Renegade 17 Read online

  “Hold it. That’s twelve miles, and she’s wearing high-heeled high-buttons. Can you get us a trio of burros?”

  “But of course. I shall leave at once to pay a call on a rogue I know. I am sure he can supply us with mounts. But burros make such distressing hee-haws, so it would be best if I stayed well away from either hotel with them, non? Let me think. Ah, I shall have the burros ready in a safe place. I shall meet the two of you at Pedro’s Smithy in the Barrio Viejo”

  “Gotcha,” said Captain Gringo. He looked at his watch before he added, “I’ve still got time for forty winks if I set the alarm. I could use a bath, too. Take your stuff and one of these carbines so you don’t have to come back, and make sure nobody follows you from this hotel, right?”

  “Merde alors, Dick! Have you ever known me to be followed through dark alleyways far enough to be of any possible importance?”

  Captain Gringo nodded, picked up his own carbine, and stuffed half the .38 rounds from the carton Claudette had given him in the side pocket of his jacket. Gaston was still gathering his own things as the younger man left. He headed for the baths at the end of the hall before entering his own room. His bedroom bout with Claudette had left him feeling a little gamy, and a hot soak would do wonders for his bones, too. He was in good shape, but they’d overdone things a little back there, and he felt like he’d run a few miles. He grinned to himself as he ran the tub and stripped in the bath cubicle. At least he wasn’t going to wake up with a hard-on in the foreseeable future!

  But, it was a funny thing. As he settled his abused body in the comforting warmth of his bath, his damned fool tool responded to the luxurious tap water by twitching like an awakening monster. It got even harder when he carefully soaped it clean. He muttered, “I just want to make sure you don’t get an infection, you silly little bastard. If we were jerking off I’d let you know.”

  The aroused, probably over sensitized creature seemed to have a mind of its own as he carefully made sure nothing naughty was imbedded in a pore or wrinkle. Sodomy in the tropics was as much fun as anywhere else. But a guy really had to worry about infection down here. And if there was one place he didn’t want a tropic ulcer, his dong was it.

  He got out and dried, trying to ignore the dumb erection. It was not only impossible but pointless at this hour. He dressed and returned to his room. As he unlocked the door, he saw by the light not shining from under the door next to his that Gaston had already left.

  He ducked inside, then stiffened and reached for the .38 under his left armpit as he saw he was not alone in the room!

  Then he relaxed as Maria switched on the bed lamp. His mestiza lay atop the sheets stark naked. It was warm, but not that warm, in San José at night. He started to ask her what the hell she was doing there, but that would have been a dumb question indeed, so he didn’t.

  Maria smiled up at him and said, “Oh, querido, it is so late. I was afraid I would fall asleep before you came.”

  He said, “You’re supposed to fall asleep after I come. Gaston didn’t tell me you were here. What’s up?”

  “You, I hope. Gaston says the two of you are leaving town for a few days. Is this true, Deek?”

  “Yeah, but we’ll be coming right back,” he lied. He felt shitty lying to such a sweet little thing. But peon girls threw such goddamn fits when you told them just to forget you that he’d given it up as a bad and sometimes dangerous habit.

  As he slipped out of his clothes, Maria said, “Oh, I am so happy. You most obviously expected to find me here, no?”

  He hadn’t. But he didn’t say so as he rolled atop her and she grasped his erection to guide it in. He wondered how the hell his pecker could have been expecting this ahead of him.

  *

  Maria had been waiting, expectantly, long enough to be almost crazy with desire as he lowered himself into the saddle of her tawny open thighs and let her put it in for him. She closed her eyes and crooned with delight as he did so. He kept his own eyes open to take in the delightful view as she gave herself to him. Her solid, almost stocky’ little brown body was such a contrast to Claudette’s European build and whiter skin that he found, to his pleasant surprise, he seemed to be starting from scratch. Her firm brown breasts heaved up to meet his chest as she pulled him down on her and begged, “Kiss me, por favor! I wish to be kissed while I am climaxing!”

  He kissed her. Her lips felt nothing like the lips he’d just left across town. Nothing about her felt the same. It was great. He repressed a chuckle as Maria tongued him passionately. He knew he should be feeling like a shit for having cheated on her. But there was something to be said for a change in partners. In truth, he’d been getting so much of little Maria of late that the dew had been fading from the old rose. Returning to her sweet, warm brown body after having another woman renewed his original enthusiasm and made him more aware of the simple charms that had first attracted him to her. So there was something to be said for musical beds, after all. No harm had been done and, in a way, all three of them had benefited from it.

  But of course it took him forever to come again, even reinspired. Maria, bless her, took his prolonged effort for passion and was inspired to have repeated orgasms, which at least inspired him to keep going. He was tempted to fake it and call it a night. But he knew he’d probably never see Maria again and his old organ grinder would never forgive him if he abandoned ship after all this work. He raised himself on locked elbows again to stare down at himself as he slid in and out of her. Maria was writhing her hips from side to side and rolling her dark head back and forth across the pillow like a woman possessed, which she was, in a way. He was possessing her completely, but, damn, it sure was starting to seem more like work than pleasure He didn’t know how long he could keep it up. He decided to count to a hundred and quit, win place or draw. He knew he could thrust that many times, at least. But the sonofabitch was starting to go soft in her and he hadn’t come once in her yet!

  He got to thirty-seven when Maria stiffened in another orgasm, went limp, and gasped, “Have mercy, querido! I can’t take any more! You have me so excited I can’t stand it!”

  By now he’d counted seventy-eight, and, what the hell, she’d asked him to stop. So what was he trying to prove? He gritted his teeth and went for an even hundred. As he got to ninety-five, Maria gasped in awe and groaned, “Maria, José y Jesus! It is happening again! Don’t you Anglos know the meaning of enough?”

  That reminded him again of Claudette, who qualified as Anglo down here, and so, between wanting to make sure Maria made it again, and remembering how different it had looked sliding in and out of the bigger white girl, Captain Gringo decided, what the hell, a hundred and fifty wouldn’t kill him.

  He didn’t make it. As Maria wrapped her arms and legs around him again to hug him tightly against and in her, he suddenly, to his own surprise, exploded feebly in her. She crooned, “Oh, I felt that. It was so tightly pressed against the bottom when it spurted! But please don’t do it again, Deek. You did not give me a chance to tell you. But I can’t stay the night.”

  “Oh? What’s wrong? Are you getting married in the morning?”

  She started to cry. He kissed her and said, “Hey, I was just kidding.”

  “If only you were, Deek,” she sighed, holding him tighter as she added, “If I tell you how wicked I have been, you will be most angry. But if I do not tell you, you will be so hurt, and I love you so much, my querido!”

  He rolled off, fumbled a smoke from his shirt, and cuddled her head against his spare shoulder as he thumbed a match alight and lit his claro. He waited for her to get whatever was troubling her off her chest.

  Her chest looked pretty good as Maria pulled away from him and sat up, naked, to start repinning her hair. He blew a thoughtful smoke ring. She looked away and said, “I had to come here, even knowing only wicked girls come to hotel rooms, when Gaston told me you’d be leaving. I was not going to tell you until this weekend, but Gaston says you may not be here.”

 
“Okay, doll, so tell me now.”

  “I can’t see you anymore, Deek. Today I got a letter from the prison. I was not expecting it to happen so soon. For so long I waited to get such a letter. But it never came, and then I met you, and, oh, Deek, I am so confused!”

  He blew another smoke ring and said, “That makes two of us. Who’s been in prison, Maria, some friend you’re fond of?”

  “Worse. It is my husband they had locked up these last three years. They said they were going to keep him in prison for five, but now they say they are letting him out early for good behavior, and, oh, querido, what are we to do?”

  He smiled up at her wistfully and said, “Behave ourselves, I guess. If he’s getting out next week, he’ll sure as hell be expecting you to be waiting for him, right?”

  “Yes, my querido. For a long time, when they took him away, I waited most faithfully for him. I think I may still love him. I know I loved him when they took him away. But now I love you, too. Do you think I am a wicked fickle-hearted puta?”

  He reached out a hand to lay it on her thigh as he shook his head and said, “I think you’re a human being, Maria. Three years is a long time.”

  “Oh, madre mia, that is all too true! I did not wish to fall in love with you, Deek. I only wished to—”

  “Hey,” he cut in, “don’t punish yourself for having natural feelings, Maria. You’re not a nun and God knows I’ve never acted like a priest. You don’t have to explain to me.”

  She turned to stare down at him, her doe eyes filled with childlike wonder, and asked, “Don’t you feel like beating me, even a little bit, Deek?”

  He said, “No. I’ll settle for a goodbye kiss, querida”

  “Do you think we should, now that you know I am married?”

  “Well, maybe you’re right. At times like these we just have to rise above our natural feelings, right?”

  *

  Claudette was naked, too, when Captain Gringo woke her at four o’clock. She smiled up at him sleepily and asked, “What are you doing back here, darling? Didn’t I give you enough loving for one night?”

  He said, “No, but I’ll survive. Get dressed, pronto. We’re meeting Gaston and hopefully three burros. I’ll explain it to you along the way.”

  He moved to the window as she sat up, stretching sensuously before asking what time it was. He said, “It’s four in the morning and getting later by the second. Nobody tailed me from my place. I scouted the surrounding streets before slipping in here. As of now, nobody’s down there holding up a lamp post with his Secret Service back. But time’s a wasting, honey.”

  She yawned, shook her head to clear it, then put a thoughtful hand between her thighs and said, “Hmm, I’m still hungry down here. Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie to wake me up, darling?”

  “Later. We have to get out of town before anything or anybody else wakes up. Can you fit all your things in this big carpetbag, Claudette?”

  “All the things I have to take with me. The rest can stay here till I get back. Can’t we just do it one teeny weeny little time, darling? I don’t know what you did to me before, but you seem to have created a monster.”

  “I noticed. I hope we haven’t given each other a rash. Jesus Christ, you’ve taken your corset off?”

  “Of course. You just noticed? I stripped completely after getting back from the telegrafo. How was I to know a sex-mad burglar would awaken me before dawn?”

  She rose from the bed, long-limbed and silvery in the moonlight now that the street lamps had been snuffed out for the night. She picked up her corset, wrapped it about her waist, and turned her back to him as she braced herself against the washstand, saying, “You’ll have to lace me up, lover. I’m too fumble-fingered at this ungodly hour.”

  He moved over and took the laces in hand to cinch her up as she bent over the washstand with her naked derriere to him, saying, “Tighter. There’s no point to wearing the silly thing if it’s loose as that!”

  He pulled hard as she gripped the washstand with her hands. He got the corset tighter, but wound up with her bare butt against his pants.

  She murmured, “Ooh, I can feel your dingdong through those thin tropical pants. Do it, Dick! Just whip it out and slip it in while you lace me up tighter!”

  He had no intention of doing any such thing. But as he braced her bare buttocks against him to lace her right, Claudette reached back with one hand to fumble with his fly.

  He said, “Cut that out,” and she said, “Oh, I have it out. But it’s soft, the poor thing. Don’t you like me anymore, Dick?”

  He laughed and went on cinching her as she tried to get it in. It felt mighty interesting, but he knew she couldn’t as long as it stayed limp. Then, as she somehow worked the head into her soft wet opening, he swore in mingled impatience and disbelief. The sonofabitch was starting to rise to the occasion again! But they didn’t have time, and he knew he didn’t have the lead in his pencil if there had been time. But as she arched her back and leaned back to swallow him deeper, he decided, what the hell, it didn’t hurt. So he said, “Keep dressing. I’ve got you cinched. Here’s your shift. Slip it on over your head, dammit.”

  “I’ve never heard of getting dressed to fuck, Dick.” She giggled. But she seemed to enjoy the novelty as she started hauling on her things, bent over the stand with his shaft in her from behind. Her skirt had to stay up, of course. But by the time he had her bodice buttoned up the back, he was starting to enjoy the game too. So they got her shoes and stockings, then dropped to the floor on their knees, and, using a little ingenuity to keep it in, Claudette gartered her stockings and buttoned her shoes while he humped her. She came, or said she did. He couldn’t. Not that way. But when he sat on the bed and told her to put her damned knickers on, Claudette did so while kneeling on the floor before him, squirming into her underwear as she finished him off with her mouth. And any man who couldn’t come with Claudette blowing his whistle just wasn’t alive enough to matter.

  She laughed and wiped her lips off with a corner of the sheet as he recovered enough to groan, “I’ll get you for that! But let’s cut the bull and get out of here now. We’ve got some walking to do, if I’m still able to walk, you crazy bitch!”

  He was able to walk, but just, as he led her down the back steps. The Winchester felt like it weighed as much as a field gun, and the loose ammo in his jacket tended to make him list to port. But as they went to meet Gaston he noticed that Claudette was still firm of foot and didn’t seem to mind toting his valise as well as her own carpetbag. He’d expected her to bitch when he told her he needed one free hand. But she said she felt peppy as hell, now that she was fully awake.

  Of course, she’d only screwed one person silly in the past twenty-four hours. He had to get out of San José before he was screwed to death. He felt weak as a kitten, which was only fair. Only a man in very good shape could have led her anywhere right now without at least a full twelve hours’ bed rest. Alone.

  She gazed up at the moon as she strode beside him, her high heels clicking on the flagstone paving. She said, “My, it’s almost bright as day. How far is this place where we’re meeting Gaston and the burros?”

  “Less than half a mile. Could you walk a little less like castanets, doll? Those heels echo for at least two blocks.”

  “I thought you said everyone would be sleeping at this hour, dear.”

  “I know what I said. Let’s try to leave them asleep as we pass, huh? What the hell have you got on those heels, metal taps?”

  “Of course. Leather heels wear out in no time on the rough paving they have down here. Is this any better? I’m trying to walk on the balls of my feet.”

  He didn’t answer as she went on click-clacking beside him. He couldn’t expect her to tiptoe ten or twelve blocks packing two bags They came to a corner and he stopped her while he scouted up and down the wider-than-average calle they had to cross. The street lamps were out, and nothing else seemed to be, either. He said, “Okay, we’re coming
to the Barrio Viejo, where half the dames go barefoot. I know the place Gaston’s waiting with the burros, if he hasn’t shacked up with one of those barefoot dames. So you’d better take those high-buttons off now, Claudette.”

  “Are you serious, Dick? I can’t walk in my stocking feet, dammit!”

  “Sure you can. It’s the dry season and the dirt streets ahead are soft and dusty. Take off your stockings, too, if you’re worried about stepping in horseshit.”

  She hesitated. He led her over to a door niche and sat her down on the high stone threshold, leaning the carbine against the stucco wall beside her as he said, “Come on. It’s getting later by the minute and we have to make some silent tracks. I’ll help you.”

  He dropped to one knee and began to unbutton one of her shoes as she giggled and said, “You look like you’re about to go down on me.”

  He growled, “Jesus, don’t you ever think of anything else?”

  She gasped, “Dick! Look out!”

  And then the roof fell in on him!

  There were two of them, as far as he could tell when they flattened him on the pavement in front of the seated girl. Where they’d come from and who they were was less important at the moment than the fact that they had him on the bottom and would have been hurting him even more if they hadn’t gotten in each other’s way as they both tried to beat him up at once!

  His shoulder rig was under all three of them as he tried in vain to reach across his chest, pressed to the pavement while some sonofabitch had him by the hair and was trying to flatten his face by pounding it on the ground. A fortunately bare foot slammed into his ribs as he realized there were at least three of the bastards, and what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

  Then the pressure eased, just enough, when Claudette sprang up, silent as a mouser, to swing her heavy carpetbag with all her might against the head of the nearest attacker! It rolled him half off Captain Gringo. It was just enough to allow the big Yank to roll on his left shoulder and get at his gun. The guy who’d been kicking him went for Claudette as she braced her back against the door behind her, trying to fend him off with the bags in both hands. Captain Gringo rolled over farther, back-handing the guy atop his upper body across the face with his gun barrel.