Meeting her challenge, he opened her robe and stroked her pussy. “Three guesses,” he said while he tugged at his jeans and slid them down his muscled thighs, his cock finally loose and ready. “Remember that you asked for it,” he whispered as he laid down on an upholstered sofa that was nothing more than a reclining deckchair, but the rich called it a chaise longue. The long couch had a silk fabric, and seemed to be crying out for someone to use it to make love. It resembled those in the paintings—covered with silk, ménage couples lying all over them, bringing each other to a high-spirited scream that seemed to radiate through the wines and golds of the pictures. As he pulled her down over him she lazily circled his neck with her arms while her legs opened wantonly, anticipating a hard invasion. Instead, he teased her cunt, rubbing it and sweetly tormenting it with a sensuous rhythm that made her moan.
As the sound of ecstasy slipped through her lips, she lifted herself up on her knees and came down on his hard cock. She gasped as she pushed it deeper and deeper, until she was compelled to move her hips in a dancing fashion.
Feeling her cunt close around him, her hot juices began to bathe him, causing a moan to slide sensuously from his mouth. While his mouth suckled on her nipples, she began the dance again, this time moving her hips to a carnal tune that lived in the dark recesses of her desire. He pushed in and out of her over and over again, causing her to arch her back and push her breasts into his face. His full, searching lips found her nipples and tugged on them with a hot, sensual hunger.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, feeling a flash of heat shooting from her breasts down to her cunt. The feeling brought out her wanton side, and her sex dance became more inflamed. He plunged in and out over and over again with a rhythmic force. They clung together, fucking, moaning, and sweating until Jesse finally spewed his hot seed into her.
When Beau walked out onto the veranda, Jesse called out to him. “If you want some of this she’s ready to give you the ride of your life, but it’ll take a lot to satisfy her.”
When Beau took over, his invading cock plunged hard and fast as she widened her thighs. She clung to him as he nibbled at her neck and breasts, both of them moving frantically against each other. The feeling that Jesse started, Beau finished.
“Oh, God, Beau, give me more!” she shouted as Beau buried his cock all the way to her soul. She reached up, her legs almost to his shoulders, inviting him to ride her relentlessly. And then all at once she stiffened when a blast of her juices ushered her into complete satisfaction.
“Ohh, Beau.” She sighed as she wilted in his arms.
Beau didn’t stop. He took his stiff cock and buried it inside her again as far as it would go, riding her up and down until he brought her to life again. His moist breath burned her neck, his tongue darting in and out of her ear. Ecstasy speared through her once more, making her jerk and moan. Her body burned, causing her to reach out and cling to him, her teeth nipping at his nipples, her tongue playing a carnal game along his rippling muscles until the feeling they were waiting for grabbed them both. Their juices met in a final surge of completion.
Camille couldn’t move, the ceiling of the veranda whirling above her. And then it dawned on her that the three of them had made love outdoors. She decided in that moment that she didn’t care, and a warm feeling of euphoria filled her being. She turned to Beau who lay beside her, and looked again at his full, lush lips, remembering their kisses and their smiles. She’d never been so completely loved as she’d been with these two brothers. When thoughts of leaving the riverboat flitted through her mind, she felt almost sorry she’d never see them again.
Chapter 7
NOW, as she walked quietly between these two brothers, her nerves were staging a riot inside her skin. For the first time in her thieving career, she’d been caught in the act. She’d learned one thing about these two cowboys. They weren’t what they seemed. Because they were dressed in all the grandeur of a guest aboard this riverboat, she’d underestimated them. They appeared as nothing more than empty-headed pretty boys, but she’d learned they were rough, tough, hard-talking, hard-riding Wild West cowboys who wore the badge of a bounty hunter.
She thought about the wanted poster they mentioned. She hadn’t seen it and wondered if it actually existed, or was this just another one of their tricks. How could there possibly have been an etching drawn of her?
Oh, no! she thought. If there were etchings out there that she didn’t know about, could there be tintypes as well?
As they neared the casino, she heard the raucous laughter drifting on the warm air, the tinkling of glasses, the occasional shout of a winner, and a burst of applause. Now, climbing the short length of stairs, they came out on deck, and then pushed through the swinging doors of the casino. The moment she stepped inside, she felt embarrassed, as if everyone there knew she was a prisoner of the Bannock brothers. She had to remind herself that no one but these two knew who she was, but somehow she still felt exposed.
They stopped at several gaming tables as they walked through, but never stayed very long at each one since they were on their way to the curtained area. Just then, they walked up to the craps pit, and the brothers began playing. Their luck wasn’t too good until Beau held the dice up to her mouth and asked her to blow. Resisting an urge to spit on them instead, she pursed her lips and blew while looking into his steel-blue eyes. She could feel the same fire she felt every time their eyes met and knew he felt it, too. While continuing to hold her gaze captive, he gave a swift swing of his wrist, and the dice went flying across the table.
“We have a winner!” the dealer shouted while they continued to stare into each other’s eyes. The guests around them roared out their congratulations and then gave him a round of applause, but his eyes never left hers. It made her wonder if he might let her go because of the way he felt about her.
The thought stayed with her, and with her hot breath blowing on his dice, he won every game. He finally reached the house limit and had to quit the table and go cash in his chips.
She stood at the cashier, looking around for Jesse, when she felt Beau punch a thousand dollar bill down in her cleavage, and say, “That’s for the hot breath of Lady Luck.”
“You don’t really think my breath made your luck tonight, do you?”
“Maybe,” he said as he led her to an intimate table away from the gambling area, “maybe not, but the one thing you need to remember is, a gambler’s the most superstitious animal in the forest.”
“Strange way to put it.”
He signaled a waiter to bring them drinks. “It’s not so hard to understand when you consider that his whole way of life is linked to the turn of a card or the roll of a dice.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re not only riverboat gamblers, but you’re bounty hunters as well?”
“We’re bounty hunters first and foremost. The gambling aboard the riverboat is more recreation than anything else. We travel the Mississippi about three times a year. The rest of the time, we’re stalking bounty, which takes us all over the west.” He indicated to the waiter to wait after he brought the drinks. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “So, that’s the story. You found me in New Orleans and followed me aboard the Twilight.”
“Something like that.”
“I can’t figure out how you knew me. I never had any tintypes made, and as for etchings, how could anyone make one and me not know about it?”
“I can’t answer that question. All I know is there are wanted posters floating around with your face on them. It doesn’t do you justice, but it looks enough like you that we recognized you right away.”
“So you set up your little masquerade to fool me,” she said angrily. “First by bursting into my cabin and pretending you thought it was yours.”
He smiled and shrugged. “What can I say?”
“And one thing led to another,” she whispered as she lowered her gaze and saw the way he
held her hand. “Beau,” she said with a husky whisper, “hasn’t our time together meant anything to you? Why would you want to lock me up after what we’ve been to each other? I promise to give it all up, if that will help. Okay? Please, Beau. Can’t you just look the other way this time? I don’t want to spend the best years of my life in jail.”
“Camille, we need some kind of gesture from you, like giving the jewels back to the people they belong to.”
“But you have them! Jesse’s out looking for the captain now.”
“We have the jewels, sure, and we’ll see that they get back to the right people, but what about you? You tell me you’ll quit, but I know the minute we let you go that you’ll be right back out there. The next time you get caught, you might not be so lucky. All it’ll take is some hard-hearted sheriff, or some money hungry bounty hunter that will not only get rich, but famous as hell for bringing you in. No more empty promises, Camille. We need to know you’re serious.”
“If I’m hesitating, it’s only because I need it to live on. Beau, I need to get along. Let me at least keep some of it so I can—” Her words faded when she saw the disappointment showing in his eyes.
“I just gave you a thousand dollar bill. That’ll get you started in a new life anywhere you want to go. And I’ve seen that closet of yours. It’s packed with clothes fit for a queen. You even have some very expensive jewels of your own. You won’t starve, Camille. Not by a long shot.”
“Could you live on a thousand dollars,” she cried out in anger as she looked down at his clothes, his jewelry, and saw nothing but wealth. “You know as well as I do that it wouldn’t last you a week, yet you expect me to do it. After that money’s gone I’ll have to hock everything I own. Why is that good enough for me, but not for you?”
“Please,” he whispered, looking around. “Sure, I have lots of things, but so do you. The difference between you and me is, when times get tough, I know how to put a halt to my spending until things pick up again. That’s the way it is with a gambler. They don’t win all the time. There are times when you have an unlucky streak, but it doesn’t last forever. You just have to ride it out until it picks up again. When it does, you make the most of it because you know those hard times will be showing up again, and soon.”
“But what will I do, Beau? If I can’t steal, I’ll probably wind up at some saloon hustling drinks. I have to make a living.”
“Fine. We’ll just turn you over to the local sheriff. Camille, you’re like a drunk. A little jail time is just what you need to dry out.”
“We don’t get into the next port for two more days. What are you going to do, handcuff me to you until then?”
“You’re forgetting Jesse. Between the two of us, we’ll be able to keep you honest.”
“And what about me? There’ll be times I need privacy.”
He smiled. “You mean like the other night with the soap suds?” He stroked her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll wash your back.”
“God, Beau, haven’t you even noticed that I’m a woman?”
He winked. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”
Just then Jesse walked up and sat down beside Camille. “I can’t find the captain. We’ll have to take her with us, and find him later.”
“Behind the curtain? Are you sure that’s wise?” Beau asked.
“For right now, it’ll have to do. If she behaves, she might just get a reward.” He smiled suggestively and looked down at her with a steely-eyed promise.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they walked toward the black curtain.
“To the gamblers’ hideaway,” Jesse answered.
“You mean that hellhole beyond the black curtain?”
“Right,” he said and stopped her before they got there. “Let me tell you a couple of things before you go in. First of all, don’t do or say anything that will attract attention.”
“Why?”
“Because to a gambler, a poker game is his livelihood. He has to keep his mind on the game, and that puts him under a lot of pressure. He’s concentrating, and anyone that disturbs that concentration is treading on dangerous territory. These guys take their poker seriously. There’ll be everything from land barons to hired guns in there, and you don’t want to fool with them. So whatever you do, be quiet.”
Quiet.
Camille smiled.
Chapter 8
THE cabin was smoky and close.
As soon as Camille entered, she was hit with an overwhelming odor of cigars mixed with cologne that was being quickly stifled by the stinging hint of whiskey. A green-topped table sat in the center with six men sitting around it. In among the cards were stacks of colorful chips, shot glasses, tall bottles of half-filled amber liquid, and mugs of beer. Some of the cowboys looked as if they’d just come in off the range with six-guns strapped to their hips, while others dressed like rich riverboat gamblers or oil men in lace-edged shirts, vests, string ties, and Derringers.
The rich ones looked as if they belonged there, but the cowboys had a look of hunger in their eyes. The higher the pot grew, the more they sweated until they had bet everything they had and still lost. Depending on who lost and who won, there might be hearty laughter, or foul language. Those who lost wanted to blame their bad luck on everything except their lack of skill. All had a predatory look in their eyes, their gazes shifting around the table, watching each other. The cabin was filled with a dappled darkness from the wall sconces. Sweat glistened on their foreheads, and flames inside the globes leapt as if from some imaginary wind.
Beau was right. It was a cabin filled with tension, right down to the table of food that looked as if it had been picked over. For some reason, the whole scene frightened her. She could tell at a glance that these men were dangerous. The look and the feel of the cabin deflated her, and she felt like wilting right down through the cracks in the plank floor.
Did she have the courage to carry out her plan?
When she moved further into the cabin, the darting glances from the men felt like daggers. Scowls from some, blatant interest from others, made a chill creep up her spine. She stood there watching, and then whispered to Beau, “When do you and Jesse play?”
“When the table is full, we have to wait until someone folds, and then one of us takes his place.”
“How long does the game last?”
“It can go on for days.”
Days? She wanted to scream! Was she expected to sit here for days? She’d been frightened before, but the thought of hanging around this stuffy cabin for days gave her backbone the steel it needed. She looked the men over, deciding which one she would approach. The one that looked the least dangerous was a pot-bellied, half-bald farmer. Camille didn’t have time to put her plan into motion before a rough-looking cowboy itching to put a notch on his gun took out his six-gun and laid it on the table. Everything at the table abruptly stopped.
“I saw that, friend,” he said.
Camille looked at the dealer whose dark, midnight eyes looked over at him. “And what is it you think you saw, Dakota?”
“You’re dealin’ from the bottom of the deck! A fuckin’ blind man could see it!”
“You accusin’ me of cheatin’?” the man in black asked.
“The last time I checked, I believe dealin’ from the bottom of the deck was cheatin’.”
“You’re wrong, Dakota. Ain’t no double dealin’ goin’ on here.”
The cowboy picked up his gun and pointed it at the dealer. “I would advise you to shuffle them cards and start again. This time, deal from the top ’cause I’ll be watchin’.”
The look on the cowboy’s face was murderous, and the tension mounted. Camille’s heart thrashed wildly in her chest, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. If a scuffle started, she could get lost in the confusion and slip out. Taking a deep breath, she cried out, “I saw it!”
The men turned and looked her way.
“That’s right, I saw it,” s
he said nervously. “He was dealing from the bottom of the deck, plain as anything. I was wondering when someone would call him on it.”
The mustached dealer shot Jesse a warning look. “Maybe the lady would like some air?”
Jesse caught the look and whispered to Camille, “Shut your mouth!” Speaking to the men at the table, Jesse said, “She didn’t see anything, gents. Just continue your game. Everything’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. I saw the dealer myself, and he was dealing from the bottom of the deck.”
“Camille, this is none of your business,” Jesse said in a threatening tone. “Just be quiet and let the gentlemen work it out themselves.”
Just then, the dealer said more emphatically, “Why don’t you get the lady out of here? I’ll reshuffle, and we’ll start again.”
“Why doesn’t anybody believe me?” She looked around at the others. “So he reshuffles. If he did it once, he’ll do it again, only more careful this time. You’re being robbed.”
“Camille, be quiet!” Jesse said.
Dakota looked at Jesse. “What the hell are you tryin’ to shut the little lady up for? Are you in on this, too? I saw the way you two looked at each other,” he said as he looked around at the dealer. “Are you and the dealer in this together?”
“Yes!” Camille shouted. “I happen to know they planned this from the beginning.”
Dakota rose from his chair and lifted his gun toward Jesse. “They did, huh?”
Camille broke from Jesse and quickly hurried over to Dakota and hovered behind him. “That’s not all,” she said to the others. “I’m being kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” the pot-bellied farmer said and looked over at Jesse. “What’s this the little lady is saying?”
“It’s nothing,” Jesse assured him. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
When she felt Jesse’s strong hand grab her arm, she turned quickly and looked up into a pair of steely-blue eyes.
“Sorry she interrupted your game. We’ll leave now.”
Rogues and Riverboats Page 5