Gage Chandler stood stock still, willing himself not to move, not even when a scorpion scurried across his boot and skittered off to escape the noonday sun. Overhead, vultures rode updrafts of air, searching for signs of any creature succumbing to the oppressive Arizona heat. The big birds gave Gage the creeps, not that they could detect him. In his gray hat and gray duster, he looked like part of the boulder he leaned against.
He turned his eyes back toward the shack he’d been watching since dawn. He was starting his second long hour in the sun, but he’d been patient for three weeks as he’d tracked the notorious Billy James here from Texas. He could be patient a few more hours if that’s what it took.
He took another swig from the canteen, careful not to drink too much. He had to conserve his water; the day was only going to get hotter, and who knew how long before—or if—Billy would emerge.
A flash of movement caught Gage’s attention. He drew his gun and tipped his hat back just enough to stare at the window. He had to be sure; he couldn’t be rash, not after all this time.
There. There it was again. The slight form moved from one side to another. Gage’s mouth quirked into a grim smile. That was Billy all right. He’d know that self-assured stride anywhere. Gage dropped one hand to his side, clenching and unclenching his fist. When he got a hold of that little thief… he willed himself to calm down.
Use your head, Gage. Lose it and you’ll be the one on the run.
He heard the sound of a slamming door and couldn’t believe his luck. Billy had emerged, and was at the pump. Gage peeked at the slim form as the fugitive’s slender arms worked to pump water into a bucket. Billy stopped and looked around, eyes scanning the surrounding land. Gage closed his, praying he’d not be seen. A moment later he heard the door slam. Billy was back inside.
It was now or never. Gage sprinted toward the house, keeping low along the nearby fence and trough. He knew what he was about to do was incredibly risky, maybe even by his own standards. But he was counting on the element of surprise, of taking Billy unaware and unarmed.
His instincts were correct. His shoulder met the door, cracking the frame, and he burst into the room to see Billy gaping wide-eyed at the explosive intrusion. The thief lunged for the gun on the table, but Gage’s strong arms stopped the effort; he easily lifted the fugitive off the floor.
“Put me down, you no-good, whore-mongering, shit-eating son-of-a-bitch!”
“Calm down, Billy! It’s over! You’re done!”
It was like holding a wildcat. Billy kicked and squirmed with a strength that surprised Gage. But the outlaw proved no match for a 6′2″ bounty hunter fueled by more anger than he’d ever had for any one target.
“It’s not done, you arrogant, cock-sucking horse’s ass!” A boot heel connected with Gage’s leg, and he grunted in pain. “I’m going to kill you, you worthless low-life bastard!”
“Kill me? With what?”
Gage pushed Billy around and up against the wall. Pinned there, his captive could do little more than squirm and curse.
“Maybe I should check you for weapons. Lord knows what you might be hiding.”
“No! Don’t you dare!”
“You’re not in much of a position to tell me what to do, you little devil!”
When Billy let forth another string of invective, Gage’s hand connected—hard—on the small firm ass with one hand and was rewarded with a satisfying yelp of pain.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now I’m going to frisk you. So stand still.”
Billy continued to squirm, but Gage ignored the wriggling and the protests. His hands roamed the thin body, first over the clothes and then underneath as he pressed his front against the slim back. The life of a fugitive had kept Billy in shape. Gage’s hand roamed the flat stomach and then moved higher to the small but firm breasts.
“Fucking asshole!” Billy cried.
“Maybe I should,” Gage said, pushing his pelvis against the small, pert bottom.
“Maybe you should what?”
“Maybe I should fuck your asshole.” He spun Billy around, smirking as he looked into her furious eyes. “It’s not like it would be the first time. And as I recall, the last time I did it, you moaned like a whore.”
“Go to hell, Gage Chandler,” she said.
“Still got a mouth on you, I see,” he said, and pulled Billy over to the table as she stumbled, trying to keep her footing.
She cursed him as he bent her over. The button on the front of her pants popped and clattered to the floor as he ripped them open. Billy cried out in frustration as Gage jerked her trousers halfway down. He stared for a moment, his breathing raspy. Her toned, tight ass was as pert as ever. Gage raised his booted foot and stomped the fabric between her knees all the way to the floor, then bodily lifted her free from where the trousers puddled at her feet. He kicked the pants out of the way.
“Goddamn, lousy son-of-a-lice-ridden whore. Don’t you dare! Don’t you…”
The force of being pushed roughly back over the table silenced her words, and the next sound Billy made was a moan when Gage pushed her legs apart. She fought him, but Gage knew it wasn’t because she was protecting her virtue, but her pride. She didn’t want him to slide his fingers between her thighs and find the wetness that was practically pulsing from her pussy.
“Some things never change,” he said as he slid his fingers down her slit.
Gage stood to his full height, drew back a calloused hand, and slapped her ass, hard. The pale skin bloomed with the imprint of his palm and she howled, the sound high and keening.
That was more like it, Gage thought. And he knew that despite the cries she emitted as he smacked her a second and third time that Billy wanted this, needed this. She needed him to punish and fuck her until her legs were wobbly and her tight little cunt was as sore as her spanked ass.
She was mewling from the pain of the spanking when he finally released his cock, pulling on its throbbing length for a moment before guiding the head to the slick folds of her pussy. Billy cried out and arched her back, and when she did Gage laughed low in his throat.
“Now that’s the Billy I know,” he said. “That’s my bad girl. You’re so hot, I can feel it without going in. I can smell how excited you are.” He grazed her engorged folds with the tip of his cock.
“Are you going to talk or fuck me?” she asked through gritted teeth.
It was a definitive improvement from her telling him to fuck himself, and for a moment, Gage considered shoving his cock in her ass, just to show her that he could. But he wanted her pussy too bad, and sunk himself to the hilt.
She was small, not quite 5′1″ and it had been awhile. He knew the sudden assault hurt, but the pulsing of her pussy as she milked his rod told him that her pleasure was overriding the discomfort. He grabbed her hips and began to thrust into her, looking down at the back of her head. Her hat had fallen off and the blond curls she’d bound up spilled down around her tear-streaked face.
“Oh… god… oh… god damn you to hell, Gage Chandler.” But she was building to another orgasm, and he couldn’t bother to respond from all the concentration it took him to stave off his own until she’d reached that second peak. Then, only then, did he let go, releasing a flood of hot cum into her hungry core.
He collapsed on her, lying there until he realized his weight was too much for her small frame. He stood, reluctantly, letting his softening cock slip from her slick passage.
“All right,” he said. “Fun’s over. Now to get you back to where we can straighten you out once and for all.”
She was in his custody, for now. But Gage knew this was just the start. Now he had to get her back to Texas. That, he decided, was going to be the tricky part.