Longarm and the Cry of the Wolf (9781101619506) Read Online Free PDF Page B

were fucking like a couple of wild horses, and you wanted to watch.” She looked at Longarm. “Forgive him, Longarm. He’s a fool, but a harmless fool.”
    â€œWhat the hell’s he doing with your old man’s hunting party?” Longarm asked in a disgusted tone.
    â€œHe’s father’s . . . well,
Captain
Sidney Ashton-Green, of the United States Cavalry . . . is Father’s bodyguard.”
    â€œBodyguard?”
    Ashton-Green glared up at Longarm now, as though realizing his life was no longer in danger, though his pride had been badly damaged. He pulled his vest down taut against his broad chest and glared up at the brawny, bronze-faced lawman, who stood a couple of inches taller and at least that much broader.
    â€œYes, bodyguard, you behemoth!” Ashton-Green’s eyes flicked to Longarm’s dong curving down against his thigh, and then he looked at the girl standing to his left and holding the blanket negligently against her at once coltish and voluptuous body. “And I don’t think your father would approve of your cavorting with savages such as this, Catherine. Good Lord, what are you thinking? Look at him!”
    â€œYes,” Catherine said, lowering her eyes. “Look at him.” Her eyes blazed angrily when she lifted them again to Ashton-Green. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs guarding my father or something?”
    â€œI’ll never understand it,” the bodyguard said, jerking his vest down again, cheeks flushed haughtily. “A girl of your station cavorting with . . . with the likes of this!”
    He flung a hand toward Longarm and then strode quickly out of the room. Longarm glanced at the man’s buckskin pants. They looked brand-new, and they sagged on his ass. Longarm slammed the door behind him.
    â€œSorry about that,” Catherine said. “He’s in love with me.”
    Longarm brushed the girl’s chin with his thumb and kissed her sleek neck. “I have a feelin’ just about every red-blooded man who runs into you falls head over heels.”
    As he dropped his pistol back into its holster, she wrapped her hand around his shaft. “Or at least head over cock.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she tossed the blanket onto the bed and kissed his lips, pressing her full, firm breasts against his chest and then running her nose against his thick longhorn mustache.
    â€œCome,” she said, turning away and drawing the bedcovers back. Let’s crawl into bed and snuggle till we fall asleep. I’m absolutely exhausted. You nearly fucked me to death!”
    As she got into the bed, Longarm walked over and stoked the charcoal brazier, for real this time, adding a shovelful of coal from a box behind it, and then climbed in beside the girl. He took a long pull from the rye bottle then returned it to the stand beside the bed.
    â€œWhat’s a general and his beautiful daughter doin’ up here in these mountains in weather like this?” he asked, settling into the bed. “Ain’t it warmer back East?”
    Yawning, she squirmed against him and rested her cheek on his chest, playing with the curly brown hair sprouting around his heavy, muscular slabs. “Mm-hmmm. But we decided to spend Christmas this year out at Father’s ranch near Sapinero. Father bought the spread six years ago, when he retired from President Lincoln’s cabinet in Washington, but we’ve only visited a handful of times. He lets his foreman run the place, with our fifteen to twenty cowpunchers. I love it there, but Father’s business interests lie in Washington and Virginia, and he can rarely get away.
    â€œAnyway, he and several of his business cronies and I came out to spend Christmas here and got socked in by the heavy snows in the mountains to the east, forbidding travel. Father and his pals were getting bored . . . and drunk . . . lounging around the ranch