cb.coldheart canyon-第50节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
His dick had lost none of its rigidity through this fumbling pursuit； the fact that the air was humid and pungent with the heat given off these spirit…forms only aroused him more。 Katya had prepared him well； with her talk of shamelessness。 He wanted the girl； and she wanted him： what else mattered？
He put the head of his cock into her。 She lifted her legs a little； to help him。 There was undoubtedly somebody else beneath her； but he or she didn't seem to care that he was kneeling on them。
〃All the way；〃 she insisted。
He slid into her； as she instructed； all the way to the root； and began to work his hips against her。
Her cunt was as agile as her throat； he felt a counter…rhythm moving beneath his dick； passing through the lower half of her vulva。 The sensation was like nothing he'd ever experienced before； after just a few strokes he was brought to the edge。 He slowly pulled out of her； to be sure he didn't ejaculate too quickly。
〃You like that？〃 she said； putting her hand down between her legs； and guiding him back in。
〃Yes。 I like it a lot。〃
〃Good。〃
〃But go slowly。 Please。〃
He let her take him inside again and she threw back her head； expelling a sigh of satisfaction。
〃Go on。〃 she said； her eyes fluttering closed。 〃All the way。 Both of you。〃
Both？ he thought； raising his head from her breast。
And as he formed the question he felt an arm； twice； three times as thick as hers； and deeply muscled； reach over and grab his neck。
He lifted his head as best he could； and saw the face of a man over the girl's shoulder。 She was apparently lying on him； her back against his chest。 He was black； and handsome； even in the shadows。
〃She's good；〃 he said； smiling。 〃Yeah？〃
Tentatively Todd reached down into the moist muddle between their legs。 He felt himself； hard as ever； and then； further back； buried in the girl's ass； the other man's dick。 So that was what he had been feeling as he moved inside her。 It wasn't a muscular contraction； it was the black man sliding in and out of her。 In any other situation he would have been repulsed； would have pulled out and retreated。 But this was the Canyon； Katya's Eden without the serpent。 The part of him that would have been revolted had been sweated out of him。 It only made him harder thinking about the woman being sandwiched between him and the other man； the fine sheath of her muscle dividing the two of them。 He brought his hand up from the swamp between their legs and grabbed hold of the black man's wrist； tightening the three…way knot。
The man laughed。
〃You like that？〃 he said。
〃I like that。〃
〃Good；〃 he said； licking the girl's neck； but keeping his eyes fixed hungrily on Todd。 〃'Cause we like to get real crazy。〃
Todd had found the rhythm of this now； and together they played her until she started to scream with ecstasy。
Somewhere in the midst of this； the girl Katya was pleasuring began to utter gut…wrenching cries。 A little time later Katya must have had mercy on her； and allowed her to be carried off； because when Todd was next getting close to ing （for the fifth or sixth time） he looked away from the blissed…out faces beneath him； and saw Katya sitting amongst the jasmine and the honeysuckle； with a young man lying naked at her feet； covering them with reverential kisses。
She was watching Todd； her expression inscrutable。 Somebody lit a cigarette for her。 Todd smiled at her； and then…before she could choose either to return the smile or ignore it…he fell back into the bliss of his ménage…à…trois； thinking that if this was what sex with the dead was like； then the living had a lot to learn。
FIVE
Tonight was one of those nights when Marco had decided to get drunk。 An 'honourable occupation'； as his father had always said。 He didn't like to drink in pany； in truth； he didn't much like pany。 People in this town were full of bullshit （his boss included； half the time） and Marco didn't want to hear it。 He'd e out to Los Angeles after his career in professional wrestling had e to a premature conclusion； half…thinking he might have a crack at acting。 Then someone had suggested that personal security might be a good job for a man like himself； since he not only looked intimidating； but had the moves to back up his appearance。 So Marco had joined an agency； and after working for a succession of spoiled…brat movie…stars who treated him as though he was something they'd just found on their shoe； he was ready to head for home。 Then； within days of his planned departure； the job with Todd Pickett had e along。
It turned out to be a perfect match。 He and Todd hit it off from the start。 They had the same taste in girls； cars and whisky； which was more or less the contents of Marco's fantasy world。
Tonight； he wanted a girl； and was tempted to go out； hit the clubs on the Strip； see if he got lucky。 If not there was always the credit card： he had no qualms about paying for sex。 It certainly beat the five…fingered widow。
But before he went out he always liked to get mellow with a whisky or two： it made him more sociable。 Besides； there was something strange about the house tonight； though he didn't know what。 Earlier on； he'd been tempted to go out and take a look around； just to be sure they didn't have any intruders； but by now the whisky had got him feeling too lazy to be bothered。 Fuck it； they should get another dog。 Dempsey had been a great early warning system。 As soon as anyone came anywhere near the house he'd go crazy。 Tomorrow； Marco thought as he headed down from his bedroom to get a fresh bottle of whisky； he'd talk to Todd again about buying a pup； using the security angle to get past Todd's loyalty to Dempsey。
He found the whisky； and poured himself a glass； taking it neat in one swallow。 Then he looked at his watch。 It was eleven…twenty。 He'd better get moving。 Los Angeles was an early town； he'd discovered； especially mid…week。 If he didn't hurry he'd be too late to catch any of the action。
He started back upstairs to fetch his wallet； but halfway up he heard a noise at the bottom of the stairwell。 It sounded like a door opening and closing。
〃Boss？〃 he yelled down。 〃Is that you？〃
There was no reply。 Just the door； continuing to open and close； though there was no wind tonight to catch it。
〃Huh；〃 he said to himself。 He went up； found his wallet； picked up his whisky glass from the kitchen on the way back down； and descended the stairs。
There were plenty of places around the house he hadn't explored： one of them was the very lowest level of the house； which Jerry had told him were just store…rooms。 Nor had he advised using them。 They were damp and anything put down there would be mildewed in a month； he said。
A few steps from the bottom of the stairs； Marco emptied his glass； and set it down。 He was now drunk； he realized as he stood upright。 Not paralytically； just nicely； pleasantly toasted。 Smiling a little smile of self…congratulation for having achieved this blissful state； he continued down。
It was cold here； in the bowels of the house。 But it wasn't the damp cold that Jerry had warned him about。 This was an almost…bracing cold： like a late autumn night in his home town of Chicago。 He went down the little corridor that led from the bottom of the stairs； at the end of which was the noisy door which had brought him down here。 What the hell was making it open and close that way？
He felt the answer on his face the closer he got to the door。 There was a wind blowing down here； unlikely as that seemed and it smelled not of small； mildewed rooms； but of wide green spaces。
For the second time in this journey； Marco said： 〃Huh。〃
He pushed open the door。 There was plete darkness on the other side； but it was a high； wide darkness； his gut told him； and the wind that gusted against him came…though this was beyond reason…across a stretch of open land。
He wished he hadn't drunk the whiskies now。 Wished he had his senses pletely under his control； so that he could assess this phenomenon clearly。
He put his hand around the corner of the door； looking for a light switch。 There wasn't one； or at least there wasn't one his fingers could find。 Never mind。 This would be a mystery for tomorrow。 For now he'd just close the door and go back to his drinking。
He reached in and caught hold of the doorhandle。 As he clasped it there was a flicker of light in the depths of the room。 No； not of light； of lightning： a fragmentary flicker which was followed by three much longer flashes； in such quick succession they were almost a single flash。
By it； he saw the space from which the wind came； and had his instincts confirmed。 Wide it was； and high。 The thunderhead which spat the lightning was miles away； across a landscape of forest and rock。
〃Oh； Jesus。〃 Marco said。
He reached out for the doorhandle； caught hold of it； and slammed the door closed。 There was a lock； but no key。 Still； it seemed firmly enough closed； at least until he'd found Todd； and shown him。
He started yelling Todd's name as he ran up the stairs； but there was no reply。 He went to the master bedroom； knocked； and entered。 The room was empty； the French doors to the balcony
