I’d found no new dust at Mary-Belle’s—only the tiny bit near her window. I still believed it was remnants of the red clay that coated our town—not red-magic-witch-sand from the far-away-scary-as-shit mountain.

The feeling of missing something obvious still lingered and I’d remained in the dead woman’s room, pacing in circles and rechecking every square inch until sun down. After that, I’d had to hunt down and then lock up a very drunk Peter Smith so he could dry out before he got himself shot. Then I’d visited Madam Jenny and settled a dispute between her and that old cheapskate Lewis Wallace.  He’d gotten the full work up but only wanted to pay for a blow job because, as he put it, “it was only ok.” I don’t know what Madame Jenny was more upset about—being shorted the cash or Lewis bad mouthing one of her girls. You’d think she’d have learned her lesson after the fiasco with Leland earlier in the day. 

On my way out of the bar, I’d had to break up a fight. Being a Davis meant that my skin was mostly indestructible. It was my family’s blessing—that we were tough as nails. Literally. It had its advantages, and I’d been able to get everyone out of the saloon with only a minor scratch. Of course, I’d had to kick a little ass, but that’s part of the job. (Or maybe one of the perks, depending on when you asked me.)

When I’d finally hopped on Diana for the long ride to my house outside off town, I was one big pile of knotted tension.

I’d arrived home and wanted nothing more than to take care of my appaloosas and fall into bed. The day had turned into a long one, as usual.

Thank the gods for Jon. Sweet, reliable Jon, who always knew what I needed to feel better.

He’d filled our huge copper bathing tub with water and then warmed it by fire. I’d shucked my clothes right on the porch and jumped in.

He’d joined me.

We sat in silence, neither feeling the need to speak, as we soaked, and Jon began to massage my feet.

Being good with his hands was only one of Jon’s many talents.

“That’s amazing,” I moaned. I leaned my head back into the warm water and looked toward the stars that blanketed the sky. They were so heavy that the night above me seemed like a single, expertly cut crystal who’s many facets winked and sparkled.

Somewhere in the distant dark, a coyote yodeled.  Minutes later his mate joined him, turning his melancholy song into a duet. To me, it was the unmatched beauty of the desert night.

At the other end of the copper tub, Jon moved from kneading the soles of my feet to massaging my calves.

“Mmm” I sighed.

“You work too hard, Little Wolf,” he said, using the nickname he’d given me the day we met. Jon moved his hands north, onto my thighs.

“I know,” I said. “It’s just that I should be able to solve these murders, yet they keep happening. GloryLand just ain’t that big of a place. If there is a monster here, then I should be able to sniff him out.”

Jon smiled, his face an opaque screen. I never knew what he was thinking.

“Maybe I can help you relax,” He said, slyly. His rough hands continued to squeeze the inner and outer thigh of one tired leg and then the other.

“That’s nice,” I purred.

He inched his fingers upward, moving higher until he reached between my legs where he caressed my clit with his thumb, pulling from me a deeper need. The delicious tension continued to build as he stroked, back and forth and back and forth, until every muscle of my body tensed. I lay my head back in the water, but kept my eyes open, hungry with anticipation.

Jon slid his fingers against my slick wetness and rubbed.

I shuddered as the hot tingle continued to build. When I couldn’t stand it, I sat up, sloshing water over the sides of the bathing tub. Jon didn’t stop. I moaned as he slid first two, and then three fingers deeper into my sex, moving his index finger until he found just the right spot. The look on his face was serious as ever as he drew another moan from deep within me. My nipples puckered, and I wished for his mouth to cover them. To suck and flick and even bite and nip. As if he could read my mind—or maybe we were than in sync—Jon moved to my end of the tub, his knees tucked under him. His lips started at my ears, then neck then collarbone. I resisted the urge to grab his face on either side and push him down until my breast was in his mouth. I knew better—if I tried to rush him, he’d take pleasure in making me wait.

The moonlight shown against my pale breast, as he took one protruding nipple gently in his teeth, running his tongue over the sensitive tip, then sucking hard, he pulled much of my small, pert breast into his mouth.  With one hand, he pinched the tip of my other breast, hard, and the pain made me teeter on the edge of ecstasy as I clenched around the fingers of his other hand, that were working furiously below.

Then he stopped.

“No,” I moaned. “Please, Jon. Please.” I opened my eyes to catch the gleam in his gaze. He oh-so-slowly began to stroke me again. It was painstaking and teased my body until I couldn’t stand it. His tongue traced the round, pink outline of my areola.

“Ask me nicely, Little-Wolf. Patience is a virtue.”

“Please Jon.” I meant it. I was the Sheriff of GloryLand—I never begged a man for anything. I single handedly rounded up the baddies and kept the women and children—and yes even the men—of our small territory safe. A member of the Davis clan had been Sherriff for as long as GloryLand had been occupied—but I was the first daughter. I was a woman doing a man’s job and I took it seriously.

But Jon—with his deep copper skin and ropey muscles—held the power to make me beg until I cried.

“I need it Jon.”

“You need it?”

“Yes. Baby. Please.”

Mischief danced in his black eyes, but it never crossed his face. Instead, his fingers again picked up speed. I looked down to see his girth expand under the warm water and it sent yet another thrill through me. I’d never grow tired of Jon’s cock. The way it filled me, stretching me and pushing me in a way that almost made me orgasm just thinking of it.

As his fingers began to gather momentum, the perfect, hot tension again began to take hold. It started in my sex and the heat slid up through my abdomen, to my chest, and across my face.

He thrust his fingers deep in me, this time four, and found the perfect spot.

Every muscle in my body tensed, my sex tightening around his fingers. Finally, with my head tilted and back arched, under the GloryLand desert sky, I released.

He pulled away and looked down into my face. Once, as we lay in bed under the covers, he’d confessed how he loved to watch me come. “Your face is wild and free in a way you never are. And I made you feel that way,” he’d said. It had made me feel special. Beautiful.

Jon slid back to his side of the tub and continued to eye me with a sexy, mischievous look.  The head of his enormous cock saluted me over the top of the water. God I wanted it inside me.

I’m tiny compared to Jon’s six foot three frame, and he smiled down at me. I climbed onto the tops of his legs and kissed him hard on his mouth.  I opened his lips with my own and drew him deeper into the kiss and bit him lightly on the lip. I pulled away. Jon wrapped his arms around my slight frame.

I moaned loudly, as I reached down and took Jon’s erection in my hand and squeezed. I caressed his length before spreading my legs wide and slowly sliding it inside of my wet center. I lowered myself as far down as I could, taking all of him inside me. Then I pulled his face toward mine, and we breathed the same air as I rode him like only a cowgirl could.

My breathing quickened as I bucked and swayed and bounced. His length barely fit and his girth filled me completely. Without dismounting, I turned my back to Jon and continued my ride in his favorite position, facing away into the backward cowgirl. He squeezed my breast in his large hands, then moved one hand down, slipping his fingers over my clit in rhythm with my thrust. Even under the water I could feel the slip of his fingers against my pussy. He pressed and rubbed, taking my nub between his thumb and index finger and squeezing lightly.

Again the warmth built until it exploded inside of me, and this time I could barely move. Jon grabbed my hips, and with his strong arms, thrust me three more times, before I felt him come inside.

Jon gathered me in his arms and carried me naked into our cabin.