Saviour | By : cowgirl65 Category: 1 through F > Bourbon Street Beat Views: 821 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Stumbling over a small hummock, Rex went down heavily on one knee. The chill from the damp ground seeped further into his exhausted body and didn’t know how much further he could go on, but he knew if he stopped moving he might never start again. He’d bound the bullet wound as tightly as he could, but he was still losing blood however slowly. It was supposed to be routine; deliver the money, find out who was blackmailing his client and put a stop to it. Rex hadn’t really expected to have to put a stop to it with a slug in the culprit’s heart and certainly hadn’t expected that his opponent might get off the first shot. His only chance now was to make it out of the swamp and to some sort of civilization before he succumbed to shock and fatigue. He’d left a note for Cal when he headed into the bayou country, but his partner wasn’t due back until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Rex forced himself to his feet again. Hoping he was still going in the right direction, he set off again through the darkening gloom. He fell and stumbled a few more times, and after the fifth, he almost didn’t get up. Tired, so tired. If I just take a moment and close my eyes… Rex was saved from the comfort of oblivion when his face hit the cold of a shallow pool. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind, but that only made the world twist and pitch unnervingly. Steadying himself on his hands, Rex wondered if it was worth trying to go on. He knew his body had almost reached its limit and maybe it would make more sense to just lie down where he was. But there was still that part of him that wouldn’t give up until he was stone cold dead and Rex managed to get his feet under him one last time. As he grabbed onto a low-lying branch for support, Rex spotted something. At first, he thought it was only his imagination, a hallucination brought on by the loss of blood, but as he stared at it, the light grew stronger. One foot in front of the other, he made his way towards the warm yellow glow and collapsed against the uneven boards of the porch. The door to the small shack opened and he saw a shadowed form. “Help…” was all Rex got out before he finally succumbed to the darkness and collapsed in a boneless heap. * Rex woke surrounded by warmth and blinked groggily as his eyes took in the room. Lamplight flickered off the walls and he could make out the shapes of a table, a small wood stove and a rocking chair covered by a worn blanket. Letting out a low groan, Rex tried to sit up but was prevented from doing so by a soft hand on his chest. His bare chest. Except for his bandaged shoulder, he was stark naked under the warm blanket and that discovery was followed by the realization that his likely saviour was a woman by the feel of her hand and the feminine voice that said, “Shhh. Be still, now. Would you like some water?” “Please.” Rex decided not to let it bother him and allowed her to lift his head and hold a cup of cool water to his lips. “Thank you.” The gentle hand came again and ran lightly over the bandage. “ ‘Twas a clean wound,” she told him. “All you need is some rest and you’ll be feeling fine in no time.” Rex caught his breath as her hand continued across his chest and down his belly, not stopping until it reached his groin. He felt his manhood stiffen in response to her touch and he knew he should move her hand away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Or maybe it’s not a rest you’re needing after all,” she breathed as she caressed his growing maleness. Her lips came down on his, warm and full, and Rex decided not to question as he brought his uninjured arm up to pull her down on top of him. She continued to stroke him as he plundered her mouth with his, bringing him to full hardness before her hand slipped back to cup his balls and her lips moved down to brush against his neck. She kissed her way down his chest as her lips followed the same trail her hand had taken earlier. His member twitched when she licked around the base before the sensitive crown was engulfed in her warm, moist mouth. Rex groaned with the pleasure she was bringing him. I probably am dead, or at least unconscious and near the end, he told himself as he felt his cock hit the back of her throat. How else could he have ended up in this position? He’d certainly never been what anyone would call an angel, but this was as close to his idea of heaven that he could imagine. That last time he fell he must not have gotten back up and the dark-haired man had a brief moment of regret for the friends he’d never say farewell to and for the sister and nephews he’d never see again. But it was only a brief moment as the talented mouth took him over the edge and he exploded in a burst of ecstasy. Her lips kissed their way back up and he saw her form silhouetted in the lamplight when she let her dress slip off her shoulders. Rex reached up to fondle a full breast as she straddled his legs and his member unexpectedly swelled again when it was covered by her wet heat. He really must be dead if he was able to get it up again so soon after the climax he’d just had. But if this was his version of going into the light, Rex was going to set off willingly. She rose up, grasped him firmly and guided him into her waiting centre. Rex fondled and pinched the taut nipple as she rode him hard and he brought his hips up to meet her. The resulting orgasm was even more earth-shattering than the first and Rex was covered with a fine sheen of sweat when they were done. He lost count of the number of times she brought him to completion over the course of the night and when he finally collapsed into slumber, it was with a greater sense of contentment than he’d felt in a long time. * Rex blinked open his eyes. “Well, partner, glad to see you’re back among the living.” Rex was confused when he looked into the concerned eyes of Cal Calhoun. “What…? Where…?” Glancing down, he realized he was decently clothed in a pair of pyjamas. “You’re lucky you showed up on a doctor’s doorstep when you did,” Cal was saying, “he didn’t think you would’ve gotten much farther.” A greying, bespectacled man came into view. “You’re a very fortunate young man.” “Luckier than you know.” Rex looked over at the new speaker. A middle-aged woman in a faded print dress was taking a blanket out of a chest. She came over and draped it across the bed. “Now I think your Mr. Randolph needs his rest.” Rex flushed at the memory of the last time he’d heard those words. Cal stood and grabbed his wide-brimmed hat. “I’ll go arrange with the doctor to get you back to New Orleans.” He and the doctor stepped outside as the woman fussed with the blanket. “Do you…” Rex stopped. He didn’t know if he should ask or if he even really wanted to know what had happened to him. “She saved your life. You have that look on you,” the woman told him. “Folks claim she don’t exist, but she’s there, no matter what they say.” She turned to leave but Rex grabbed her arm. “Tell me,” he insisted. “I need to know, Mrs…” “Guilbeau.” She paused, then nodded and sat in the chair Cal had vacated. “She ran a house,” Mrs. Guilbeau started, “seeing to… well, to men’s needs, as it were. A soldier, he was dying, hit by a musket ball they say, and she turned him away since he was a Redcoat. But truth was he’d only taken the coat from the man who’d shot him, after he killed him in return. Story goes the soldier’s granddam was a conjure woman and put some powerful juju on her, that she should never rest and have to continue on, tending any who needed help.” “Redcoat?” Rex wasn’t sure he’d heard properly. Redcoat was a term used for British soldiers during the Battle of New Orleans. “But that would mean…” “That the boy she turned away fought beside our own Col. Jackson, all them years ago,” Mrs. Guilbeau confirmed. “You must’ve had one foot in the grave yourself for her to come to you, Mr. Randolph.” She patted his hand. “Now you just rest. I’m sure your friend’ll have you back in New Orleans before you know it.” Rex tried to wrap his mind around what he’d been told as she left. He was open to a lot of things, but being saved by a cursed spirit, not to mention the incredible night of sex with the same ghost? You must’ve had one foot in the grave yourself. Suddenly, Rex thought he understood. He had passed out, had gone as far as his battered body would take him, and the restless spirit of a woman who sold herself for men’s pleasure had given him back his vitality in the only way she was able. Not a thing he would ever tell another soul, but as Rex sent a murmur of thanks to that unnamed woman, he thought he felt the brush of lips across his cheek to tell him his gratitude had been heard and accepted.
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