Read Slocum #395 : Slocum and the Trail to Yellowstone (9781101553640) for Free Online Page B

scratch the top side of his erection. Her breath came in deep draws, and the result was all a part of their intercourse. Despite his effort to hold his weight off of her with one arm, her large breasts shook under him.
    Then he knew his time drew toward the end. A tingling in his balls said he was about to come. He gave her a deep shove, and she clutched him tight enough that his shoulder complained. Then he exploded inside her, and she cried out, “Yes, yes.”
    She pulled him down and smothered him with kisses.
    When they had untangled at last, he sat on the edge of the bed, spent and pleased.
    She took two tries to get up and soon was sitting beside him. Her calloused hand squeezed his leg and shook it. “I never thought something that good would ever happen to me. It was better than any of my honeymoons with any of them others.”
    He reached around and forced her to look at him so he could kiss her. He just about laughed at her wide-eyed look of shock. Good for her.

4
    No way could Slocum leave Wilma at home. When he mentioned that he wanted to go check on those two killers’ location, she told him she had to go along. They caught her thickset horse and saddled him along with Red. With some deer jerky tucked away for him to gnaw on, Slocum planned to make a quick run up to Deushay and Roberson’s place and observe them.
    He tied on his bedroll in case the errand ran over into the night. He took his .44/40 rifle that shared his pistol cartridges, loaded it, and slammed it into the scabbard under his right leg. Wilma wore men’s waist overalls under her dress. Her part-workhorse jogged beside Red, who trotted. They left Wilma’s before daybreak and crossed over the crown of the Bighorn Pass by the time the sun came over the Black Hills far to the east. They traveled through brushland covered in sage, and she led him across the mountains and took a path off to the west.
    â€œThat valley far over there is where the army and the Cheyenne fought.” She tightened the string that held her felt hat on against the growing wind and pounded her horse with her heels to move on.
    â€œTheir place is in this valley ahead and back to the right up a canyon at the base. There’s no good way to cross over to get to them, so we’ll need to approach it from the mouth of the canyon.”
    â€œSounds good enough.”
    She smiled. “They could be gone or out roaming around looking for more mischief.”
    He nodded that he’d heard her. Two worthless tramps had murdered and raped a good woman. As long as they breathed free air, Slocum aimed to dog them down. Besides, since they’d shot him in the back, he owed them enough lead to stop their breathing.
    Slocum and Wilma dropped off the slope and took a dim, twisty road down through the pine timber. He kept his hand close to his sidearm and studied the evergreen-covered slopes for any sign of a threat. They emerged on a flat, and she tossed her head to the right.
    â€œThey up there?” he asked.
    â€œThat’s where the small lake and spring are, as well as their cabin.”
    He dismounted and took the field glasses from his saddlebags. “I’ll go take a look.”
    With Red’s reins safely clutched in Wilma’s hand, Slocum started up the canyon on foot. There were some tracks in the dirt of the two ruts, but none looked very fresh. He continued the hike up until he could see the low-walled cabin. He focused his field glasses on the small structure—he saw no smoke, which meant they either were not cooking or were gone. Since there was no sign of any saddle stock, he doubted they were home.
    He moved in to examine the area at closer range, staying next to the timber, and made his way toward their camp. After a half hour spent lingering near the cabin, he could not see any activity, nor any stock. He found the back door barred on the outside. He removed the lock, then pushed open the door to a room that