Part 16 (1/2)

And Krysty's own s.e.xual appet.i.tes were even greater than his own.

”Close call, us being able to find an eye doc with lenses for J.B.” Ryan said. ”Can think of a thousand other places where we'd been up the creek, him breaking his gla.s.ses like that.”

”I know.”

”A man with poor eyesight doesn't have much of a chance when he's trying to stay alive in Deathlands. Get himself and the ones around him chilled in a triple hurry.”

”We dealt with it as it came down, lover,” Krysty replied. ”Like we always have.”

”Trader would've cut J.B. loose to find his own way.”

”So what? As I've told you before, you're not Trader. You're better than he ever thought about being.”

”Am I? Am I really?” Ryan asked. ”In his own way, Trader was the most honorable man I ever met. Never did anybody wrong on a deal. Never traded some of the more deadlier stockpiles we found in those hideaways he was always so good at sniffing out. h.e.l.l, he could have earned enough jack to set up his own private little barony if he'd sold that supply of nerve gas we found.”

”I never said he wasn't a man with some honor hidden away in a dark corner somewhere,” Krysty replied. ”I said you were his better, and nothing you say is going to change my mind about that, Ryan Cawdor.”

While speaking, Krysty began to examine Ryan's offered foot and calf carefully, lightly running her fingers along the body hair growing there while looking at his toes. To Ryan, the sensation was akin to having five feathers run gently up and down his weary six-foot-plus frame. The woman at his feet turned and placed the lifted leg on one side of her hips, allowing herself full, unenc.u.mbered access between Ryan's legs.

”I must be slipping,” she observed, staring at Ryan's crotch.

A timely fragment from Ryan's dream from the mat-trans jump popped into his mind. ”'Not a creature was stirring,'” he said.

Krysty gave a l.u.s.ty chuckle.

”Told you I was tired,” Ryan added.

”Bulls.h.i.+t, Ryan. I've never known you not to beup to satisfying our mutual s.e.xual desires. What you need is a more direct approach.” And on that statement, Krysty scooted back even farther, bending her head and allowing her full mane of red hair to obscure Ryan's view of what she was doing.

Not that he needed to have a picture drawn for him. His senses began to ignore his aches and pains from the sec-droid battle and devote their attentions to a new manner of bodily caress.

Krysty took him in her mouth, gently, softly lolling her tongue around and around the swelling corona of Ryan's rapidly extending manhood. He groaned. A gentle suction pulled at him as Krysty inhaled, while still keeping her tongue in rapid motion like a trapped hummingbird.

Such a move would raise an erection from a dead man, and even though he was beaten around the edges and his back had felt better and his shoulder hurt like a viper had bitten into it, Ryan was far from being deceased. Thanks to Krysty's ministrations, he was feeling more alive by the minute.

”I thought you were taking a bath,” Ryan breathed, his own carnal desires starting to fully awaken. There was no hiding his interest.

”Later, lover. After we're done,” Krysty said, her voice thickening as she stood and removed her outer s.h.i.+rt. She then playfully unsnapped her bra from the back, releasing the twin cones of flesh previously housed inside. ”You like the topless look?”

”Come here and I'll show you.”

Ryan allowed his eye to feast on the sight. He followed each indentation left in the sensitive skin where the straps of the bra had bitten into her voluptuous upper body. He wanted to trace each groove with his mouth and kiss away the reddish lines left in her pale flesh.

Krysty posed provocatively under his gaze.

”Why, Mr. Cawdor, I do believe you intend to take indecent liberties with me.”

”That's the plan.”

Krysty pouted, then strolled over, her boots gliding sinuously along the thick pile of the room's carpeting. She crossed her arms and placed her hands over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, hiding the pink tips of her jutting nipples, but allowing some of the large areolae to peep through her splayed fingers.

”Think you can handle both of these?” she asked, bending at the waist and using her hands to create a plunging cavern of cleavage.

”I prefer to take one at a time,” Ryan replied. ”Like this.”

He nuzzled her neck, working his way down to the tops of her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He flicked his tongue along one nipple while using his fingers to lightly stoke the other. Fast, then slow.

”Mmm,” Krysty breathed. ”You ambidextrous little devil, you.”

Ryan didn't respond. His mouth was busy with other, more-important tasks.

Krysty felt his hands at her waist, feeling around her belt and the snap of her pants. She was about to reach down and a.s.sist in their removal when Ryan was able to unlatch the buckle one-handed and flick the snap open in an easy, fluid motion. She squirmed out of the jeans and panties as he held on to their waistbands, pulling them down as she moved.

”I'm ready, lover,” she breathed, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes glowing a dusky green. ”From the looks of things, I think you're ready, too.”

And then she was on top of him, joining him as their lips and genitals met in a l.u.s.ty embrace of pa.s.sion that began as a slow, steady rhythm. Soon, however, the motion broke out into a whiplash ride of thrusting that brought them simultaneously to the peaks of paradise.

RYAN WAS AWAKENED from a gentle doze by a light knocking at the hotel door. Instantly his senses came to full attention. Trouble normally didn't come with a knock, but one never could be too careful. ”You order room service?” he asked Krysty.

”No, but that's not a bad idea,” she said drowsily. ”Breakfast in bed.”

”Still night,” Ryan said, glancing at his wrist chron. ”Not even eleven yet.”

The big man reluctantly untangled his arms from around Krysty's sumptuous body, his bad shoulder drawing a wince across his face. He stood up carefully, pulling the covers over her splendid nudity.

”Who is it?” he called while picking up his SIG-Sauer from the nightstand. Ryan crouched at the base of the door and c.o.c.ked the handblaster, waiting for whoever might answer.

”Me, Dad. Sorry to bother you.”

Ryan relaxed and stood up. ”Just a sec, Dean,” he said. Ryan looked around the room, spotting and inventorying his s.h.i.+rt, coat, boots, then remembered he left his well-traveled trousers in the tiny hotel bathroom. ”Let me pull on some pants.”

Once he was partially clothed, Ryan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. ”Hey, Dean. Jak,” he said in greeting to the pair. ”I'd let you in, but Krysty's sleeping.”

”Okay, Ryan,” the albino said. ”Come by too late? Wake up?”

”Nah, I was just resting. Been a triple-long day. What's going on?”

”Well, Jak and me are bored listening to Doc. He's started going off on something about the crazy-a.s.s theories of some Dutch guy named Von Daniken and how we were all put here by aliens from another planet and he just won't shut up about it,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

”Yeah, I've been on the receiving end of Doc's lectures before,” Ryan replied sympathetically. ”He'll fall asleep soon enough once he gets tired of listening to himself ramble on.”

”Until then, we wanted to go out and see the mall. Get away from him until he talks himself out or something,” Dean continued.

”Got a destination in mind?” Ryan asked.

”There's a place for guys our age in here, Dad. Called a vid arcade. Supposed to have games and stuff. All kidsno oldies allowed.”