Karen Mercury (16 page)

Tabitha’s voice startled Worth. “You like that, don’t you, Worth? Tell me you like it, and I’ll let you do more.”

“I like it,” Worth murmured.
Jiminy crickets
. A year ago—hell, even a month ago!—if someone would’ve told him he would be enjoying the hell out of kissing another man, Worth would have wrestled this someone to the ground in violent denial. Now? Suddenly there was no shame, perhaps because Foster was such a damned libertine. Foster’s lack of shame encouraged Worth.

Foster had just grabbed him in the bathroom and fucked the stuffing out of him without regard to whether Worth really wanted it or not. Of course, Worth
had
, but did Foster know that? No, he did not. And Foster was such an all-out reprobate he had even given Worth’s own prick a little frigging, just to make it fair and square.

“I know you like it, you twisted stud,” Foster whispered against Worth’s mouth. He gave Worth’s lower lip another lick. “You liked it when I fucked you in the bathroom. You liked it when I speared you with my big penis. You liked it when I got you off against that mirror so you could watch.”

“Yes,” Worth admitted. “Watching gets me off.”

“It gets me off, too,” Tabitha purred. She took Worth’s free hand and placed it on Foster’s naked penis, which she must have unclothed while Worth was distracted. “Since I like you, Worth, I will give you the first suck of this beautiful, long penis. Would you like that?”

“I don’t know,” Worth murmured, licking the exquisite tip of Foster’s nose. “I’ve never done it before.” He had also never held another man’s tool in his hand, but he was somewhat experienced in navigating around a stiff one. He pumped it in his fist, taking great pleasure in Foster’s twitches and gasps.

Tabitha pressed against Worth’s shoulder. “Get down, Worth. Take this monstrous cock into your mouth. Suck.”

In a flash, Worth had swallowed the massive limb. He was instantly gratified to hear Foster’s high moan, obviously taken aback by Worth’s gusto. This encouraged Worth, and he found it was delicious sucking on the big cock. The tight velvety mushroom head at the back of his throat made him salivate for more. It was extremely gratifying to have his mouth and throat filled with another man’s slab of meat. This was one well-hung Scottish Jock. Already, Worth could tell from the fluttering against his tongue on the underside of the cock that Foster was dangerously close to expending.

Even better was Foster’s reaction. He inhaled in a hiss and exhaled in expletives. The greedier Worth slurped, the more obscene the words that sputtered from Foster’s mouth. “You goddamned—cocksucking molly boy—oh, good—that’s perfect—don’t stop!” He gripped Worth’s head while humping his cock in and out of Worth’s hot throat.

Meanwhile, Tabitha cooed in her beau’s ear while stroking his bared chest. “Is that good, Foster? Does your partner suck better than a girl?”

Tabitha was apparently blissfully unaware that her beau had been sucked on by many a lascivious and lusty fellow. Whether out of boredom or preference, Worth knew this was not Foster’s first, virginal experience with his member hardening in a randy fellow’s mouth. It steeled his determination to make this Foster’s most memorable cocksucking of all time, especially since it possibly was his only chance to make an impression on his cherished partner.

So Worth sped up his suckling, relishing the great smacking and choking sounds he made in his attempts to stuff the big tool down his gullet.

“Oh
God
, yes!” Foster cried in a strangled tone, and Worth knew he had him.

The semen surged up the underside of the cock to explode out the tip. Worth wasn’t prepared for the burst of salty jism that blasted the back of his throat. His mouth was immediately filled and he had not prepared to swallow, so it overflowed down his chin while he struggled to gulp.

“That’s good, Foster. Good…” Tabitha encouraged her suitor.

But he needed no encouragement. A fine tremor ran down Foster’s thighs, and he choked on his own cries as he squirted into Worth’s mouth. Worth, already getting the hang of it, had guzzled several mouthfuls of the tasty jism. He knew from past experience that to continue to gobble away at the cock would lead to overly sensitive pain, so he gulped one last time and drew back to lovingly nuzzle and lick the glans. He nearly laughed at the way it made Foster twitch and jump.

Foster shoved him rudely, so Worth tumbled back on his ass. Worth took it all in good spirit. If he was only allowed to participate in their courtship by pleasuring Foster, well, by gum, that’s the way it would be. Worth could not think of a place he’d rather be.

“I should be jealous, Worth,” Tabitha said. “How can I ever hope to top your exhibition?”

Worth struggled to his feet to get another whiskey. Clear bubbles swam before his eyes, and he had to shake his head to be rid of them. “It was your idea, miss,” he pointed out. “I didn’t make any claims for superiority.”

“Until you accomplished it.” Suddenly Foster was standing right behind him, eager for a refill, too.

Worth now felt embarrassed. He didn’t mean to take the glory away from such a shapely, stunning scamp as Tabitha Hudson. She should be allowed to enjoy her own beau without any interference from him—but it had been her invitation. “Well, if men get reborn as women, what about animals? When Phineas is reborn, will we cease to see her ghost? And will she become reborn as a cat?”

“We should ask Caleb these questions,” Tabitha said. “Maybe the ghosts are only there temporarily. For some reason they are stuck in the afterlife, unable to move on. I believe I’ve heard my father say something like that. He has Spiritualist leanings.”

Phineas appeared then, sitting in the middle of the room near the table Worth had shoved aside. She seemed placid enough and woofed quietly once.

“Is she agreeing?” Foster wondered. “Or maybe she doesn’t want to be reborn as a cat.”

Worth frowned. “If Orianna is still living, how could she have materialized those objects? Jeremiah spoke of his bear wrestler being able to manipulate a pencil, to draw a diagram of some alpine skis. And throwing those infernal snowballs. But that fellow was dead.”

“We don’t know for certain that Orianna had anything to do with the green gown,” said Tabitha. Worth wondered why she defended the woman who had caused Foster so much pain. “If she still lives, how could she have materialized those objects?”

Foster voiced the words in everyone’s minds. “Unless she’s dead.”

Tabitha was whipping both the men.

Remington Rudy had told her she was very good at this game, but she hadn’t known
how
good until she took on Foster. And she could never have guessed how good this made her feel, besting this muscular stud at a man’s game.

Rudy was at Tibbles House doctoring some patients today, so Tabitha was the instructor. At first they had played at trick riding. Tabitha showed them how to shoot an Indian—in this case, a scarecrow dummy Rudy had set up wearing a feathered headdress—while sliding down and nearly under the horse’s flank. Foster caught on very quickly, as a scout already accustomed to riding bareback. He could shoot the scarecrow from under the pony’s neck, although only Tabitha could do it from under her mount’s middle. Rudy had told her this was the Cossack method of trick shooting. It was Rudy’s way of not giving credit to the Sioux, as he held something mysterious against them.

But it was the hoop and pole game where Tabitha really shined. Rudy had obtained a woven hoop from some Sioux, or someone who knew them. The web of leather thongs that made up the two-foot hoop had a different value for each opening a rider could pierce with his sharpened pole. Someone—probably Worth—would roll the hoop and the others would take turns trying to pierce the center, or “heart” of the hoop. Tabitha was excellent at this. It would be fun besting Foster, the masculine he-man.

“The score is seven to seven,” called Jeremiah. He stood what seemed like a mile away, safely behind a pine tree. “And Worth has two coups, if you want to include his score.”

Worth circled back around on his pony. “I’m a photographer, not a goddamned rodeo roper. How about you, Montreal Jed? What’s your score?” Montreal Jed had ridden out to their shooting range in the wagon, that’s how afraid he was of horses.

Jeremiah snapped, “I’m not playing and you know it, smart aleck. Now, Tabby!” he blared through a cupped hand. “I think it would be sporting of you to allow Mr. Richmond the first shot at a hoop.”

Foster probably had no idea how competitive Tabitha was. So on his first go, he loped easily by the rolling netted hoop. He even heaved his spear at a difficult angle, nearly over his shoulder, to display how simple it was. He seemed proud of his achievement, though he didn’t know he had only hit one of the “buffalo calf” rings not worth as many coups.

“Oh, very,
very
good,” Tabitha called smarmily. She trotted her mount casually, but the moment the hoop was released from Worth’s stick she was playing for keeps.

She didn’t bother with any fancy maneuvers. She would impress Foster with her sheer ability to hurl her spear dead center through the heart of the hoop while galloping at breakneck speed. Worth seemed to be attuned to her rhythm, for he rolled the hoop in synchronicity with her gait. She heaved the pointed stick with all her might, and her aim was true, right through the heart of the hoop. Now she was allowed to scoop up both their hurled spears, another way to count coups.

She did not rub it in—in fact, did not even look at Foster in her triumph. But she could tell that he took his next attempt more seriously. Nothing fancy this time as he lobbed his spear. A ray of shame went through Tabitha’s competitive heart that she was glad that he’d only hit one of the outer “wolf” rings.

After she’d captured Foster’s first four spears, she had to console him. “I’ve been practicing this game quite a bit lately. Remington Rudy was the finest rodeo rider in the West. He only quit when he realized he had a healing talent. But, really, when I was in mourning, we did this nearly every day.”

“I can tell,” snorted Foster. But his eyes did seem to flicker with amusement.

He didn’t take it so badly when Tabitha won all seven of his spears. She had to piss by now, so rode off toward a stand of cottonwoods near a stream.

She was rooting through her saddlebag for some jerky when Foster’s bay trotted between the trees. “We must have a celebration dinner tonight, with Remington Rudy and your sisters,” Foster proclaimed.

“Yes. Maybe Rudy can give you a few tips on the hoop game.” This was the first time Tabitha had rubbed it in. She was glad to see Foster wasn’t miffed, and he dismounted gracefully.

“You are the fiercest contestant I’ve ever gone up against,” Foster said sunnily.

“I play to win,” Tabitha admitted.

Foster gripped her by the back of the neck and kissed her forehead, but he seemed more interested in swiping her jerky and biting into it. “I went to see Chang this morning while you were dressing. He confirmed the Paris Green poison. They’re using it to kill potato beetles around here, but in Paris they use it to kill rats in sewers. Some artists paint with it.”

“And Phineas’s skull?”

Foster composed his face and looked out at the creek. “Paris Green.”

She knew he didn’t want to discuss it, but someone had to. “Who do you think…”

Foster spoke swiftly. “Orianna could have killed Phineas two years ago. But how that connects to a brand-new dress being dyed with the same poison, I have no idea. Does Caleb know Rudy? Maybe we could have them both for dinner tonight.”

“I believe Rudy only met Caleb once, when Caleb was in the form of a wolf, but we’re all one big family.”

Foster stopped chewing. “The form of a wolf? You mean, like the wolf we saw playing with Phineas in the yard?”

“You’re right. I never thought of that. That was probably Caleb, too. Just ask Harley. He’s seen Caleb turn into a bison. And the day Liberty and her men met Caleb, he was an eagle.”

Foster smiled and shook his head, as though prepared to believe anything that happened in this loco town. “I know Indians think some humans can transform into animals, so what’s not to believe?”

Tabitha said, “I don’t think Caleb actually
transforms
. I think it’s more like, his spirit inhabits the body of the animal. His spirit is a guest there for awhile. When Caleb’s spirit leaves, the animal is free to continue with his normal animal behavior. Thus maybe why the wolf in our yard playing with Phineas suddenly became afraid and ran off. That was the same time Caleb appeared in our parlor.”

Tabitha kissed Foster then, for it’d just occurred to her they were in the perfect hideaway for canoodling. As he was standing in the dappled sun, the cowhide scent of his leggings filled her nostrils. She removed his slouch hat, tossed it to the grass, and luxuriated in smearing her palms over his silken, flaming hair.

Foster gave her a great sense of security. Tabitha had been without a purpose since Parker’s death. She had spent ten years of her life in New York caring for her ailing mother. Once her mother had blessedly passed, she had been free to court Parker, and it had been the most glorious year of her life, only to have that ripped from her as well. Many times during her past year of mourning she had wondered if maybe she was just not meant for the fun life, the life of joy. She was meant to be the daughter who just went about in severe shirtwaists, caring for her sister’s children. Ivy already had two little ones and Alameda another two, although Liberty seemed to be holding out in her suffragist work ethic, schooling everyone else’s children.