Chapter 10

Maggie pulled her robe around her and stepped out into the dark, drizzly night.

"Hello," Tyson said. "You're out late."

Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin. She gathered her wits and said, "How's Andrea?"

"Mary says she is still asleep. God, what a day! You ought not be prowling around at this time of night. I'll walk you back to the cottage."

"Is the sheriff gone?"

"For the time being. He'll be back."

"How's the investigation going?"

"I don't know. You know how the cops are. They badger the hell out of you, then don't tell you anything. They told me that I have to stay here," he said irritably. He took a couple quick puffs on his cigarette. "Damned inconvenient. I'm a broker, you know. I can't waste my time here. I have to get back to Atlanta and take care of business." He heard footsteps and looked around. "What are you doing, Bradford?"

"Going for a walk in the woods," Bradford said. "What are you doing?"

"I was just going to escort Miss Maggie back to the guest cottage," Tyson replied.

"Is she afraid of the famous tramp?" Bradford asked, then laughed unpleasantly.

He's been drinking, Maggie thought with a flicker of anxiety. Sober, he could be unpredictable. Drunk, he could be dangerous. Could she do anything with him? No, better leave him to Smithfield.

"The tramp," Bradford repeated raucously. "Don't be afraid of a tramp. A tramp didn't kill Duncan. And we all know it. You're safe enough, Maggie, unless you've got some evidence. Have you got any evidence, Maggie?" He took her elbow and shook it roughly. "She's the quiet kind, Tyson, who sees everything and says nothing. But, she's got evidence enough to hang us all. Evidence. That's what we need, Tyson, evidence."

"You're drunk, Bradford," Maggie said sternly. She shook off his hand. She looked at his white, tightly drawn face and suddenly felt sorry for him. "Go on, take your walk," she said more kindly. "Everything will be all right."

"Nothing will ever be the same again," Bradford said sadly. "Never the same. Do you know why, Maggie? Because Emma shot him. Yes, sir."

He's worse than I suspected, Maggie thought.

"Shut up, Bradford!" Tyson said. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Don't bother me, Tyson. I know what I'm saying. Emma makes me sick."

She didn't make you so sick that you couldn't fuck her in the garden last night, Maggie thought.

"Come on, Bradford." Tyson took Bradford's arm. "I'll take care of him, Maggie."

Maggie watched Tyson lead Bradford back into the house. Bradford's impulsiveness was rooted in his genes, and he couldn't do anything about it. The Howe men were brash, bold and iconoclastic.

Maggie looked back at the house. It seemed cold and deserted. She felt a sinister presence, as if the angel of death was hovering over the place, beating his dark wings, waiting to sweep down and claim another victim.

"Nonsense," she said aloud. "Nonsense. You're letting your imagination run away." Nonetheless, she ran the rest of the way to the guest cottage.

Tyson took Bradford back inside the house and turned him over to George with instructions to put him to bed. He waited until they disappeared up the stairs, then followed quietly. He stopped at the first door on the right and knocked lightly.

Emma opened the door and looked at him through eyes made bleary by too much alcohol. She wore only a thin robe, and it gaped open to reveal her nude body.

"What the hell do you want, Tyson?" she asked belligerently, slurring her words.

He eyed her nudity. He had done better. At the moment, he could do worse. "We have to talk," he said. "About Duncan's investments. I suppose you'll inherit his estate, and I need to know what you want me to do."

Emma hooked her hand in his belt. He pushed the door shut and let her drag him into the room.

"What I want you to do has nothing to do with money," she said. "You didn't come here to talk about Duncan's investments anyway."

"Oh?" He lifted one eyebrow. "Why did I come here?"

"To fuck me," she said simply. "Andrea's asleep and Maggie won't give you the time of day, so I'm the only one left. Unless you want to try your luck with Mary or Estelle. Or change your luck." She threw herself at him. Her arms flew around his neck and she squirmed against him.

"You are one crazy broad," he muttered.

"Uh huh, and I'm horny, too."

"I've been watching you. I think you're always horny." He put his arms around her and cupped her ass.

"That's why you're here."

She tilted her mouth up and he kissed her. Her mouth opened under his. The tip of his tongue played over her lips, caressing lightly, then slowly went into her mouth.

She murmured as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. She closed her lips and sucked on his tongue. He began to work it in and out of her mouth, simulating a fucking motion. She held his tongue lightly with her lips.

She could feel his cock pressing against her bare belly. Her hips moved forward spontaneously, thrusting her cunt mound at him. He held one cheek of her ass in each hand and pulled her closer. She moaned and sucked harder on his tongue. She opened her legs, captured the head of his prick between her thighs and began to dry fuck him.

He put one hand on her shoulder, pushed her chest back and began to knead her bare tit. Her eyes smoldered with lusty hunger. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue played over them. She looked like a wanton slut, and they both knew it.

"It feels so good when you play with my tits," she husked.

He chuckled. "Yeah, me and anybody else you think you have a chance of nailing."

Her eyes sparkled. Her thick, dusky-pink nipples stood fully erect. A flush covered her throat and chest. He squeezed both of her tits. Her sex flush spread and deepened. Her tit buds got so hard they almost hurt.

Emma rubbed her hand over the front of his pants, confirmed that his cock was already hard. She stepped up to him, opened her legs, and squirmed her cunt mound against his cock bulge. He fastened his mouth to her eager lips and her tongue uncoiled like a snake in his mouth. She shuddered and moaned.

He slipped a hand between her thighs and caressed her mossy cunt mound. She spread her legs wider. His fingers slithered into her drenched, sizzling slit.

She wound her arms around his neck and moaned louder. Two of his fingers snaked into her fiery hole. She whined and began to jerk her hips, fucking herself on his fingers.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed. "Open your legs," he said softly. "Show me your cunt."

She opened her legs leisurely, flirtatiously. Her wet snatch looked as if a heavy rainstorm had just passed over it. He undressed as he watched her.

"Wider," he said. "Show me some pink."

She spread her legs more. She could feel the lips of her cunt separate. Juice gushed from her hole and saturated the hair along her slit.

"Use your hands. Spread the lips."

She was entirely under his mastery, unable to resist even if she wanted to. She liked it when men played sexy games with her before they fucked her. Not many men knew how. Certainly not Duncan or Bradford. She got a big kick out of exhibiting her most intimate treasure in such a raunchy fashion-felt positively unrestrained and wanton as she complied with his demands. She used just the tips of her fingers to carefully pull the lips of her cunt as far apart as they would go.

He stared into the pink, hair-lined gash of juicy cunt flesh. His tongue hankered to delve into the inner sanctum she flaunted so lewdly to his greedy eyes. He licked his lips. His breathing became shallow.

"Play with your pussy. Show me how you jack off."

The game was getting better and better. His words seared her brain; made her obey willingly. She captured her clit between the middle and index fingers of her right hand. The middle and second fingers of her left hand stole into her humid groove. Both hands began to work. She hungered for a good cum; longed to get herself off. For herself. For him. For the whole fucking world!

She wiggled back and propped her shoulders against the headboard. She stared directly into his eyes as she pulled her legs up. She let her knees fall to the sides and put the soles of her feet together, assuming the most provocative pose she could imagine.

"You know how to get to a woman, don't you?" she whispered.

He arched one eyebrow and smiled without replying.