“I intend to keep plenty warm, making use of all your holes. It’s been a while since I had some, and you’re a pretty thing. When you set up camp, you strip down to the waist. I want to see your tits.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Damn straight, whatever I want. That’s how it’s supposed to be. I worked my ass off to be successful. Evie let herself go, then dried up like an old prune. She expected me to do without. Fuck that.”
“So, you killed your wife because she wouldn’t put out?”
“Not really. If she’d have gone quietly for a couple of million, she could have lived, but she swore she’d make them give her at least half of everything. She didn’t work for it… I did. It’s mine.”
They came to a stretch of the pass that widened out and had a good spot for camping and the horses to be staked out with water and forage. Eastwick dismounted first and moved to a safe distance while Willa dismounted and took Sadie’s reins to tend to the horses.
“You’re forgetting something, Willa. I want to see your tits now.”
Willa took a deep breath and removed her sweater and bra. Eastwick had disarmed her at her house and had that gun tucked in one of the saddlebags on Sadie. Willa had made a note of which one when they were getting ready to leave.
Eastwick leaned back, and she could feel him watching her work as her breasts swung free for him to ogle. As she gathered wood and set up the campfire, sweat trickled down her face and neck, trailing to and through the valley between her breasts.
“Take your boots off and toss them over here to the side of me. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m so horny right now, I’d fuck a corpse.”
“I don’t want to die, Eastwick. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
“Of course, you will. I’m the one with the gun… and the hard-on.” He laughed.
She removed her boots.
“Socks, too.”
She removed her socks, tucked them into her boots, and tossed them where he’d indicated.
“Now, the rest of your clothes. You cook and cater to me naked, so I can decide which hole I want to fuck first. Ever been butt fucked?”
“Not until recently. Can’t say it’s my favorite thing.” She couldn’t keep the blush from staining her cheeks as she remembered the way Mac taking her bottom hole had made her feel.
“Well, then, that’ll have to be the first hole I use.”
Willa suddenly heard the distinctive almost prairie dog-sounding twill of the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher—a bird rarely heard in Arizona, but the State Bird of Oklahoma. Mac was here. She schooled herself not to react and finished undressing.
Once naked, she built a fire and put the cooking gear together. If possible, she meant to drive her best chef’s knife through Eastwick’s heart.
He laughed as she jumped when he patted her rump. She hadn’t heard him approach.
“Somebody’s been spanked recently. You like getting spanked, Willa?”
“Not really.” She prayed Mac would only have John or John and Gus with him.
“Your man likes to make you submit to him, doesn’t he? Are you a good little submissive? Or does he make you submit? Is that how you ended up with a good ass paddling and butt fucking? Personally, I like a little fight in my girl. I find the best way to remind a woman of her place is to butt fuck her and sprayyour cum all over her back. Maybe I’ll write him a little note and suggest that.”
Willa cringed inside but focused on staying alive and keeping Eastwick’s attention on her, so Mac could do whatever he needed to do. The sound of the Scissor-tail came again. She darted her eyes to its source and saw Mac. He held up his hand flat then indicated he wanted her to drop down. He raised three fingers, lowered one, lowered a second, then lowered the last one.
As she dove to the ground, behind she heard, “Federal marshals, Eastwick, drop your weapon.”
Eastwick turned to fire, leaving himself vulnerable to an attack by Willa. She grabbed a good-sized tree limb she’d used in the fire and broke it over his head, dropping Eastwick to the ground. She had scooped up the rifle before Mac or John could close the distance to her. Eastwick was shaking his head as the two marshals entered the camp.
“Get up, you slimy son of a bitch. Make a play for me now. Give me half an excuse to drop you.”
“I’m unarmed. You can’t shoot an unarmed man, not with two marshals as witnesses.”
“Wanna bet?” she said, clearly composed and capable of doing precisely that. “I’m pretty sure neither of them arrived here until after it was over. They found me sitting away from you, doubled over in tears and terrified. Your spare gun in your hand. Isn’t that right, boys?”