Disorder in the House [How the West Was Done 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (11 page)

Zeke regarded him with bloodshot, watery eyes. “Yes?”

“Can you do that, man? Can you keep an eye out for Miss Liberty here? Some danger was prophesized, something to do with cold water.”

Liberty added, “Maybe that Rusty Pipes is going to throw some cold water on me.”

Garrett continued trying to get through to Zeke. “Keep an eye on her, Zeke. Don’t let her work at the Cactus Club if you’re not there, can you do that?”

“What?” said Zeke absently. “Oh, sure, I can do that.”

But Garrett had a feeling the joker wouldn’t. Garrett shared a meaningful glance with Levi, and he knew both were thinking the same thing.

They couldn’t leave town to find Shady until the meaning of this cold water prophecy became evident.

Levi lay on his back in his rickety, uncomfortable bed, listening to Garrett frigging himself.

True, they were probably both riled up from their encounter the night before with the stunning and brazen Liberty Hudson. Levi had taken a chance when he had invited Garrett to participate in his demonstration of
The
Pleasure of Woman
. He hadn’t known if Liberty would be shocked or even refuse to see either one of them again. It was a risk that had, luckily, worked out.

He couldn’t have even predicted he was about to take that risk until it suddenly started happening. He was carried away, no doubt, by Liberty’s proximity. He wasn’t expecting to reenact the manuscript from India, but suddenly her violet essence overwhelmed him, and he found his fingertips on the back of her neck. When he’d kissed her, in just the way the manuscript recommended—profusely, without letting her touch him—it had just seemed natural to allow Garrett to reenact the next step of the instructions. In the short span of time he’d known Garrett, the army cook had already become the most trusted partner he’d ever had.

Garrett was standing right there, obviously aroused by the manuscript, and perhaps by Liberty’s presence as well. What healthy man wouldn’t be? Levi had seen the connection between those two, had sensed that she might be open-minded to Garrett’s touch, and—Hell, could Garrett possibly frig himself just a bit louder? His damned blanket was jerking away like a bucking bronco. Levi’s own cock was as stiff as a dinner plate. Of course, if he was hung like a bull like Garrett, he’d be stroking himself every minute of the day. Garrett was so well-hung that a few times he’d turned around he’d nearly brained Levi with his cock.

Levi’s hand lightly meandered over his erection, recalling Garrett’s part of the instructions. He’d been aware that Garrett was cheating—was hulking that massive erection into the cleft of Liberty’s ass, when that wasn’t even part of the Indian sex guide. And he’d said nothing when Garrett’s fingers had strayed beyond the required armpit and up the tender slope of Liberty’s buoyant breast, where Levi hadn’t even dared touch yet.

That was all right. He and Garrett were partners, and Liberty certainly wasn’t protesting. In fact, Levi was convinced that being crushed between two male bodies had heightened Liberty’s arousal. When he had started rubbing against her lap like a stag in heat, he was convinced she was about to climax. And she claimed women couldn’t climax from merely being kissed and toyed with! Levi, as her new bodyguard, vowed to redouble his efforts to prove to her that was a fallacy. He could tell by the moist, heated sheen to her eyes, the way her head lolled bonelessly on her neck, that she was about to reach crisis. It was just too bad he hadn’t been able to borrow any more of that manuscript before leaving Vancouver House.

“Ah!”
Garrett cried out, and the blanket stopped jerking. Thank God. Maybe now Levi could get some sleep.

But he couldn’t.

Not twenty seconds after Garrett’s pine bedstead stopped its annoying creaking, Levi tossed off his blanket and stumbled into the other room, his erection bobbing in midair. He supposed this room was the kitchen, parlor, and dining room all combined into one. Not much better than his rooms at the fort but with much less belching, cussing, and brawling going on.

No, Garrett was a quiet, well-mannered, clean fellow. Levi couldn’t very well ask him to stop wandering around in the buff when he was only doing it to bathe. Levi reflected that he was often forced to watch Garrett’s massively strapping shoulders when he bent over the washtub and poured a dipper of water over his head to squeak it clean like a seal’s. Sure, it was annoying to watch the play of pectoral muscles wetly flexing as Garrett paraded about looking for his towel. Garrett might have even been doing it on purpose, to display to Levi his superior animal agility like some kind of hulking Ethiopian god.

But what could Levi say? “Please get that long, brawny, plump cock out of my face before you give me a brain injury with it”? They were partners in all things, and it was ridiculous to get huffy over something so ridiculous.

“Ow.”
In the dark, Levi banged his shin against the table they had designated as a kitchen counter. He was just looking for his damned whiskey bottle, hoping it would help him sleep. He’d best light the lamp.

“Ooph.”
Levi ran right up against what normally he’d think was a wall. But it was Garrett—he knew from the heated creaminess of his chest against Levi’s and the plump brawn of his monstrous erection slapping Levi’s thigh. Apparently Garrett had
not
just ejaculated.

“I was just—” Levi started to say.

“—some water—”

They clutched each other’s biceps as they did a little dance that only served to smack their cocks against each other even harder, the loud slaps resounding in the almost silent room.

And before Levi knew it, he’d shoved Garrett up against the wooden counter, one of his knees between Garrett’s thighs to spread them, and Garrett’s monstrous donkey’s cock was in his fist.

It was a sudden, sensual attack that had no forethought. Instantly Garrett spread his thighs, gripping the counter’s edge to give Levi a better angle on his cock. There were no protestations of inappropriateness, no proclamations of indignity. No shoving or yelling. It was just one sudden fluid animal movement that had Garrett practically climbing up the counter, Levi’s thighs pinioned under his, lifting him. And the giant appendage of a dusky cock was in Levi’s fist.

His eyes were now becoming accustomed to the dark. In the light from the waning moon coming through the window, Garrett was even more statuesque and marvelous than his everyday self. Fully naked, he sprawled before Levi, wide open to whatever evil plan Levi had in store for him.

The strange thing was, Levi had no plan. He had grabbed Garrett’s stupendous prick without even thinking, as though it was something his subconscious mind—there had been a lot of talk about that lately—had done without his approval. Now Levi’s fist pumped the cock, velvety, long, and hot in his grip, and he heard himself saying, “This is what you get, you goddamned impudent buck, for taunting me for days.”

Garrett’s lanky frame shuddered as he perched on the edge of the counter. Levi saw him gulp air, his throat muscles powerful and gleaming. “I’ve been thinking about Liberty,” he gasped hoarsely.

Gripping the big cock at the base, Levi slapped it. The meaty sound of flesh on flesh aroused him even more. “You have the impudence to talk about Liberty,” he said, although he knew his tone would encourage Garrett to talk about her even more. “You were thinking about her beautiful tits. The ones you almost touched.”

“Yes,” gasped Garrett. He looked completely helpless, his giant prick in his partner’s hand, his nostrils flaring almost in fear. Yet he freely admitted, “She’s a beautiful woman, Levi. And we’re both hot for her. What will we do?”

Levi brought a fondling palm to the balls he’d been yearning to feel since being forced to watch Garrett sling them about so casually. It had been maddening watching Garrett stroll about, the beautiful globes of his ass swaying tantalizingly. That Levi had come in his own pants while humping the glorious Miss Hudson hadn’t satisfied his carnal appetite. Apparently, it had only increased it.

Levi had never dreamed he’d be stroking another man’s enormous donkey’s prick, much less enjoying it. It just suddenly felt right. It may have had something to do with what Zeke claimed was the sudden surge in “psychic vibrations” around town, but suddenly Levi discovered himself frantically pumping his partner’s colossal meat. He pumped it so eagerly the only sound in the room was the dry friction of the cock pistoning in his palm, and he slapped the swinging, full balls just to get satisfaction from the naughty sound.

“We’ll share,” he grunted. “It’s really up to her, isn’t it? She liked the instruction manual you found.”

“But you love her,” Garrett managed to gasp, his face contorted with what looked like pain. But Levi knew it was intense pleasure.

“Yes, I love her.” Levi paused for a split second to rotate his thumb about the bulbous cockhead, to smear about the glob of semen that had burst there. “But you love her, too.” He just assumed that, to see how Garrett would respond.

“Of course,” Garrett gasped. “Good god, you’re a fucking dog. Frig my cock, you bastard.” Garrett slapped a palm onto Levi’s bare shoulder to urge him on. His distended nipples were taut, and Levi bent at the knees to slurp a delicious, dark kernel into his mouth.

Dear God
, Levi felt nasty, sucking on another man’s nipple while pumping away at his shining, straining cock. But then, sex must be different between two men. Dirtier, nastier. Men could say dirty things to one another, could demand satisfaction, could drain each other’s pricks with no more ceremony than eating and bathing. Between men—Levi was finding out—there was no need or even the desire for pomp and niceties.

And hell, he wanted satisfaction, even if it was his partner’s. He’d been so inflamed ever since bumping into Liberty Hudson on the train. Yes, the psychic vibrations must be to blame. Garrett was the channel for the psychic vibrations, and by pumping this glorious horse’s cock he would drain the milky life from him.

Levi nibbled at the nubbin, just squeezing it gently between his teeth. Semen splashed Levi’s chest as he choked the pulsating member, joggling the cockhead with his thumb because he knew it would make Garrett twitch and jerk.

Levi liked this about men, he had just discovered. After years of exploring his own body, he already knew how to pleasure Garrett. Women were often frustrating, capricious creatures. Maybe Liberty was right. Maybe women couldn’t climax simply by kissing and toying.

Levi stood tall, still massaging the spurting cock as the semen dribbled over his wrist. He looked into Garrett’s beautifully outlined eyes as his partner’s chest heaved raggedly with the relief of orgasm. Levi felt no shame. He had just brought his friend off. Between men, there was no big deal.

“You think Liberty will want to share?” Garrett asked. His expressive, stirring eyes melted with emotion.

So Levi slapped the sensitive cock once more, to make his friend gasp and jump. Garrett shoved him away, and Levi chuckled. He knew that would be the response. “Sure,” he said, wandering off in the general direction of the table where the lamp was. “She seemed open to it when you started reading those instructions.”

“If not, let her choose. Right?” Confidence was seeping back into Garrett’s voice now that he’d climaxed.

Again, Levi knew that was the way of men. They were so much simpler and easier to read than women! “Right,” he said cheerfully. The growing lamplight illuminated his erection, casting an eerie yet humorous shadow against the wall, like a giant baby’s fist holding an apple. Levi grinned at the shadow and looked to Garrett, but his partner held up his hands in protest.

“I’m going back to sleep, after I drink some water.”

“You do that,” Levi agreed, uncorking his whiskey bottle. “But don’t you think it’d be advisable to get in touch with Paddy first? We need to find out what he meant about the cold water harming Liberty. We can’t go search for Shady until we know she’s safe.”

Garrett gulped his water and exhaled mightily. “Yes. And I doubt that fool Zeke will be of much help. But you know what? I think old Paddy can get ahold of me in other ways.”

“What do you mean?”

Already in the bedroom doorway, Garrett lifted a hand. “Good night.”

Levi shrugged. “Good night.”

* * * *

Garrett soared above the ramshackle town of Laramie City.

Although it was nighttime, he could make out every shack of log and canvas. He flew weightlessly past the Union Pacific depot, where at this time of night only a few straggling carousers stumbled about. Behind the Cactus Club, someone he assumed was Rusty Pipes tossed out a cauldron full of something steaming. And of course, though the sun was due to rise soon, at the Bucket of Blood the musicians still played. Garrett thought the banjo player sounded about to keel over in a dead faint.

He’d been soaring nightly for about a week now, and he knew it had to lead somewhere. There must be a reason he’d been flying about, watching Mr. and Mrs. Fowler fall out of their buggy in their furs and top hat, back from a dinner party at the mayor’s house. One night he’d attended a meeting of the Order of Oddfellows, where all the members put on a play wearing dresses with flowers in their hair. Or, worst of all, once he’d witnessed Henry Zuckerkorn, journalist for the
Frontier Index
, indulge his passion for spanking prostitutes dressed as schoolgirls.