STATE OF CONSPIRACY

Part 10

EPILOGUE

Morning peeked through the curtains of Kitty's room, slanting soft light over the bed quilt, bunched, and twisted, and strewn haphazardly across the two entwined bodies. The furious activity of the night had given way to exhausted satisfaction. Clothes lay scattered over a chair back, under a table. And a pair of hand cuffs still hung, now unoccupied, from the iron rungs of the bedstead.

Kitty Russell stretched with delicious laziness, reveling in the memory of the complete abandon she had experienced during those glorious hours. She had no doubt of Matt's enjoyment, as well. In fact, enjoyment might have been an understatement considering his…reactions. Now, though, he was docile and relaxed, his face losing some of the tension and burden he had carried these several weeks. Smiling, she snuggled against his hard body, running her hand from the center of his chest down his torso, pulling in a deep breath as she remembered the wild night.

It had been almost an hour after she first taunted him that Kitty sat back to catch her breath, her body burning with desire at the sight before her. The long, hard, body of her U.S. Marshal lay bare and spread-eagle on her bed, wrists cuffed to the rungs by his own irons, sweat shining on his flexing muscles, head thrown back in agonized pleasure, the cords of his neck straining, desperate for her tauntingly elusive caress.

It took all her will power not to give in right then, but he was in her custody tonight, and she had sworn to take care of him. And take care of him she had been doing, teasing and taunting and torturing right to the edge before she refused him satisfaction again and again. But the strain on her own control had taken her to that edge with him, and now she once again leaned over him, lingering on his strong thighs and just below his navel. His hips rose from the bed hungrily, trying to find her, but she pulled back. His groan was agonized, desperate, and utterly enjoyable.

The handcuffs clanged against the bed rungs as he tried to pull his hands down, and his frustrated growl sent a stab of desire through her. "Kitty!" he pleaded.

"Since you've cooperated with your jailer," she allowed, her own voice heavy with arousal, "I'm willing to – pardon you –"

Trembling, she crawled back up his body and joined them. The irons banged again loudly as he yanked at them.

"Kitty, please! I can't –"

She heard him moan as he wrapped long fingers around the iron bars of the bedstead and met her wild thrusts. They hadn't been this out of control in a long time, but she couldn't have stopped even if she had wanted to - and she sure as hell didn't want to. She urged him on with her voice, her hands, her body, the eruption building until she couldn't hold it off any longer.

"Matt!" she screamed, clawing at him in helpless convulsions of pleasure.

Some unintelligible sound tore from his throat when he reached his peak. Prying open her eyes, she watched him through her own red whirl of ecstasy as his neck arched, the muscles of his arms tight and bulging.

When the frenzy finally released them, he collapsed, the cuffs clanking as his arms dropped to the bed. Her hands shook as she stroked up and down his sides, letting her head rest on his chest, both of them gasping for breath after the incredible intensity. They lay there several minutes, their bodies glistening in the light cast by the gas lamp.

Her body tingled and surged again with the memory, drawing a groan from her throat.

"Kitty?" Matt's voice was gentle, concerned. "You okay?"

Laughing, she kissed his chest. "Oh, yes. Yes, indeed." She heard the touch of male pride in his answering laugh.

"Matt?" she whispered lazily, her gentle voice marked contrast to the fury of the previous night.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Umm hmm."

"The other day Doc and I were talking about the trial –"

Matt sighed and ran a hand through his scattered hair. "It's over, Kitty," he said abruptly, then softened his voice. "No need to go back."

She ignored him. "You gonna tell me what Judge Brooker said?"

A long pause preceded his response. "About what?"

"You know about what."

"I told you –"

"— he said you do okay. I know that," she said, then pushed, "What else?"

He squirmed beneath her. Her stare bore right through him until he sighed and shook his head.

"All right. He said – well, he said that – uh, he just said that –"

"That Matt Dillon was not only the finest lawman he had ever seen but the finest man and that the entire scheme was the most ridiculous miscarriage of justice he had ever witnessed and that it was a sorry day when men like Marshal Dillon were targets of conniving, crooked low-lifes." Kitty smiled proudly at him, having read the account so many times she knew it by heart and was still awed by the judge's bold statement.

Matt's cheeks flushed as she repeated Brooker's lavish, unsolicited praise with clear pride in her voice. "Well, why did you ask if you already knew?" he scolded, unable to cover the rough emotion in his tone.

"Just wanted to hear it again. And I wanted you to hear it."

"Kitty, I –"

She shook her head and pressed an index finger against his lips. "I not only wanted you to hear it, Matt. I want you to believe it, all of it. And I want you to know you're the finest man I've ever known, too – the very finest."

Even though he shifted uncomfortably, Kitty read the modest acknowledgment in his eyes. He cleared his throat and announced, "I, uh, guess I better do my rounds."

As he tensed to rise, her hand pressed him back. "Nope. Remember, until the official paperwork comes through, you're still in my custody, which means you can't resume your duties."

"But Festus might need – "

"Festus needs nothing. And don't try Newly, either. He knows all about –"

"About what?" His eyes narrowed. "Kitty, this almost sounds like another conspiracy to me."

But her beatific smile was enough to derail his touch of ire. "Maybe this one you'll like better than the last one."

"Well…"

"It's going to be a beautiful day, so I sentence you to spend it at Spring Creek. Just you, me – and our imaginations. "

Cocking his jaw slightly, he contemplated her edict. After a moment, he drew in a deep breath and slid down farther into the bed, pulling her with him. "Yes, ma'am, Deputy Russell," he acquiesced, voice husky again. "I'll cooperate fully."

The End

NOTE: Thanks to those of you who asked for this story to be posted here. I enjoyed re-visiting it myself, and I hope the readers have enjoyed it, too. And, as always, many, many thanks to those of you who have been reading and commenting along the way.