Page 59 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Easy," I said with a soft laugh, reaching into my pocket, pulling out the container, and holding it up to him. The writing on it was smudged and a little dirty from the storage shed, but that didn't matter. I knew what it was. "All you need is some good quality gun oil. The cheap stuff creates...a gross mess. And other stuff like butter or lard? That's even worse. And thesmell."

To my surprise and delight, his nose immediately wrinkled. “Tell me about it."

"Good Lord, you used something like that?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

I snorted. “Well, that makes sense. I wouldn't want to talk about it either."

He plucked the container from my hand and looked it over, opening it and sniffing. "Gun oil?"

"Goodgun oil," I corrected with a smirk. "What did you end up using that was good?"

"It was...well, he had it. Some oil from across the ocean. Never really said what it was."

"Huh," I said thoughtfully. "There's a few different ones, but those are extremely expensive and hard to get your hands on. But good gun oil? Well, you can always count on someone to have some somewhere. And if they don't, just find your local general store or someone with a big wagon that doesn't shoot you for daring to get too close."

"That happen to you often?"

"More than you'd think. People aren't exactly trusting in these parts."

"Well, considerin' what you were doin' before?—"

I raised a brow, amused and slightly confused at his attempt at tact. "While I appreciate your attempt not to sneer and say outlaw, it wasn't because of that. Most of the time, I spent on my own, and when I got pulled into a group, it was generally against my will. Thankfully, if the leader has any brains, you can talk your way out of getting dragged through the desert or a bullet in your brain. Those liked to use me as the charming face of the group, so I was used to approaching people on my own."

"Charming?"

"Extremely charming. Fact of the matter is, I was prepared to live in this kind of place, at least outside the ranch."

"Why's that?"

"Because I already knew people can't be trusted, and anyone approaching you should be dealt with cautiously and with your head on straight. Trust is rarer in these parts than water and for a damn good reason. Though...maybe not for long."

He frowned. “What do you mean?"

Was it important to tell him I’d heard more than a few things about the plans coming from the East? Of the concentrated effort to bring order and law to the chaos and lawlessness of the West? From the sounds of it, there was a lot more than just talk and muttering into cups. Even now, groups of lawmen were working their way West and had started hunting down gangs, burning down corrupt towns, tearing down brothels, and arming and training lawmen already here to be even more effective.

God above, he would probably get even harder than he was...or would he?

"That is a discussion for another time," I told him, wiggling the container at him first. "Because I need to use this," and wiggled the erection in my hand. "to get this inside me. Unless,of course, you want to discuss politics. But I warn you, any discussion involving politics requires a hard drink in my hand."

"I think you'd like something else hard," he said, giving me a small smirk.

My brow quirked. “I'm not sure where this sense of humor came from or why it seems only to come out when you're aroused, but I'm not going to argue."

Something I didn't recognize flicked in his eyes, and he pushed my hand away to grip himself, pushing the leaking head toward my mouth. "Suck."

I wasn't normally one for taking orders unless it meant the difference between life and death. I would, however, always make an exception for a handsome man, rock-hard and eager to feel my mouth on him. While he might not know it or be willing to admit it, I knew he had complete power when that happened. He might be more than willing to use his hips or his hands to move my head, but at the end of the day, it was ultimately me who held him in the palm of my hand...or my throat, to be more specific.

I leaned forward and took the head into my mouth, tasting him and the tang of soap, which told me he had made sure to bathe before bed. It wasn't as if I hadn't done the same thing just to be safe, but the simple act of caring that much about not shoving his sweaty, dirt-covered body parts into me was appreciated. Well, if it meant he was a lot more into this than he normally showed, that was for another time.

My focus shifted to bobbing my head, focusing on his taste rather than the faint soap. The key to getting someone of a noticeable size like him deep was to get at least half of him slick with spit. That also resulted in plenty of wet, sloppy sounds that made his legs tense beneath me, so I figured he didn't mind.

A soft noise escaped him, and his hand slid into my hair, pushing the last couple of inches into my throat. Normally,he kept to muted grunts and the occasional strangled growl, probably out of fear of being overheard. I had wondered if that might just be how he was or if he might be holding himself back, strangling a more expressive part of him. If this was any indication, perhaps there were some depths to be plumbed if only he were given the proper motivation and felt like he had some privacy.

Ah, to have him all alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, with no other souls in sight.

For now, though, I reveled in the way he groaned as his shaft pulsed against my tongue and in my throat. There was no question he was enjoying himself, especially when I reared back and pushed him down into my throat after only going halfway. He was undoubtedly still worked up from our bit of fun earlier, which had been intended to give him some release, so it didn't happen too quickly tonight. Alas, Walter had shown up and squandered my original plan.

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