Karen Mercury Read Online Free PDF Page A

Foster’s rigid abdomen, and they were in a clinch again, hugging each other, out of breath. But Foster had the presence of mind to grab a handful of Worth’s hair and jerk his neck back so he could stare at him with those cool green eyes and snarl, “You fucking tease. You think you can stand around showing off your thoroughbred physique and make all the men hot as monkeys.”
    Worth frowned. “What are you talking about? You mean when I was bathing—”
    Foster shoved him so unexpectedly Worth did take a tumble on his ass. He was so taken by surprise by Foster’s odd statements that he didn’t even try to stand, and in the flashing of an eye Foster was straddling him, pinning his hands to the grass above his head. Worth made a nominal attempt to squirm free, but he was more interested in what Foster had to say than in winning any damned purse. As the expedition’s photographer, he made ten times what the soldiers made. Although with the bad voodoo that was bound to come from all this gold digging, he didn’t think he wanted to be a part of it anymore. Bloody Knife had succeeded in scaring him with all that taku-wakan talk.
    “You just like to tease men’s cocks,” Foster now snarled as the company around them roared. “You’re one of those nancy boy poofs who take pleasure in making men hard.”
    “I was just bathing!” Worth protested, though not so loud for any soldiers to hear. “I didn’t ask for you to come along and get all hot over my physique.”
    Just as he uttered these words, it became very apparent that Foster’s prick was bulging in the crotch of his tight drawers. Was Foster one of those fellows who became stimulated when they had the upper hand, by being the aggressor? Just feeling the stiff penis rub against his own flaccid cock was exciting. Worth enjoyed besting other men, too. What would be the outcome when one he-man stallion butted heads with another, both determined to be the victor?
    Worth squirmed his hips some more, just to see the effect it would have on the scout. He had heard Bloody Knife call this ginger fellow “Fireball.” He certainly was a powerful barbarian. Most of the time he loped about silently, dignified and noble, watching for Indian or buffalo sign, Worth presumed. The man was some sort of songwriter as well, constantly fiddling around the fire and bleating out tunes he’d composed. And why had he given up his lawyerly life? There was some deep mystery behind that.
    Foster Richmond had always been an intriguing, mysterious character, and now he was rubbing his prominent erection against Worth’s expanding cock. And he called him a tease? Every time Foster humped his massive prick against Worth’s, a delicious shiver went down his spine straight to his ballooning balls. It was all Foster’s fault that now every last man-jack in the company would be laughing and pointing at his rigid johnson the second he got to his feet.
    If Foster ever let him up. Now he growled, “Like you don’t know how built you are. I’ll show you. I don’t need to lift any damned dumbbells to beat you.”
    Indeed, Horatio was counting the seconds Worth had been flat on the ground, and he was nearly down for the count. Foster’s randy nature was riling Worth, and perhaps it was that jolt of lust and anger combined that gave the strength to his lunge that tossed the scout entirely off his body.
    Worth leapt to his feet, uncaring that several men were already laughing at his bulging erection. “Get up, you slimy toad!” he shouted, putting up his fists at the ready.
    Foster looked so stupid sprawled there. His green eyes appeared dazed, and his own erection was already flagging. Foster was like a dominant feral dog, determined to pin down his enemy by brute force. He seemed shocked that he was currently losing. He shook his head and came at Worth swinging.
    It was just a lucky blow, actually. But Worth actually heard the crack when his fist connected with Foster’s jaw. He almost