Business is slow because of the heat.  I do not expect to see him, but in the door he walks.  Long limbs stretching, clothes pulled taut as he reaches for the ceiling beams.  A tawny cat on two legs.

He takes a seat and slumps down, swinging one leg out to drape over a chair, hand casually resting on his thigh as the tan material stretches tighter.  Can he know the invitation he extends?

The hat is tipped back today, a casual and confident symbol of a man who has it all.  So much the better, for I see those locks the Stetson brim so often criminally hides.

He pulls the hat off with a comment on the heat.  Brushes his fingers back through thick waves made tighter by the dampness on his brow. 

The lock stays in place for three seconds or so, then bobs back down to tease once again.  To point the way to laughing green eyes, a perfect nose, and a mouth God made just for kissing.

"I'll have a beer," he calls with a grin. "The coldest one you've got."  Left hand casually flicks open a button or two, strokes the dampness off a bronze sculptor's dream.  No rougher curls there to match the rest.

I take his refreshment slowly, wishing I could drink it down myself, knowing it would do no good.  I would be just as hot if the day were ten below zero, so long as he is in the room.

"Thank you, darlin'."  He gives me a smile.  Knocks it back in a single gulp. Hands me the glass with apology in his eyes.  Would I mind?  

I go for a second round, and that quick, a fight breaks out and he is gone.  Wading straight into the middle with a joyful cry.  In minutes he is back, none the worse but for a cut above his eye.  I grab his beer and a damp rag from the bar, heart beating loud in my chest.

"Let me help you."  My words are so calm.  He winks and tips his head back, allowing my touch.  A single bead of sweat rolls down the path of that perfect curl.  It drips onto his nose in slow motion. I playfully swipe it off.

"You've got dust in your hair from the fight," I say casually. 

My hands reach to brush away the flakes of dirt.  There is only a bit, but I take my time, threading my fingers through the softness.  A kitten never had fur so soft.  Our eyes meet again and he smiles, slowly.  "You have a nice touch."

A simple comment, possibly innocent, but I see no innocence in that emerald sparkle.  "Are there any more bruises you'd like me to tend?"  I am no innocent either.

His nod is barely perceptible.  "It could take hours to find them all."  His grin spreads wider as I take a seat on his lap, a single stroke of my hand telling me all I need to know.  There is still more perfection to be found.

The day grows hotter still…

~*~*~*~*~

I had no thought as I walked into the Silver Dollar, except finding a cool beer and a chance to take a load off for a little while.

The saloon felt much cooler than the street outside, though more than likely it was just the darkness and the relief that came from a chance to get in out of the sun.  I had spent better than a week in the saddle, working from before sunrise until long after sunset, moving the herd from one quickly drying water hole to the next, trying to keep them alive.  At least, that's what I was doing when I wasn't making hay, building fire breaks against the dried out stands of timber, and chasing the rustlers who seemed thicker than flies this year.

After around ten days of this, days with no relief or end in sight, I guess I must've been getting a little hard to live with.  Can't think of any other reason Pa would order me into town to take a day off.  Even Hop Sing practically begged me to go.  When Hop Sing starts suggesting places to eat out, you know you've become a serious pain in everyone's backside!

So there I was, no clear ideas in mind, and all the time in the world. 

Virginia City was all but deserted when I arrived.  Nobody who didn't have to be out in better than 100 degree heat, was.  I was starting to wish I'd ridden up into the mountains instead of coming into town, gone fishing maybe.  I was thinking that maybe I still would, after I'd had something to drink first.

By the time the beer I'd ordered arrived, my throat felt as dry as a desert and it didn't take more than one or two long pulls to empty my glass.  The girl who'd delivered it was a beauty, a tall brunette who looked at me in a way that made my stomach go loose and fluttery, and other places tighten up harder than stone. 

Handing her back my empty glass, I watched her turn away to get me a refill, envying that short green dress she was wearing for the way it hugged every beautifully swaying curve.  Regretfully, I reminded myself that bar maids at the Silver Dollar might dress skimpy, but they didn't offer any 'extra' services.  I told myself she was only being friendly when she smiled at me that way, and tried to put those thoughts out of my mind. Getting the message down to certain other parts of my body was proving to be a lot more difficult.

The sounds of fighting reached my ears at that moment, somebody out on the sidewalk was cursing up a storm and it sounded like the most fun I'd had in a month.  A giant scuffle had broken out, and Roy Coffee was there, trying to get through the crowd to the two men rolling through the middle of it.  I clapped him on the shoulder and waded right in swinging.  It didn't take more than a minute to reach the center, and I'd managed to take nothing more than a single badly aimed punch.  I grabbed one fella and Roy grabbed the other.  He thanked me for the help and escorted them both off to jail. 

I went back inside the saloon, the cool I'd built up inside long gone, as the exertion added to the heat.  I knew that too much of that could make even a strong man pass out cold, so I just took my seat and waited for my second beer. 

The girl returned, bringing a rag with her to tend to a cut on my face.  I hadn't even noticed it, and the truth is it was just a scratch, but I was more than willing to let her put her hands on me.  Anywhere.

The damp cloth felt good against my face, and then she started combing dust out of my hair with fingers that were still cool and damp from the beer glass.  I felt her nails skimming over my scalp, and when I saw the smile on her face, clearly telling me that she knew exactly how good that felt, I nearly lost my composure entirely.  I felt a wild urge to grab those skillful little hands and put them somewhere more useful.  To tell her how much I wanted to return the favor.  All that came out of my mouth was, "You have a nice touch."

Her eyes accepted the invitation I had not quite dared to make.  "Are there any more bruises you'd like me to tend?"

I had to be sure we understood each other.  This was the telling moment.  Would it be a slap or a kiss?  "It could take hours to find them all."

I saw her breath quicken, then she settled into my lap to kiss me, soft lips pressing my mouth open as she took a teasing little taste inside, then boldly came back for more.  I could have thrown her down on a table and taken her right that very moment.  I was that ready, and she knew it.  I felt her hand slide across my hip and give me the slightest little squeeze.  Thank God I don't have a hair-trigger, or it all would have been over right then and there. 

The bartender chose that moment to call out something about customers waiting, and to my surprise and immense disappointment, she stood, shoving the refilled beer glass into my hand when I reached for her.  "I'm off work in an hour," she said.  "Think of someplace we can go when I get back."  She winked and went to answer the bartender's call.

Pleased as I was at this confirmation that the policy of the saloon had not changed, and therefore I was not just getting 'part of the service', that was probably the longest hour of my entire life.  The day that had seemed hot before now seemed suffocating, as my own temperature refused to go down.  

It took a while before I dared to stand up and move away from my table, as I did not care to advertise my intended afternoon's activities to everyone in Virginia City.  With a whispered word that I would be back, I took my horse a few doors down to the livery stable and rented a buggy.

We didn't talk much on the way out of town.  I drove us up to a secluded lake view spot on the Ponderosa, ideal from the standards of both privacy and comfort.   Even in this heat, it was shaded enough to keep the grass green and soft.  Part of me felt a little guilty, because I knew I only wanted to get her up there for one purpose.  The stronger part knew that she wanted the same. 

We reached our destination and got out. 

"My name is Joe."  It seemed wrong not to at least tell her that much.

"Anne," she replied, smiling a little.

It was a very awkward moment as we stood there.  Two people whose sole desire is to tear their clothes off and screw each other senseless, but who can't quite find a polite way to begin.

I stepped forward and brought my mouth down to hers, and suddenly our hands were freed from their strange immobility.  We fell into the soft grass together and my shirt tore with a loud ripping sound, buttons flying everywhere.  Her hands went on stroking and unfastening, making short work of the rest of my clothes, even as I finally freed her from her own.

I have never been so thoroughly explored by anyone.  I take a certain amount of pride in being a good lover, in making sure my partners enjoy the experience as much as I do, but next to this girl I might as well have turned back into the fumbling virgin boy I'd been at seventeen.

Her hands and mouth were everywhere.  Did you know that your navel, your armpits and the base of your spine, if touched just right, can send sexual shocks all the way through your body?  It was news to me!

Fortunately for my peace of mind, Anne seemed to be as pleased by my touch as I was by hers.  We must have gone full circle together a half dozen times before I finally had to confess myself done for the day.

It was getting late, so we picked ourselves up and got dressed again.  I noticed for the first time that I was not the only one wearing torn clothing as she tried unsuccessfully to fasten a corset with busted strings, and finally settled for wearing the dress without it. 

We drove back into town and kissed goodnight, one last lingering kiss that both of us somehow knew would be our last.  I would not seek her out again, nor would she accept if I were to do so.  "It was perfect," she told me, then turned away and walked into her home without a backward glance.

I retrieved Cochise and returned the buggy, ignoring the leering look I received from the man inside.  I rode home slowly, lost in thought, noticing in a vague sort of way that it had begun to rain.  I was surprised when I found myself in the front yard of my own home, my horse waiting patiently for me to get off and unsaddle him.  I took care of his needs and went inside the house.

"Well, young man, it's about time you got home!"  Pa's words greeted me the moment I crossed the threshold, but I could tell he was not angry at my lateness.  A little relieved to have me back safely, perhaps.  "How was your day off?  Did you find something to do?"

"Hey, Pa," I said. I walked over to the sofa and took a seat.  "I went to town for a while, then spent the day lying under a tree by the lake.  Say, did you know it's raining?"

He shook his head impatiently.  "Yes, I did, and I would appreciate it if you'd get yourself upstairs and into some dry clothes before you settle yourself on the furniture."

"Oh, sorry, Pa.  Guess I am pretty wet."  I had not even noticed.

"Are you all right?"  It was Hoss coming in with a plate of cookies.  "You look like you been fighting and you're acting mighty strange."

"There was a fight, actually.  I helped Roy get a couple of fellas down to the jail," I remembered.  It seemed like something that had happened long ago.

"That must've been some scuffle," Hoss observed.  "You look like you gone three rounds with a wild cat!"

For the first time I took a real assessment of myself.  My clothes were torn in several places, buttons were missing, my shirt was untucked, and I was sure my hair was as disheveled as it had ever been.  My lips were swollen and there were fingernail scratches and nibble marks all over my body, though hopefully not anywhere that would show.  I knew there was probably also bruising and swelling on my left cheek where Anne and I had knocked heads during one particularly violent climax.  I started to smile, then couldn't stop myself from laughing.  "I guess I did at that," I told my brother.  "I think I'll go on up to bed, Pa.  I'm all in."

Pa frowned, undoubtedly wondering how a day lazing by a lake could wear me out, but all he said was, "Sleep well, Joseph.  Pleasant dreams."

I smiled and went up to my room.  The temperature was dropping rapidly as the rain continued to fall, and as I pulled off my boots and pants, and what remained of my shirt, and crawled into bed, I knew I would have the best night's sleep I'd ever had.  My dreams that night would indeed be pleasant ones.

The End