Читать книгу The Sheriff - Nan Ryan - Страница 7

In a candlelit hotel room on San Francisco’s rowdy Barbary Coast, a handsome man lay on his back upon the bed.

He was naked.

So was the woman astride him.

The pair were making hot, eager love.

They had been at each other from the minute they rushed into the room, locked the door and hurriedly began stripping off their clothes.

Now the lusty pair moved together in a frenzied mating. The voluptuous woman’s heavy breasts bounced and swayed with her rapid movements. She gripped the man’s ribs and murmured his name repeatedly.

A blue officer’s campaign cap bobbed atop the woman’s head. A captain’s uniform was draped over a bedpost.

And atop the bureau, a pair of golden spurs gleamed on freshly polished black boots.

In minutes, the pair climaxed.

Immediately after the loving, the man anxiously asked, “Did he die?”

“Yes,” the woman replied breathlessly, doffing the campaign hat and brushing back her long dark hair to reveal a blue trinity tattoo on the side of her neck.

He nodded. “Did you get the assay?”

“Yes, I did,” she confirmed.

“Did the doctor or nurse see you?”

“No one saw me,” she assured and leaned down to kiss his doubts away. On the Embarcadero below, drunken miners shouted and fired their guns in the air.