The Daughter, C.B. Cooper [great reads .TXT] 📗

and then “Oh yeah, bourbon. That sounds just fine.”
She laughed huskily, “I’ll be right back.”
Sam watched her ass swaying provocatively in her tight dress as she walked away. He reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow as the guilt settled in.
Shameful, just shameful the way he was acting. He had barely just quit the clergy, and here he was, ready to bend that woman over the first table he could find, and rut his way to glory. He was acting like he hadn’t been laid in…ten years. Ten years! Had it really been that long? No wonder his dick was trying to jump out of his pants.
As a reverend, he could have easily taken a wife. Reverends were allowed to marry, but the truth was, church going women just didn’t get his juices flowing.
He had always been attracted to the soiled doves, well, the pretty ones anyways. He had also been with his fair share of ugly ones. But ugly wasn’t always that bad- if you drank enough first.
Sam’s head was spinning. He just couldn’t believe how easy and natural it was to slip back into his old ways. Here he thought he had rose above all of his transgressions, had gotten rid of them for good, when in reality, they had just been set off to the side all this time. You just can’t shake a lifetime of bad habits.
He was still waiting for his drink when Zeb walked in and found him.
Tossing his pack on the floor he eased his weight into the wooden seat. Smiling he asked, “Did ya order us up something to sip on?”
“I ordered me something to sip on, I wasn’t sure how long you’d spend flapping your jaws over at the mercantile.”
“I tend to make it quick when I’m thirsty.”
Sam chuckled, “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
“You do that.” Zeb nodded in all seriousness. “I seen an old friend of mine over there, though. Nate Sherman, you ever heard of him?”
Sam shook his head thoughtfully, “Can’t say that I have.”
Zeb started in telling him all about his friend, Nate, but Sam didn’t hear a word of it, he was watching the hot blonde making her way back to his table with his drink in hand.
Zeb stopped talking when he noticed that Sam wasn’t paying him a speck of attention. “What’re ya looking at?” Then he followed Sam’s eyes, “Oh…”
She set his drink down in front of him and waited for him to dig out the money. While she waited she looked at Zeb. “So, what’s your friends name?”
Zeb smiled, his eyebrows arching knowingly, “Wall he’s sittin’ right here, why dontcha ask him yerself?”
“Zeb! Be polite to the pretty lady.” Smiling up into her smokey eyes, he said, “My names Sam. Sam Sharp.”
“I thought it was Smith,” Zeb said as he elbowed him.
Shit. He had forgot he had made up a name, beautiful women tended to addle his brain. “Shut up, Zeb.” he groused.
The old mountain man thought the situation was pretty funny and laughed loudly, slapping his knee. “And I thought I was the forgetful one, haa haa haa!”
Ignoring his friend, he handed the woman the money.
“It’s very nice to make your aquaintence, Mr. Sharp.”
Sam grinned up at her dumbly and thumbed his cowboy hat up a notch, “Call me Sam, Miss…”
“Libby.”
Zeb smacked his hand on the scarred top of the wooden table, “Wall Libby, I aint getting any younger over here, I’d like to order me a drink before I’m laid to rest.”
Libby laughed her sultry, sexy laugh, “Alright then, what’ll you have?”
“Same as him,” Bending over the table he studied the glass, “Good ol’ fashion whiskey, I presume?”
“Nope, bourbon.”
“Bourbon! Forget it, that’s sissy stuff. Bring me a whiskey, Libby my dear, and make it a double.”
Both men watched her saunter away. Zeb shoved a hand into the front pocket of his trousers, “How much do you reckon that one costs?”
Sam chuckled, “The whiskey or the woman?”
Zeb grinned, his eyes sparkling, “Both of them will git you in a peck of trouble, but only ones worth it.”
“Probably quite a bit then. But I bet she’s worth every penny.”
Counting his poke, he teased his young friend, “Maybe I’ll jes’ find out.”
Sam studied him thoughtfully, “I thought your parts weren’t in working order, Zeb.”
Zeb’s jaw dropped, unhinged. “Bite your tongue! There aint nothin’ wrong with my parts! Their a workin’ just fine, thank you.”
Sam laughed at Zeb’s offended look, “Hey, you’re the one that said it, not me.”
“Damn yer ears, Sharp! That’s not what I was talkin’ about! I was talking about pissin’. I cant hardly piss a straight stream anymore.”
Sam frowned pensively, trying to keep a straight face. “Well, usually if one function isn’t working right, the other one isn’t either.” Leaning towards Zeb, he lowered his voice, “Have you had a chance to try it out lately?”
Zeb’s eyes popped open. “Wall God damn ya! That’s a fine thing to ask a man!”
His tyrade was was short lived however, as he was interrupted by a glass of whiskey and a pretty lady.
“Here you go, handsome.”
She might of called Zeb handsome, but she smiled and winked at Sam. He of course, returned the friendly gesture.
Two hours later, they were still playing the flirting game, only he was quite a bit drunker, and a lot more brazen. He and Zeb had been drinking them down at a pretty fair clip, mostly to keep Libby and her luscious curves at their tableside.
They were waiting for another round when Zeb took out a coin, “I’ll flip ya for her.” Tossing the coin into the air, he said, “Call it. Tits or ass?”
“I aint flipping for her. Besides, I seen her first, old man.” he teased.
Zeb growled. “Fine, I guess I’ll take that fat dark haired one then.” He said, eyeing the rather uncomely older lady across the barroom.
Sam chuckled, “I believe that one’s the bartender’s wife, so good luck with that, my aging friend.”
Zeb grumbled, “Smart aleck.” Scraping his chair backwards, he offered, “I’m gonna check out the cards, you wanna come?”
“Uhmm…” Cards or Libby. Libby or cards. No contest. “I think I’ll just stay here.”
“Suit yerself.” He got up and walked two tables over to try his hand at a game of five card stud.
Sam waited for Libby to make her way to him. When she finally arrived, she set down another drink, dipping so low the fabric on her dress threatened to give way and spill its contents all over his face. “This ones on me.” she whispered wetly in his ear.
It wasn’t long before Sam had her talked into taking a seat on his lap. It turned out that her tongue was just as talented as he thought it would be. She nuzzled his neck and nipped at his ear, driving him wild with desire.
The thought occured to Sam, that once she had him in her lair, that he’d probably last about as long as a new born calf surrounded by a pack of hungery wolves. That would be just down right shameful in his eyes. It had been too long since he’d slipped between the velvety folds of a womans bed. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by letting her down, therefore, he knew his best bet was to uncork and relieve some of the pressure before hand.
“Uh, I need to visit the facilities out back, darlin’.”
He was leaned back in the chair, his eyes closed and his hat knocked askew. Her skillful tongue had his ears ringing and his head feeling like it was going to explode any second.
She ran the tip of her tongue slowly around the rim of his ear, then breathed, “You want me come with you.”
Oh my lord. “No, no, no. Later.” Sam fought his way into a fully erect position. Slapping her on the butt, he said, “It wont take me but a minute, darlin’. Why don’t you bring me another drink while your waiting.”
Libby arched a beautiful eyebrow and kissed him slowly on the corners of his mouth while she spoke. Her breath soft as satin, “Are sure you want one more? I have plans for you in my bed tonight and you would be mighty disappointed if you passed out any time soon.”
Sam groaned. That would be a shame. “You have any coffee?”
She ran an artfull hand up his stomach to kneed the hard plains of his chest. “Do you like it dark and hard, or creamy and sweet.”
Why did everthing that came out of her sexy mouth sound so nasty?
“Both.” he smiled devilishly.
Sam made his way out the back on unsteady sea legs, pitching to and fro. Shit, he needed to sober up and fast. He hadn’t realized how much he had drank until he had stood up and room tilted off kilter. Hanging onto the edge of the table he waited for the horizon to settle before trying to walk. Half way to the door, he prayed the coffee that Libby was bringing would do it’s trick, so he’d be a little steadier as he climbed aboard her later.

For the last few weeks he had been slowly inching his way back into his former self. But, with a jerk and a groan, he took the final leep and settled fully into his old skin.
Grinning a bit drunkenly, he muttered to himself, “Welcome back, ol’ son.”
Weaving his way to the back door of the saloon, a thought occurred to him, “I’m going to hell, riding on the skirts of a big busted blonde.” laughing out loud, he missed the door handle the first time, and had to grab for it again, “What a hell of a fun trip this will be.”
Staggering into the saloon he set his sights on his recently vacated table expecting to see Libby waiting for him, instead Zeb had returned and was sitting in his seat.
Horny ol’ goat’s probably trying to weasel in on my girl, he thought, but when he seen the look on the old man’s face he became instantly alert. Well, as alert as could be expected after consuming so much alcohol. Taking a seat to give his wobbly legs a rest, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Zeb leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “Sam, do you know that big feller over there?”
Sam looked at the man standing in the middle of the room, and noticed for the first time, that everyone was quietly watching the big fellow, anxiously. The man was turned, facing away from Sam, so he couldn’t get a good look, but nothing about the backside of the man rang any bells, “No, I don’t think so, why?”
Leaning towards Sam he spoke in a low tone, “Now, don’t be alarmed, but he came in here looking fer ya.”
Sam blinked, trying to focus on the one Zeb that wasn’t moving all over the place, “Me?”
“Yeah. He come in here, hollerin’ fer ya, right before you came back in.”
From across the room the deep voice boomed, “Where in the hell is Sam Sharp! I know he’s in here somewhere,” His question was met with silence, but he was turning a slow circle, meeting every man’s eye. Finally, Sam got a good look at his face.
“Oh shit!” he murmured fiercly, as he ducked his head to the side and pulled the wide brim of his cowboy hat down to hide his face.
“You recognize him now?” Zeb asked
Sam was studying the alcohol and tobacco stained floor as he was whispered