Cold Steel and Hot Lead [How the West Was Done 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)

Other men were Rudy’s only pleasure in life anymore, now that he no longer wished to dally with women.

Rudy whipped the necktie aside and placed it on the settee. He fingered the top buttons of Derrick’s shirt. Derrick brushed aside Rudy’s fingers. “Yes, Castillo was raging at some poor girl who complained of having only one glove. ‘That costume only has one glove!’ he shouted. Poor girl. He looked about ready to decapitate her. He seemed like a fellow capable of extreme mayhem.”

Derrick shrugged off his shirt, tossing it to the settee alongside his necktie. Rudy stood, ostensibly to gulp some more whiskey, but really to display his bulging erection. Life was short. “It’s a dog’s life,” his mother used to say. Meaning that it was so full of travails that one had best relish one’s pleasure when one could get it.

Oh, absolutely glorious
. Derrick’s pectorals were fully developed, what one would expect of a man who slogged across snowy fields on skis and bashed a ball around a baseball diamond. A sudden blast of wind squealed between some chinking, brushing over Derrick’s gloriously bared chest, stiffening his nipples. They puckered into tight buds that Rudy longed to suck. When Derrick leaned forward to massage some pain in his calf, the hard abdominal ridges creased, making Rudy’s mouth water with hunger.

Leaning back in his chair, Derrick seemed completely unaware of his own beauty. Rudy was jealous that Derrick had been dallying in Alameda’s bedroom earlier that day. When Rudy had busted in, the feisty woman had been breathless, her mouth moist, obviously having just been kissed. And the erection nestled in Derrick’s trousers could have been seen a mile away. Rudy knew he had to make a move to assert his claim on this dashing politician before the woman mesmerized him. Men this thoroughly luscious only came along every…Well, never.

Rudy paused, holding the jar of bear grease. “Wait. Glove, did you say? She only had one glove?”

“Why, yes.” Derrick seemed intent on distracting Rudy from the glove. He now laced his fingers together at the back of his neck and gave Rudy a stunning show of his muscled, shimmering underarms. It was really only the thought of the glove that prevented Rudy from straddling him right then and there and shoving his cock down Derrick’s throat. That, and the idea that Derrick would paste him out flat if he tried. “I don’t know how a carpenter would know the costume details, but he seemed very adamant about it and looked about to wallop the girl if she protested a single second longer.”

Rudy gestured with the bear grease jar. “Does this ring any bells for you? One glove?”

Derrick stuck out his lower lip thoughtfully. “No. It should?”

“Yes.” Rudy resumed his seat, set down the bear grease, and picked up the rope. Gently, he motioned for Derrick to lower his arms and place them behind him. He threaded the ends around Derrick’s wrists. This wasn’t one of those bogus knots easily undone. Rudy wanted knots that might be done by an audience member, not trick knots undone by any blockhead. He had studied seafaring knots and was using a figure eight double ending with a midshipman’s hitch to ensure that Derrick, a novice, would never be able to escape unassisted. Derrick made a few nominal efforts to wriggle free, but it only served to flex his pectorals as he thrust his hips lower in the chair.

Rudy said, “Remember when Montreal Jed took one of Kittie’s gloves, saying the vibrations would lead her back to the present? That’s a typical illusionist’s trick to get the audience to concentrate on the glove, to think it has some special meaning. It doesn’t really.” He gave a final yank on his knot, satisfied.

“Yes, I recall that. Did you notice where he put her other glove?”

“Yes. Just down on his tray along with his other garbage. I doubt that whoever stole her had time to grab the glove before grabbing her.”

Derrick squirmed as he looked down at the open jar of grease. “Unless the midgets were in cahoots. We still need to interview them.”

Rudy scooped a couple fingers’ worth of grease and applied it to Derrick’s wrist, corkscrewing his palm around the stout thickness of it as though he were jacking his prick. He scooted his chair a few inches to the left so that it would inconvenience Derrick to look at him and took care to rub the grease into Derrick’s palms, where it warmed to his touch. “We’re not going anywhere else tonight. You think I want you wandering around the train or the circus in this dark blizzard?”

Derrick chuckled, looking straight ahead at the windows. “I haven’t always been a dainty legislator, you know, a weak scribbler. I was a captain in the Union Army, at Antietam, among other lovely vacation spots. Then I owned several gold claims and the best saloon in South Pass. I didn’t always sit around the senate chambers smoking cigars.”

Rudy now massaged the upraised hands for pleasure more than anything. He didn’t really want Derrick to escape his bonds—didn’t think he could. Derrick’s protestations gave Rudy the chance to discuss the subject utmost on his mind. Derrick’s body. “I didn’t think you got so well-built just arguing about bills and measures with other prigs. It’s obvious you’re an enthusiastic sportsman. Alameda mentioned you wanted to find some skis.”

Rudy dared to daub another few fingers’ worth of grease in a circular motion to the graceful slope of Derrick’s shoulder. Smooth as cream, his fingers slipped around the brawny muscles, and Derrick allowed his head to tilt back in acquiescence.

“She enjoys sports, too,” Derrick said, a bit hazy now. “She’s a fetching spitfire of a woman. The first woman I’ve sincerely wanted to court since my wife passed to the other side. I was going to ask you if I had your permission to court her, but I don’t suppose you mind.”

Rudy’s fingers froze on the creamy shoulder.
I do mind
. And it wasn’t just that he wanted Derrick for himself. Oddly, it was also that he wanted Alameda.

This idea horrified Rudy. Several years ago he had vowed to never allow himself to love a woman again. It wasn’t worth it to open himself up so fully to a frontier woman when they were the first ones always killed. Having shallow and meaningless encounters with only men meant he would never have to endure having his heart ripped out and stomped on the prairie.

“Why would I mind?” he lied, and resumed his massage.

“I didn’t think so.” Derrick rolled his head about, obviously enjoying the touch. He seemed to be drifting into a reverie now. “I should be glad you’re a poof and not in competition with me. I’m surprised she’s made it this long in Laramie without being claimed by anyone—one of those Freund brothers or any of the other hundreds of roustabouts in this place. She’s ravishing, Rudy. Do you not enjoy women at all? Have you always been this way?”

Oh, boy.
Rudy would have to further distract Derrick from this topic, because he did not wish to discuss women. Taking another dollop of salve, Rudy slid his greasy hand down Derrick’s pectoral, the crisp chest hair stimulating his palm. When he pinched the tight nipple, Derrick gasped and squirmed in his bonds.

“When do you want me to escape?” he asked.

Now Rudy massaged the stiff nubbin, pleased to see Derrick’s cock twitch and jump in his trousers. Here was this delicious stud literally at his fingertips, helpless in his bonds. When Rudy flicked his fingernail across the nipple, Derrick threw his head back with abandon, clearly without desire to fight against this exquisite torture. Without forethought Rudy leaped from his chair and straddled the politician, now placing his calloused thumbs against both nipples, rubbing them erotically. He plunked down on the burgeoning erection, pleased to feel it wedged between the globes of his ass.

“You could try now,” Rudy suggested mildly. While Derrick squirmed without enthusiasm, Rudy distracted him with patter. That was the showman’s way. It was pleasing the way Derrick’s indifferent struggling only served to flex the sinews of his chest and biceps. “If you want to get out of your bonds, you’re going to have to work for it. I’ll tell you about Winnie. I did used to make love to women.”

This was probably a good enough distraction to allow Rudy to gyrate his hips, massaging the rigid prick that was crammed against his pleasured scrotum. Derrick maintained a steady, unblinking gaze, his expressive eyes brimming with emotion of some sort—Rudy didn’t know what. “Who is Winnie?”

“She was my beloved. We were on the Powder River in sixty-six, at Fort Phil Kearny.”

Derrick stopped struggling, poised to hear more. Since Rudy had never talked about this event, he had no idea what he was about to say. It wasn’t like a war story one had rehearsed a hundred times. In fact, unshed tears welled up behind his eyeballs even to say her name aloud. “I was a scout for the cavalry. I never should have let her come. There was some big fuss with Chief Red Cloud.”

He did not want to discuss this! He lowered his head and opened his mouth over Derrick’s pliant lips.
Good
. He sucked and nibbled at the delicious mouth. Derrick tasted like a drink of orange whiskey. The gratification of domination swelled within Rudy. Derrick’s throat was vulnerably bared with his head thrown back like this, and Rudy’s mouth slid down to take a satisfying bite from it. Rudy simultaneously bit and licked the soft, tender spot behind his ear.

He nimbly unbuttoned the top few buttons at Derrick’s crotch. Being an escape artist often came in handy. His thumb rubbed the exquisite, soft line of hair that vanished there. He dared to plunge his hand down and grip the fine layer of fat that covered the steamy pubic bone, Derrick’s hot, glossy cock rubbing against the back of his hand. Rudy kneaded the mound while sucking on the underside of Derrick’s jaw. Derrick submitted to his power now. His writhing only stroked his erect cock against Rudy’s full balls, and his wiggling hips told Rudy that was his intention.

Yet Derrick found the presence of mind to ask, “What happened to your beloved?” This was probably his one last effort at resistance.

“There was a big war,” said Rudy against Derrick’s throat. His greedy hand wrapped around the impressive limb of the cock, so hot it nearly burned his palm. Scalding and glossy, with no ridge of foreskin to retract from the shiny glans, like a good Jewish boy.

“Indians killed her?” Derrick asked. But his voice came out ragged. Rudy knew the exquisitely painful feeling, being teased to distraction while bound. It was a thin line between agony and bliss.

“They became very irate,” Rudy murmured against Derrick’s collarbone. He slipped down so he kneeled on the carpet between Derrick’s outspread thighs, admiring the throbbing beef in his hand. His free hand grabbed the jar of grease—he wanted to see what this stupendous cock looked like all oiled up.
Dear Lord
. Rudy had never been this aroused. To have this nearly naked, capable stallion in his very hands, yet helplessly enslaved like this, steamed him to unbelievable heights.

The cock squished as Rudy pumped it with the grease. “They attacked us. We had very bad leadership and stumbled right into it.”

His distracting techniques must have been working. Suddenly Derrick didn’t want to know any more about Winnie. “Are you trying to hypnotize me with your animal magnetism?”

The circumcised tool was fascinating in its nakedness. “Is it working?” growled Rudy before lunging for the cock and sinking it down his throat.

Rudy sucked it like a ravenous wolf, snorting and guzzling. He greedily devoured the delicious prick while jacking it at the base with his fist. It was a delicious feast to have this helpless stud in his control. Derrick was unable to shove him away, if he was so inclined, and could only wriggle helplessly. Whether he wriggled from shame, recognition that he was being sucked by another man, or from overwhelming lust, Rudy didn’t know. But Derrick was setting up a nice rhythmic thrusting of his agile hips into Rudy’s mouth, and he hissed with the pleasure of having his cock sucked.

Without looking, Rudy dipped his longest middle finger into the bear grease. This was one of the many talents of the showman, to do things without looking. He didn’t want to give Derrick any warning before sliding his finger up his rectum. But the result was astounding. He plunged and wiggled it like a tiny dildo, seeking that tender spot. It was like walking a tightrope, balancing perfectly to find that spot that would release the flood of warm jism down his throat. It happened instantly.

Strangling on his own cries, Derrick bucked at his restraints. Rudy had to struggle to contain the spurting penis in his mouth. He gulped and gulped what seemed like bucketfuls of pent-up seed. Derrick pumped it down his throat with jerking hips. Rudy guzzled, moaning with contentment, gratified to be drinking his friend’s delicious semen.

When Derrick gasped and twitched, Rudy knew he’d had enough. He released the pulsating cock, which slapped loudly against Derrick’s abdomen. Now Derrick couldn’t look him in the face. He turned his head aside with eyes squeezed shut. Rudy knew that now was the time to tread lightly.

“I’ll be the king of all handcuff kings,” he proclaimed, his breath feathering Derrick’s balls. “You must never reveal my secrets.”

This made Derrick chuckle. At least he was taking it lightly. “Have no fear. Your secrets are safe with me. Now let me out of these damned ropes. I give up. I don’t even
know
your secret, for it’s impossible to get out of these, even with the grease.”

Regretfully, Rudy scooted behind Derrick and unknotted the reatas. “You look so beautiful all bound up like that. Prometheus chained.”