman when I command such respect with my knives? I can pin down a human form by the sheerest, tiniest thread of fabric when they are standing over ten yards away. I don’t need to steal a woman from Montreal Jed’s act. It would be trivial of me to hate him and try to make him look bad.”
“Which is what you did,” Rudy mentioned. “And now you’re making me look bad by sticking Kittie in my spirit cabinet—”
“And killing her!” Alameda added.
Castillo blathered on. “The great and magnificent Castillo doesn’t need to kill anyone! Why would I harm a defenseless woman, a woman with cunning little feet, little pinkie toes just dying to be—”
No one ever found out what Castillo liked about women’s feet, because just then Caleb stood and gave a little woof. He must have startled the fallible and mediocre Castillo, for the cutlass strayed just far enough on its next overhead arc to sever a flimsy string. An enormous jade Buddha hung by the string, and it now clobbered Castillo directly on the skull. The Spanish knife thrower’s eyes crossed, and he slammed facedown into a lit incense burner on a small inlaid table. Inch-long rounds of glowing orange charcoal scattered everywhere as Castillo lay to rest with several live coals embedded in his face. The bowie knife that had been in the air came down point first into Castillo’s ass.
Chang was the first to laugh. He was still brushing beetles from his collarless jacket. “The Buddha intervened. He says, ‘Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else. You are the one who gets burned.’ Now you can arrest him.” No one pulled the bowie knife from Castillo’s ass—Chang only moved to scoop up the precious Buddha.
“Not really,” said Alameda, looking cautiously at the unconscious circus performer. “We only have our suspicions. We have no proof that Castillo stuck Kittie in that cabinet. Not that we need much proof here in the Far West. I’ve seen men at the hands of a lynch mob based on nothing more than hearsay.”
“Yes,” said Derrick. “And we’re the ones about to have a necktie party if we can’t prove this jackass is responsible. You especially, though, Rudy. You can’t show your face at the Oddfellows Hall—or anywhere in the streets, really—until we can lock this guy up.”
“When is your brother-in-law coming back?” Rudy asked Alameda. “When the snow melts, obviously.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But we can get an urgent message through to him in the meantime.”
Caleb woofed his agreement and trotted to Chang’s front door. This time only Alameda and Derrick followed the wolf back to the Oddfellows Hall, to examine Kittie’s body for clues and talk to Temperance some more or whoever may have seen Castillo stuff Kittie into the cabinet. Rudy snuck back to the circus to root around in Castillo’s tent, as he was the last person who would be welcomed back at the Oddfellows Hall.
Chapter Fourteen
“The three of you have become very close,” said Ivy Hudson before taking a bite of her minced veal and macaroni. Alameda had borrowed Josefina, the cook at Vancouver House, to come to Albuquerque House and make them a proper meal. So far, it was a very lovely, quiet candlelight dinner, and Rudy still hadn’t returned from his espionage in the circus tents. Alameda had gone upstairs with a bowl of macaroni for Montreal Jed, but he was still very weak.
Snow had melted all day, and if it continued to be sunny tomorrow, perhaps Neil could get through on the road to Laramie City. Ivy added, “You seem to make a good team.”
“Yes,” Alameda agreed lightly. She liked to josh her sister. “It’s too bad a girl can’t marry two men. Right, Derrick? That way we could keep Rudy around and don’t have to let him go.”
“Yes! I’m quite fond of Rudy,” Derrick agreed brightly. He held the stem of his wineglass in the proper manner, and Alameda was thinking that truly, honestly, he would make the most excellent husband. Not only was he out-and-out dashing, as Temperance had observed, he was eminently presentable, good in society, and gave Alameda a very protected feeling. If only she weren’t so afraid of men after that shocking ordeal with Ralph Ellis. “Do you have any good doctors in town? Rudy knows quite a bit about doctoring, and he’s tiring of the performing life. Your asthma hasn’t acted up since he performed his animal magnetism on you, has it?”
“Not one shred,” said Alameda.
Ivy said, “There is a Dr. Wallis here, but he’s most likely to prescribe laudanum for every single ailment, from a broken leg to an infected wound. I don’t see how laudanum could possibly help such a wide array of ailments. We could certainly use another medical man versed in prescribing things. Anyway.” She set her fork down and pushed her plate away. Josefina, waiting for her cue, whisked it away and replaced it with a baked apple dumpling. “I can tell you from my personal experience. It makes things much easier to have more than one man around the house.” Her look became sly. “I mean, I am legally married to Marshal Neil Tempest. But Captain Harland Park might as well be my other husband.”
All the cutlery at the table stilled. Alameda shared a quizzical glance with Derrick. Finally Alameda had the grit to ask, “And do you share…everything? Of course it’s helpful to have another man to help with chores, and you’ve got an enormous cattle ranch. But do you share everything?”
Ivy lowered her eyes modestly to her apple dumpling. “Everything,” she admitted.
Alameda had suspected that. Of course she had been up to Serendipity Ranch on several occasions. While Captain Park had his own bedroom, Alameda had seen him a few times emerging from the bedroom Ivy shared with Neil and clad in not much other than drawers. Once she had even been stimulated to note his giant cock at half-mast cradled between his thighs. She had only witnessed Captain Park make small affectionate gestures toward Ivy, such as placing his hand on the small of her back, while of course Neil freely kissed her, but it had occurred to Alameda that the trio were closer than most.
Her mind was flooded with questions, but it was the bold Derrick who was first to say, “I think that would be a very practical arrangement out here in the Far West, with so few women around. Sort of like the Mormons, but in reverse.”
“Yes,” said Ivy. “I haven’t heard a single resident scoffing or belittling us for such an arrangement. Only”—she frowned at the wall thoughtfully—“there was that one fellow—Rusty Pipes from the Cactus Club, you know him, Allie—who thought it meant that I was a public ledger, open to all parties. Harley had to punch him to put him in his place.”
“Oh, yes,” Alameda agreed. “Rusty is a very lowdown cad. His mind tends to linger in the sewer. Speaking of, what does Father think?”
Ivy giggled. “You know him. He’s very open-minded with his Spiritualist background and never seems to place judgment on anyone. I guess his theory is that what he can’t see won’t hurt him.”
“Well, anyway,” said Alameda, attacking her apple dumpling with gusto, “I don’t want to marry anyone. Not after that Ralph Ellis fiasco.”
Derrick sat up erect, ignoring his dumpling. “Ralph Ellis? Who’s that?” He addressed Ivy, perhaps slyly thinking he would get a more direct response from her.
Ivy made a face. “Oh, this horrible, horrible little man poor Alameda was betrothed to. Right, Allie? What a ghastly beast! But it’s up to you to tell Derrick the story, if you wish.” She shuddered visibly. “When Father’s only criterion for choosing a fiancé is how much money they have, he certainly gets steered down the wrong path.”
Derrick turned to Alameda. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
But Alameda was so eager she spoke with her mouth full. “A beast, like Ivy said! I had no idea when I agreed to marry him that it would involve him poking every woman under the sun. About a hundred, by the time I finally found out about it.”
Alameda was glad Ivy had brought up this subject, for she was eager to see Derrick’s reaction. He regarded her with raised eyebrows. “Well. I don’t blame you
for throwing him over. That’s not right. If a man wants to dally around with the entire town, he shouldn’t bother even becoming betrothed.”
“Yes!” cried Alameda. “My thoughts exactly.”
“But, Derrick,” said Ivy, pointing at him with her fork. “What if a man wanted to dally with, say, only three women in the town? Should he still be betrothed then?”
“Of course not. That’s one of the rules for wedded bliss. No dallying.” Derrick shrugged. “I was married once before for four happy years. It never once occurred to me to dally. Some men just aren’t cut out for marriage and shouldn’t even bother. Stay a bachelor if you wish to dally, that’s what I say.”
Alameda nodded curtly. “Bully for you, Derrick. You will make a fine politician because people can trust you.” With that, she took her plate to the kitchen to search for another dumpling. All the activity of today had her famished and exhausted. She hadn’t even taken the time to change out of her Fairy Queen costume and had just thrown her rust-red walking suit on over it.
Finding the dumpling that Josefina had probably set aside for Montreal Jed, Alameda tucked right into it at the counter. More than a warm physical feeling she felt when near Derrick, the mere lusty desire she had felt for him since the first minute she’d seen him, she now glowed with hope for a future with him. He had said he would not dally with other women, and she believed him. It was time for her to start forgetting the debacle of Mr. Ellis and trust in another man again, but she still wondered, “What about Rudy?”
Derrick had entered the kitchen behind her and instantly moved to lay a kiss on the back of her neck. He lifted the heavy mound of her bun and bit her lightly, then stopped at her question. “What about Rudy, my duck?” he whispered.
She didn’t turn around. It always made her feel feminine and prickly with gooseflesh to have his powerful torso pressed against her back. And this dumpling was exquisite. She swallowed the last bite and licked her fingers. “If we dally with him, like we seem to enjoy doing, doesn’t that count as, well, another person?”
She could feel Derrick thinking. He laid his chin on her shoulder. “But Rudy’s not another woman. If anything, I should take offense that you wish to toy with him.”
Her jaw slung low in pretend shock, Alameda wormed around to face him. “But Rudy’s a ganymede! He likes—he enjoys—he only wants to fondle and canoodle with you!”
“I’m not so sure about that. He seemed to take great pleasure in frigging your beautiful clit to orgasm, didn’t he? Gave me a bit of a jealous fit, to be truthful. Besides, your own sister engages with two men at the same time. I say if we’re all in agreement and all are happy, what’s wrong with it?”
Alameda smiled at the distant wall. “Yes. I have seen her Captain Park walking about the upstairs hallway of their ranch house with a half-erect cock and a great smile on his face. And my sister Liberty, whose husband Levi Colter owns this house, seems to have another similar arrangement with Levi’s mining partner. It’s Garrett’s room that you sleep in upstairs.”
Derrick smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes. Garrett’s room where I found a bawdy Oriental sex manual. See? It’s all perfectly harmless.”
Alameda had seen that love manual and had smiled at its implications. “But”—Alameda pouted—“you do like to fondle Rudy as well. Right?”
It was Derrick’s turn to look thoughtfully out the darkened window over her shoulder. “Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “It’s not something I had ever thought about much one way or the other. All the poofs I’d met seemed too effeminate, too weak. Rudy is hardly those things, with his bareback riding and his apple-shooting. Suddenly it seemed different, acceptable. I don’t think he’s one of those poofy fellows who set out to only diddle men. He had a bad experience when the woman he loved died, that’s why he’s squeamish of women. I like fondling Rudy, as you put it. I like it because I like him. But I told him we wouldn’t do it unless you were present.”
This filled Alameda with warmth, that Derrick would make a sacrifice for her. It was obviously fun of a different nature for two men to pet and stroke each other, and to restrict themselves to only fondling each other for her viewing enjoyment was a gift that pleased Alameda.
And she did like witnessing it. Watching Derrick frig Rudy to completion in the spirit cabinet had made her so wet and randy she had flung herself into the Fairy Queen role with abandon, simply in order to work off some of her frustration. She was very fired up to watch the men go at it again.
“I like watching you doing it just as much as I like to participate,” she purred against Derrick’s mouth.
When he kissed her then, she felt a devilment in him. He licked her lips as he gently nudged her lap with his bulging prick. It was heavenly just kissing this man, all sheer virility and powerful beauty. I am his. I am the first woman he’s wanted since his poor wife left this world. His orange scent bathed her face, and she itched to get her overskirt off. Her fingers began unbuttoning it before she remembered.
“What about Ivy?”
“She went up to bed,” Derrick murmured against her mouth.
So Alameda allowed him to continue unbuttoning the skirt of her walking suit. Soon her jacket had joined it on the floor and she was standing in Stalacta’s sheer, snug costume. The diaphanous stocking—she had left the grass skirt, wand, and other accoutrements back at the Oddfellows Hall—were decorated strategically only with embroidered leaves and vines about the breasts and crotch. Derrick’s hands freely roamed over her figure, greedily collecting her breasts in his palms. Alameda had never felt so feminine as when this delicious, dark man was handling her with such skill. When his thumbs skidded over her stiff nipples, a surge of lusty blood filled her pelvis. When she lifted a toe to wedge it in the top of his boot, her mons veneris rubbed deliciously against his stiff cock.
“I was so jealous, Alameda.” He smoothed his wet lips over her neck and down her breastbone, and she shivered with delight. “I let Rudy frig you till you came when I really wanted to do it myself.”
“Do it now,” she begged, gripping his shoulders in her claws.
She felt the smile on his lips as he buried his face between her breasts. “I’ll do him one better.”
He dropped so suddenly to his knees Alameda was taken by surprise and had to steady herself against his powerful shoulders. Derrick nuzzled his handsome, stubbled face between her thighs, sending shivers up her spine, and she lunged her pussy toward his mouth.
The one beau she had had—to Mr. Ellis’s one hundred—had done this to her. He had performed “mouth congress” on her twice before Ralph had discovered what was going on and pitched a righteous fit, sending her fleeing to Laramie City. Hands down, it was the most delicious act Alameda had ever experienced, and to think it was about to be performed by the man she loved most in the world stimulated her so, she thought she might go out of her mind.
He breathed heatedly against her inner thighs and with the tip of his tongue found the slit in her stocking. His fingers pulled the edges of the slit apart, and he dove right in, applying tiny little licks to just the tip of her clitoris. One of her legs, with a mind of its own, instantly wrapped around his stalwart neck, and she cried, “Damn it all to hell, Derrick! Please! This is not the time to toy around!”
She felt him groan with pleasure against her labia and apply more enthusiastic lapping to her clitoris. She imagined she could feel it lengthen as it filled with blood, and she made tiny little humping motions against his face. By now her fingernails were probably digging trenches into his poor shoulders, and she leaned back against the kitchen counter as leverage for her hip thrusts. Just the thought that his sculpted, handsome face was between her thighs drove her to unimaginable heights, and her panting was making her lightheaded.
On the fringes of her awareness, a swath of lamplight bathed the kitchen floor as the door to the dining room opened. The silhouette of someone wearing a long, straight robe entered. At the moment, Alameda didn’t care mu
ch whether or not Ivy decided to join in the fun. She wanted her orgasm, and she wanted it now! Ivy could damned well get her tea and leave—or leave without her tea!
The figure kneeled on the floor behind Derrick and uttered a satisfied, masculine groan. Just as Alameda’s climax was building to a crescendo, the figure began humping Derrick’s luscious, rounded ass, distracting him from his task at hand.
* * * *
Derrick could tell by the woodsy scent of cedar it was Rudy who had kneeled behind him. Rudy who massaged his stiff prick against Derrick’s tailbone.
Derrick detected from the copious flow of sweet pussy juice that Alameda was on the verge of another of her by-now-famous monumental orgasms. He eagerly awaited feeling what it was like to have this sultry minx explode all over his face. Already her sweet nectar dripped from his chin, the bulging clitoris quivering against his tongue. So he backed off, risking her ire, to see what Rudy planned to do. Rudy was not taking this prize away from him, by God. Alameda’s orgasm would be his triumph.
But he was also becoming increasingly aroused by the plump, juicy prick wedged in the crack of his ass. He had frigged that tasty cock till Rudy had squirted him with jism—had even licked it from his fingers, surprised to find the milky gobs tasted saltier than his own—and now his curiosity was fired up. What did Rudy have in mind?
He slowed his licking as Rudy unbuttoned his pants. He allowed Rudy to yank them down, even squiggling his hips to assist. Derrick’s cock sprang free, eager for release. Above him, Alameda whimpered and squeaked like a small rodent, begging for discharge, but now Derrick enjoyed tormenting her with little catlike laps.
Rudy gave a few twisting jerks to Derrick’s cock, but then he was gone. Derrick groaned in desperation, but Rudy was back in a flash kneeling behind him. Rudy pressed some rounded, cold, and hard object to his anus. It wasn’t Rudy’s cock, but he had greased the object up, and it slid easily up his rectum.
Cold Steel and Hot Lead [How the West Was Done 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12