Cheyenne Caress by Georgina Gentry

Author:Georgina Gentry [Gentry, Georgina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781420138269
Amazon: B00KTIGOM6
Barnesnoble: B00KTIGOM6
Goodreads: 22538980
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 1990-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Johnny Ace couldn’t sleep. He lay staring at the ceiling, stripped as usual to his loincloth. But on a hot night like tonight, it didn’t help much.

He thought about the meeting in Pani Le-shar’s office two days ago. Why hadn’t North let Johnny be one of the ones going to Denver? Did his beloved commander no longer trust him? North had made it plain that he might suspect Luci of leaking information, which was ridiculous. Or was it? Did North fear that Johnny, bedazzled by Luci, might leak to her what little he knew of the Fifth’s plans?

Johnny had gone on a couple of scouting trips since those three had left for Denver, but he didn’t find anything the cavalry didn’t already know. The Cheyenne Dog Soldiers were roaming the whole of Kansas and Nebraska, and when the Fifth hit the campaign trail again, there were going to be a lot of women wailing in empty lodges and tipis, a lot of blood watering the buffalo grass.

The Pawnee scouts thirsted for revenge because of all the killings by the more numerous Cheyenne. And the Dog Soldiers would rather die fighting than be forced back onto reservations. He couldn’t blame them.

Cheyenne. Luci. He felt a strong stirring in his groin as he always did at the thought of her. Restlessly, he rolled over on his belly, ground his hard tool against the cot, and imaged her spread beneath him, her body and her soft lips open to him, wanting him, too.

He swore in sheer frustration. What the hell had she been doing out picnicking with Osgoode? What was it that officer had hinted at? Johnny hadn’t seen much of her since that fight. She seemed to be avoiding him. Was she afraid he might ask questions she didn’t want to answer?

He rolled back over, clasping his hands behind his head. His manhood was still hot and swollen big under the skimpy loincloth. When she had let him make love to her, had it been because she cared for him, because she’d wanted him, too? Or had she been trying to wheedle information out of him? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember whether he might have told her anything important. In her arms, all he could think of was her Cheyenne caress, her pliant body as he entered her, the hot warmth of her open mouth accepting his tongue.

Damn! He had to know! Getting out of bed, he slipped into his blue cavalry pants and moccasins, and padded quiet as a cat to the trading post. Cautiously, he threw a small pebble against her window, then another.

Her small face appeared at the glass. He gestured in the moonlight for her to come out. Her expression told him she might not. He gestured again. She hesitated, then disappeared. In a couple of minutes, she stood before him with only a thin wrapper pulled over her sheer night dress. “What is it you want, Pawnee?”

You, he thought, feeling his manhood throb, his groin ache.

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