Trish pursed her lips. "If I have a choice, I'd rather stay home and get stoned out of my gourd." She waited for him to coax her. He didn't. She stood up and walked across the room, breasts bouncing with every step. She kissed him on the lips and said, "Don't look so disappointed. You know how I feel about Lone Pine and all the rubes who live there. If you're hungry for company, why don't you take Elke with you? She hasn't been in town in nearly a week."
He thought it over. "You wouldn't mind."
"Why should I?"
Bruce watched her closely. "I might try to seduce her."
Trish reached down and flicked a finger against his flaccid cock. "Go ahead. Elke might wear you down, but she'll never wear you out."
Bruce laughed and walked out of the bedroom. Trish returned to her champagne and waited for him to depart. Time dragged. She was working toward the bottom of her third glass and flirting with impatience when she heard the Mazda's rotary engine come to life. She crossed over to the window and watched Bruce drive off down the lane. The rear window was too dusty for her to see inside the car, but she felt positive that Elke Lockridge was riding with him. She put the tips of her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss.
"Adios, cowboy," she whispered. "Don't think that knowing you hasn't been fun… because it hasn't."
She turned away from the window, breasts rising and falling, picked up her bottle of champagne and carried it into the kitchen. She found Gabe waiting for her. He looked up from the can of Lucky Lager he was sucking on and said, "Christ, don't you ever dress when you're in this house?"
Trish sat down across from him and made a sour face. "Who has time to slip into something when she's busy getting something slipped into her?"
"A farewell orgy?"
"I hope so." She poured herself another drink and glanced around the kitchen. She saw a pan of biscuits ready for the oven and frowned. "Where the hell is Mrs. Singing Rabbit?"
Gabe paused with the beer can near his mouth, "On her way to town with Bruce. She asked for the day off. A break for us."
"Elke?"
"She went with them. We've got the whole place to ourselves. What say you fix something to eat, and then we'll cut out for the valley."
Trish stood up. "Give me a few minutes to dress and I'll be right with you." She trotted out of the kitchen.
"Make it snappy," Gabe called after her. "We don't want that money to get sunburned."
Trish returned in a few minutes, dressed for a jaunt in the boondocks. She was wearing a mannish shirt and tapered slacks tucked into black walking boots, but she sure as shit didn't look sexless. The shirt hugged her curves and accentuated the ripeness of her breasts, almost to the point of being obscene, and the slacks fit over her hips and thighs and haunches like a second layer of skin. She reeked of sensuality, and Gabe again realized he was in the presence of what some liked to call one hell of a hunk of table meat.
Trish went about the chore of preparing breakfast. Gabe watched her slacks tighten across her shapely derriere as she bent forward to slip the pan of biscuits into the oven, and saw the outline of her panties through the material. His cock hardened as he stared at her dimpled buttocks, but a moment later he thought about the bag of goodies they might find today and his erection wilted.
Another ten minutes passed before Trish placed breakfast on the table and sat down to join him, then asked, "Where are we going to start looking first today, chum?"
"In that tree Hank crashed through on his way down," Gabe replied as he helped himself to some eggs and bacon. "I have a hunch the sack is there."
"Why don't we shake a leg and find out?"
Gabe grinned at her impatience. "Relax, puss. It's kept a little over two months; another hour or so won't hurt it. Let me finish my chow first."
"And Joe Dooley? Are we going to feed him?"
"No way. Let him go hungry."
Trish frowned. "Why? What's the point in making the guy starve? Just because he decked you?"
"Never mind why," Gabe growled. "Just stop worrying about the sorry bastard, will you?"
Trish shrugged and reached for her bottle of bubbly. "Whatever you say, lover. You're the boss."
Boss? she snickered inwardly. Yeah, a screwed one.
Chapter 13
Half an hour later found Trish and Gabe in Lonesome Valley, picking their way along the narrow deer trail in silence. Gabe was bringing up the rear. Once Trish stopped, and when he came up against her, she reached back and gave his limp cock a quick squeeze, then said, "If we hit the jackpot today, I'm going to use that canvas sack for a pillow while you throw a wild fuck into me. Are you with me?"
"All the way, puss. Just keep your hand off my dong so it doesn't turn into a premature orgy. Move it." Trish laughed and stepped out again. They reached the ponderosa tree a few minutes later. She looked up. The branches were lush, causing her to comment, "I can't see a damn thing."
"You aren't by your lonesome. I'll have to climb up for a look."
Trish lit a cigarette as she watched Gabe go up the tree trunk, then vanish into the branches. He was out of sight, but not out of mind. Neither was the money.
Breasts trembled in tune to her ragged breathing as her mind begged, Be there!
She hunkered down on the deadfall that no longer bore traces of Hank's flesh and blood, broke the seal on the bottle of cheap champagne she had brought along, waited. It seemed as though forever passed twice before she heard Gabe yell, "It's here! We're rich, we're rich!"
"Correction," Trish murmured, "I'm rich. You gave me one dumping too many, and now I'm going to make you pay through the nose for doing same. No half a loaf of bread for this kid. I want the whole thing. And I know how to get it. I'll fuck you out of your share."
Gabe dropped to the ground with the bag of loot. He laughed at the greed glittering in her eyes and said, "Here's your pillow, puss. Want me to open it up and show you the stuffing?"
"Later," Trish purred as she walked up to him. "I'd cream in my jeans if I saw that beautiful money. Let's have a little fun first, and then we'll trip to the cabin and make with the split."
Gabe's cock proceeded to stretch and harden behind his pants. "I'm with you, puss. I've never banged a chick whose head rested on a pillow made of money. It should be one fucking we'll both remember for the rest of our lives."
You will, Trish thought malevolently. You sure as hell will.
Gabe dropped the money bag to the ground and held out his arms. "Come here, puss. I've got something for you."
Trish glanced at the bulge in his crotch and licked her lips. "So I notice. Big bastard, isn't it?"
"You said a mouthful."
Trish laughed and slipped her arms around his neck. She insinuated the length of her sensuous body against his to let him know the firm pressure of her breasts, the contour of her cunt mound. Thinking about the royal shafting she would give this sadistic bastard a bit later created a strange heat in her loins, causing her to rub her pussy against his tumid flesh and pant, "Turn me on all the way, lover. Give me some tongue."
Gabe covered her mouth with his own. Her eyes closed, her lips parted. She felt something slipping away from her as his tongue darted between her teeth and explored the secret sweetness of her mouth, but for the moment she didn't care. She moaned and strained her body harder against him, and his own hands dropped to grip her haunches, as if by this gesture he could suck her all the way inside himself.
Trish massaged his cock through the pants that covered it.
Gabe continued to French her until the torment in her loins became unbearable.
"The moss," she murmured throatily against his lips. "Let's stretch out on the moss over by that tree and do our thing, lover."