7 comments/ 16874 views/ 7 favorites Louisiana Heat Ch. 01 By: shandal This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you like to sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * Louisiana -- A prison chain gang 1934 * The sun beat down hot and heavy on Jakes naked back, his perspiration glistening skin tight across his broad shoulders where it was red from the burn of the sun and the long red stripes from the guard's whip where it had struck him only ten minutes ago after he had stopped to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Rivulets of salty sweat ran down his neck from his thick sweat soaked black hair, stinging the raw flesh, and his aching muscles bulged in his long strong arms and chest as he raised the heavy iron sledge hammer up before bringing it down onto the large rock in front of him, breaking it into fragments, some of which flew up, hitting him on his unprotected naked torso, making small flesh wounds that dribbled blood to mingle with the stinging sweat. It had been a long eighteen months since he had been railroaded, framed by the local sheriff, found guilty by a crooked Judge, and sent here to this hell-hole to work on the chain gang breaking rocks and digging dirt. He was working laying down the new road that was to run through the Parish to make travel from one end of this godforsaken area and the ramshackle town that sat twenty miles to the east, to where the new train station was being built in the large main town, fifty miles to the south, circuiting the swampy and boggy bayou that was full of rich vegetation, wild animals and slow moving water. Raising up the hammer above his head, he brought it down hard, smashing one of the larger fragments into even smaller ones as he saw out of the corner of his eye the shackled legs of one of the other five men in his chain shuffle closer, so the man could bend and start to pick up and clear the scattered rocks that Jake was breaking, and put them in the back of the cart waiting ready to be hauled back to the compound where it was then unloaded. Growling out of the side of his mouth the old man, without looking up at Jake, hissed, "You alright kid....judging from the position of the sun its almost time to go back." Just grunting Jake shuffled forward and to the side a step and raised the heavy implement high up again and then down starting on the next large boulder, just as one of the two armed guards walked passed him, rifle resting in his arms, the three thronged whip that before had cracked down upon his flesh dangling from the fat mans hands, the leather strips swinging with each step the vicious guard took past him, moving through the stifling heat up to where the other men were working. * An hour later, joined up to the other men by the long chain that attached to the pair of shackles that encircled and rubbed at the skin of his ankles Jake shuffled in line back to the compound. Flexing his aching muscles and holding the stiff prison jacket that matched his stiff worn trousers in his right hand he started the long walk back, a hand that was now rough and hard from the manual work, but only two years before had been soft from his work as an accountant in a town close to the Atachafalaya River. There was a burning hate in his heart, as tangible as the burnt skin that covered his sunburnt and red welted back. His every waking hour was spent planning and plotting how to escape this hell. How he could escape and reap revenge on the very people who had put him here in the prison chain gang for the next seven years. Seven more years of hard manual labor, breaking rocks, digging soil and being a slave for the county, building the very road that he had been about to expose as part of the web of corruption he had found, along with the corruption concerning the building of the Levees in the Atachafalaya and the Teche Rivers near the Bayou by the Mayor, sheriff and business men who railroaded him to keep him quiet. The sour smell of sweat rose up at him from the man in front on the chain as the six pitiful men shuffled behind the cart full of rocks pulled by the skinny old horse back to the compound, the two guards sat laughing up on the cart as it made its slow way back, guns balanced across their laps. Using the jacket in his hand Jake wiped at his damp face, neck and chest and squinted up at the dying sun above as it started to dip down behind the trees. Today had been hot, in the high 90's, but with the falling of the sun the temperature wouldn't lower much and the heat trapped in the closed in dormitory where thirty men slept, chained to their beds, would be much higher, the stink of the men assaulting his nostrils and making sleep on the hard bed difficult. After a long forty five minute walk Jake could see the compound, with its high wooden walls, the guard towers and the sharp wire that ran around the top coming up in front of him. Moving through the big heavy doors they entered the large area, where the huts, prisoners and the men that guarded them lived.....and in many cases died. Standing quietly he waited until a guard unlocked him from the chain that joined the six men, and then shuffled off to the big barrel full of water to wait his turn at scooping up in the dented metal scoop a long drink, and then to sluice another scoopful over his head and shoulders. "Hurr'up boy....." The fat guard called Broussard shouted out to him, "Get tu ass over to t't cart and start unloadin' 'hem rocks." The sound of the mans deep Cajun accent made Jake stand still, the metal scoop raised up over his head, and his hand tightened around the long handle, his knuckles gripping it turning white. "Yes boss." He answered in his deep quiet voice before lowering his arm and giving the ladle to the next in line and making his way over to the back of the cart. At six foot two, with dark green eyes that reflected his anger, and a well muscled body and broad shoulders that the hard work of the last year and a half had honed, made other men step back out of his way. Broussard hefted his fat carcass up onto a crate that sat nearby and watched as Jake unloaded the rocks and threw them onto the large growing pile on the dirt ground next to the cart. "Thin' tu is'n a cut above us, don' you boy?...got high and mighty ways......educated!........you ain't nothing but dirt......pure dirt.....not even worth nothin'.....not even worth as much as those rocks tu is totin'......" Picking up a rock from the cart and putting it on the pile Jake ignored the taunts. The guard was an ignorant prick. Fat, sweaty and red faced, with hanging jowls that quivered and tufts of black greasy hair that poked out from the brim of his hat, Broussard enjoyed his power over the men and wielded it with a heavy whip that came down regularly across the backs of the men under his charge. Jake knew to react would mean a night in the iron box, no food, no water and being bitten to death by the insects that he wouldn't be able to slap at by manacled hands. He had learnt his lesson the hard way.......just the once was enough to teach him to bite his tongue and ignore the taunts. After a while Broussard lost interest in taunting him and moved on over to where other men either stood or sat around in the compound, pure exhaustion from the days work, the oppressive heat, humidity, and from being broken by a cruel and heartless system made any small talk almost non existent between them. Finding old man Granger, his fine white hair sticking to his shiny bald head flopped out on the ground resting, Broussard kicked him with his foot, "Get up ol' man.....go help Bailey unload t't cart." And he gave the old man another kick before poking him with the rifle. "Unless tu wanna spend the night in t't box?" Granger pushed his body up and walked over to Jake. "Mean old bastard that Broussard.....can't be getting any from that fat old wife of his back in town." Jake smiled at the old man, not saying a word and together they cleared the rocks from the back of the cart as the other men moved slowly out of the sun to settle in the shade trying to keep away from the worst of the heat, waiting to be called for supper. Eventually the cart was cleared and another convict who had earlier unhooked the horse and led it away came over with the scoop full of water and offered it to Jake and the old man. Nodding towards the obviously exhausted and on his last legs Granger, Jake indicated to let him drink first and watched as the old man swayed as he drank in front of him. The convict that had brought the water over murmured, "He aint going to last much longer at this rate......shouldn't even be here.....should be in the main prison at Lafayette....sixty-one, he's too old to be doing hard labor." Taking the ladle from Granger Jake thirstily drank the remaining dregs, his dry mouth and throat full of rock dust and then said, "The bastards are trying to break him.......rumor has it he was part of the gang that stole that payroll from the train on its way to the main jail.....heard he was the inside man on the train.....they aren't going to forgive him any time soon......" Granger looked up at Jake, a small smile on his face, "Maybe I was and maybe I weren't.......but the fuckers will never know if the money's still hid or not.....and that's why they ain't going to kill me....they think I know....but I ain't telling them. Not now....not ever...whatever they do to me." "You mad old man......." But what ever the other convict was about to say was interrupted by the clanging of the meal gong and the three men shuffled off to join the line to get their supper. * Scooping up the last of the red beans and rice from the tin plate and gulping down the tepid water in his mug, Jake leant forward where he sat on the long wooden table, his arms resting on the scarred wood. Darkness had fallen and the sweet smell of Magnolia drifted over from outside of the compound, and the noises of the night started to buzz in the air as the insects and animals went about their business, calling out warnings to each other, or trying to attract the opposite sex to mate with and make more insects and animals in the everlasting cycle of life. Bowing his head down and closing his eyes Jake thought of Abigail, just as he remembered her, her light brown hair scooped up, her long slim neck supporting her heart shaped face, almond shaped brown eyes smiling up at him. Daydreaming about her helped to make the nightmare of the work camp fade, and he lost himself imagining himself kissing her and slowly unbuttoning her white cotton blouse to reveal her high small breasts. His hands fisted lightly on the table as he sunk deeper into his thoughts, the sounds of the night and the murmur of the men talking fading away, the picture of her breasts bright in his brain as he imagined his hands cupping them, his thumb pad sweeping across the hard buds that tipped her breasts, the contrast of the darker skin of his hands against her pale creamy flesh........ Suddenly the sounds of shouts, and the crashing of chairs split the air and his fantasy disappeared as the scream of a man rent the air along with the crack of a whip. Standing up Jake watched as Broussard lifted his arm and brought the weapon back down with a sharp crack on the cowering black man who covered his head trying to protect it from the leather raining down on him. Two more guards ran over and grabbed the screaming convict, dragging him away from the table and over to a clearing in the compound where they kicked him and hit him before they cuffed his arms behind his back and dragged him by his feet over towards a metal lid of a coffin sized metal box recessed into the dirt and rolling him in, closed and locked the lid. "Jesus, what did Brandon do to deserve that?" the man next to Jake whispered. Shaking his head Jake replied, "Who knows.....maybe nothing....just happened to be there in the wrong place at the wrong time.....becoming Broussard's fun for the night." Settling back down and looking down at his plate, Jake along with the other men kept still as the three guards walked up and down the table waiting for any movement from the men under their charge. After a while one of the guards yelled for the men to get down for the night. Picking up his plate and mug, Jake followed the line, placing them in the dirty cracked outside sink where they would be washed by the prison kitchen detail, and made his way towards the wooden hut that was now home. Each man had the shackles removed from his ankles before they entered the stinking outhouse, and Jake undid the flies of his trousers and peed into the hole so that his piss join the river of yellow urine of the others as it drained out, the sour smell assaulting his nostrils, then rolled down and took off his trousers to stand naked with the others under the thin stream of water that was laughingly called a shower, trying to removing the grit, sweat and dirt from his body, and letting the water ease the tight skin of his back and shoulders. Grabbing the trousers and jacket he went naked outside waiting for the shackles to be replaced before dropping his clothes to the growing pile by the door as he entered naked the sweltering heat that greeted him on the inside of the windowless long hut. On each side of the hut were a row of metal bunks and Jake lay down on a lower bunk of a bed halfway along on the right side of the hut watching as a guard moved down each row, securing the short chain that ran between the cuffs on each prisoners ankles to the bottom eyelet on the end of each bunk. Lying with his arms behind his head he stared up at the bunk above him, waiting his turn to be secured, and when he felt the chain between his legs pulled and secured his eyes never wavered. He just laid there, the anger at the ignoble treatment building inside him, as the guard moved on to the next bunk, tethering men as if they were animals for the night. The light went off as the guards left the hut and the sound of the door being bolted rang through the humid and static air inside the building, a quiet lull as men lay, each in their own thoughts lasted for five or six minutes, and then the nightly noise began. Men started to talk, threats rang across the room, hard men telling softer men what they would do to them when they got their hands on them, a man to his left started to cry softly, further across another man started to jerk off, the creaking of his bed getting faster and faster as he worked himself up to cum. Jake turned over on his side, pulling his legs up as far as they would move against the restraint, closed his eyes and continued to fantasise about Abigail and the time they had the picnic down by the river, walking hand in hand amongst the long grass, past the Bold Cypress trees, listening to the buzz of the honey bees as they moved from flower to flower along the bank. In his mind he could smell the sweetness of her rose perfume, feel her soft hand in his, and the sound of her laughter in his ears. Holding the fantasy in his head he drifted off to sleep, the reality of his life fading as the dream took hold. * At the same time that Jake drifted off to sleep, Hannah Campbell stood outside on the porch of her run down one story home, her slim arms crossed across her breasts, her dusky blond hair pulled back in a thick ponytail. The cotton skirt she wore hung down hot against her bare legs as she watch the car pull up on the dirt drive of her property and she watched the sheriff climb out the dust covered police car. Hitching up his jeans, his leather gun holster riding low down on his narrow hips Sheriff John Millet adjusted his hat on his short blond hair, and walked towards Hannah with a slow easy swagger. "Evenin' Miss Hannah...." Tipping his hat with his hand, "sure is hot tonight." Looking out around her property he noticed Frank her farmhand standing outside the barn, watching with his obsidian eyes every move that he made. Nodding over to the black man who wore torn and worn denim dungarees over his naked and glistening torso he then turned his face back towards Hannah. "You got a cool drink going.....maybe some nice fresh lemon perhaps?" Hannah just stared at him then nodded over to the outside water pump, "Water is over there Sheriff, drink from the pump......that is if you can get any water out since they put in the levees and dried up the water table around her in the rice fields." Removing his hat and wiping his brow John gave her his most winning smile, "Hannah, Hannah.......the levees needed to be put in......let me inside and we can talk about selling your place to the consortium......they want to give you a fair price." "Fair price! Sheriff this place is all I got....what they're offering is an insult......this is my home....it was my parents place....they're buried over there" and she pointed to the graves under a big Cypress tree, ".....I ain't selling.....you tell them that.....and I have no intention of inviting a low slithering snake like you into my home." "Now you don't mean that Hannah......" "Yeah I do.....get back in your car and go back into town and tell them the place is not for sale......not now......not ever." Taking a step forward towards her, his hand on his holster he replied, "If'n I was you I wouldn't be so hasty......notice you're scrabbling around raising vegetables and fruit, and I bet those and the small amount of eggs your hens are laying ain't bringing in enough to keep a soul together." Taking another step and glancing over to Frank who stood stock still watching and waiting for sign from Hannah he lowered his voice and told her, "Be good for you to be real nice to me Miss Hannah.....if you know what I mean.....always thought you a real fine looking woman......sell up and be nice to me and I'll make sure you come out of this smelling sweet as an apple pie." Hannah looked down at the thirty two year old man, the sweat stains on his shirt showing dark, his hard featured face with the day old stubble and cold eyes looking her up and down in a suggestive way. "Sorry Sheriff, the farm and myself are not up for sale." And she turned around on the porch and walked through the screen door, closing the wooden door behind it and bolting it from the inside. John stood there in the night looking at the closed door, then turned on his heel, climbed into the car and turning it around, drove out and away. * Abigail walked out of the kitchen, the two empty glasses in her hands, and a wide smile on her face. "Here you are sugar, two glasses waiting to be filled." And she held them out towards the man sitting on the couch, jacket off, tie loosened with the top button of his white shirt open, suit vest hanging open undone. "Just pour in a couple of inches of that smooth hooch." Rory Kendal, Jakes best friend and former business partner leant forward, tipping the bottle up so that the golden brown liquid started to pour into the glass in her right hand. "Best take this slow and easy baby, this is strong stuff." Sitting down next to him and holding out the other glass for him to fill she laughed, "Strong and tasty, and totally illegal." And she raised the now filled glass up to her lips and took a long sip, "and that makes it all the more exciting." Taking a sip from his own glass of the drink, Rory looked at her and smiled a wicked smile, "Baby you make it more exciting." And his empty hand snaked around her shoulder and pulled her down towards him, turning his body towards her, and letting his mouth close over hers, his tongue, still with the taste of the illegal alcohol on it curling around hers in a deep passionate kiss. Louisiana Heat Ch. 01 After a while he leant back and looked down at Abigail as she tipped back her head draining the last of her drink from the glass and then saw her holding it out for him to refill it, "So sweet and demure looking, no one would ever guess just what a little hellion you really are." "And don't you ever forget it Sugar......now pour the damn drink and then let's go get down and dirty between the sheets...." Pouring the drink for her he felt his cock harden in anticipation of what was to come. Rory Kendal and Abigail Roseaux had been lovers for the last two years, and had plotted together, along with the Sheriff, Mayor and others to frame Jake to take the fall and to take the heat off of them and the conspiracy that made them all a lot of money when they sold on ripped off land from the poor rice and dirt farmers in the area, and on to the county at inflated costs to build the new road. * Hannah stood in front of the faded mirror in her bedroom; the reflection looking back at her left her depressed. She felt her best years were behind her. The last few years had been hard, and it seemed things were getting worse day by day. Letting down her hair so that it fell down past her thin shoulders she picked up the old dented and tarnished silver backed hairbrush that had been handed down through three generations from her grandmother to her mother and then to her. Running the brush through her hair she wondered how much she would get if she sold the silver backed brush. Not much she guessed. Not enough to buy the seeds she needed or some feed for the hens. The whole country was in the grip of depression, and this area of Louisiana was also being hit by the building of the Levees that had been recently been put in along the two Rivers, and had reduced the supply of water to the many small rice farms in the area, causing them to sell out, making way for the new road to be built and making a handful of investors rich off the backs of the poor folk who sold out to them for a pittance, or had defaulted to the banks on mortgages. And she was the last farm in the way. Putting the hairbrush down she slowly unbuttoned the plain thin cotton blouse and slipped it off of her shoulders after pulling it out of the skirt that was now two sizes too big for her. With the falling off of the water table, and the loss of the rice fields she was just as dirt poor and scrabbling around for money as Sheriff 'Goddam' Millet said she was, which meant cutting back on everything, including food. Undoing her skirt and letting it pool around her bare feet she thought of the Sheriff and his so obvious suggestion. Laughing to herself she thought that although she was getting desperate, she wasn't yet that desperate. Reaching around her back she unhooked the plain white cotton bra, letting it drop to join the skirt on the floor, and stretched her arms high above her head to ease the tension she felt across her shoulders. At twenty nine she still had small pert breasts and standing sideways, and letting her arms drop, she watched them in the mirror. Small, pert and high on a slim long body, tipped by dark dusky nipples they pointed out, a smattering of pale freckles sprinkled across her shoulders and the gentle curve of her chest. No man had ever touched them. No man had even seen them. All her life she had first helped her parents on the farm, and when they had both died two years ago she had carried on working and running it. She had never had the time to have romance. Never had the time to go into town to be carefree and join the other people her age to meet up at the local store to drink soda's, and then go onto the Movie house to watch the glamorous film stars in their stunning gowns dance and act in films up on the big screen. Turning around and looking at the reflection over her shoulder of her slim back in the mirror she looked down at the curve of her bottom encased in the plain cotton cami-knickers. No she thought to herself, no man might ever get to touch her, but at night she could dream. Fantasise and let herself imagine, and climbing up onto the big old feather mattress that lay on the large iron framed bed she would lay back and let her mind wander, her hands stroking up the length of her torso until she reached her breasts and her palms swept over the two hard buds that grew even harder as her eyes closed and she started to let her imagination run away as the restlessness swelled into the flesh between her thighs. * Abigail's throaty laugh echoed in Rory's ears as he pushed her hard against the wall, his body pressed against hers, his mouth sucking on the side of her neck where her pulse beat hard under her pale skin, the taste of salt from her perspiration and the sweet smell of 4711 Eau de Cologne sank into his senses as she pulled at the open suit vest, pulling it down his arms, "Sugar, show me what you've got.......make me scream.....I want to feel that fire." Lifting up her skirt his hand cupped the mound between her legs, the dampness coming through on her undergarment and he growled into the skin of her neck. "Baby I want you to scream for me......and moan......and beg.....and yell.........." And he pushed the material aside and plunged two fingers inside her, ".....and shriek.....and howl.....cum for me baby......show me what you got." * Back in town Rory's wife sat rocking and crying softly beside the bedside the cot of their six month old son. Dark had settled around her, it was late, and she knew he was with her......that woman that he had been seeing. He didn't even try to hide it now.....brazenly going out to eat with her, or going to the Movie Palace, leaving his own wife to sit at home and cry. She knew people in town talked about it when she walked by, staring at her, wondering, whispering together behind their hands. But what was she supposed to do. The tears fell down her cheeks as she looked at their sleeping child and waited to see if he would bother to come home tonight, or stay with that woman. The one that used to be Jakes girlfriend only eighteen months ago. Louisiana Heat Ch. 02 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * The guards were opening the iron box early the next morning where the prisoner called Brandon had been thrown in the night before. Jake and the other prisoners watched as they lined up ready for work detail under the blazing morning sun as the limp form of the black man was hauled out of the box where it was recessed into the ground. Last night the temperature had stayed hovering in the late eighties and inside the box it would have risen well past a hundred. The men in the hut had heard the screams and begging to be let out by Brandon for hours until his noise had stopped sometime in the night, and then the terrible silence from outside had echoed through all the men's heads as they thanked God that they were not in the box that night instead of him. Jake stood in line and kept his eyes on the figure lying on the ground where the guards had dropped it, still and soaked with the wet of his own sweat. One of the guards gave the prone man a kick, and getting no response bent down and placed his fingers at the prisoners throat looking for a pulse. Looking up at the other guard who stood there, the kneeling man shook his head, and they dragged the dead figure away and out of sight. "Bastards, Brandon was only a kid," Jake heard a male voice growl behind him, "ended up here after stealing some food from a local store to feed his family, Got a young wife and two small kids." Another voice added, "If I wasn't in these damn leg irons I'd like to get my hands on just one of those fucking bastards. Kill him; show him what it feels like to have real pain." "You'd get shot as you ......" "Be worth it to kill one, and dying don't scare me.....living like this for the next twenty years do." Shuffling off in his line, chained to the five other men, Jake tried to shut down his feelings and concentrated on walking the five miles to the work station. The mood in the chain was one of anger mixed with sadness for the loss of one of their own, with an overriding feeling of helplessness. * Sheriff John Millet sat in the chair in front of the wooden desk of Mayor Gaudet and watched as the well padded man took his time lighting the cigar in his hand. Claude Gaudet always made a long ritual out of lighting the fat cigars he smoked, cutting the end with a silver antique cigar cutter, then smelling the cigar by passing it a number of times under his red veined nose, rolling the damn thing over the flame of the gold lighter he kept in the pocket of his suit vest, puffing and pulling on the cigar until the end started to glow, and then sitting back sighing as if he had just had an orgasm. During the ritual John knew not to interrupt, but just sit there, patiently, until the Mayor decided he had finished and would address him. "So Sheriff.....you went and made another offer to the girl? She biting?" "She'll bite.....she's just holding out for pride.....she'll come 'round." "Make it sooner than later......I need to sell off that last bit of land to allow for the road to go through. Promised them they would have it by next month. Nudge her harder to agree." "I told you she'll sell.....water table is low and getting lower as the levees are biting in." The Mayor sat forward, the smoke from the cigar swirling up towards the ceiling where a wooden fan turned, moving the hot humid air around the room. "I ain't asking......I'm telling you. Put some pressure on her....get her to agree.....maybe a little fire....burn down her crops....pull the rug from under her feet....she don't have crops to sell, she starves......she'll agree." John felt the bile raise up in his stomach. "I'd rather try other ways, I don't think......" "I don't pay you to think John........just do." The fat man interrupted, jabbing his cigar towards the Sheriff. "And do it soon....my patience is wearing thin." John got up, hat in hand and looked down at the man in whose pocket he was deep in, nodded and said. "Sir." and walked out of the office, down the corridor and out of the building. Stopping on the sidewalk he placed his hat back on his head and ground his teeth. He wasn't happy about doing what the Mayor had suggested. He had feelings for Hannah and last night he realised he had handled her in a stupid and clumsy way, but damn it she made him feel like a schoolboy whenever he saw her. She rarely came into town, even less now that her parents had died, sending instead her farm worker that had lived and worked on the farm for years. But every time she had come into the town he had watched her, yearned to ask her out, but she treated him with distain and he just always seemed to say the wrong things, did the wrong things around her. It had been like that for years and now the Mayor was asking him to do things against her, things that would hurt her and he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Knowing he couldn't do what he was being told to do, set fire to her crops and starve her out, nor could he let her stay there in the old place. It was prime land now, needed for the road building that would join up the towns in the area, and would put money in the pocket of the suit vest that was stretched tight across the big belly of the Mayor, and thus ultimately put money in his own pocket. Striding down the street he walked towards his own office, trying to think of another way he could put the pressure on her to take the money and sell up without it getting out of hand. * Sitting at his desk in the office he once shared with Jake, Rory went over the accounts he was preparing for the towns only Pharmacist and noted that even in this difficult time of Great Depression they were doing alright. Later on he thought to himself would walk over and maybe buy Abigail some fancy female doodah that smelt good. Maybe some soap, or perfume, or maybe some of that bubble bath stuff that he had seen either Jean Harlow or Claudette Colbert bathe in, in some movie at the Movie Theatre a few months ago. He would love to see Abigail sunk up to those beautiful breasts of hers in white frothy bubbles, even better he would like to join her in those white frothy bubbles and make love to her in the big claw footed large bath that was in her house just on the outskirts of town. Wiping his brow he sat back in the chair. It was hot, even though it was only mid morning, and getting hotter. Deciding to grab a cold drink at the small café over the road from his office he got up and grabbed his jacket from where it hung over the back of his chair and left, locking up the office to step out onto the street. Sheriff John Millet was just passing when he left, and the two men nodded at each other, aware that each held the secrets of the other when it came to the framing of Jake Bailey and the forcing out and selling on of the small farmers land to the state for the development of the new road. John strode on past the other man, the tightness in his stomach a hard ball, the bad taste in his mouth at what he and Rory Kendal had done and what was now expected of him to do to Hannah. * Bending over in the back field Hannah picked the Blueberries from the bushes, placing them in the rapidly filling up old tin bucket next to her. Further up the field Frank her farm hand, his muscled body also bent over was also picking the fruit. She wore a large tattered straw hat to protect her fair skin from the blazing sun up in the sky, and rivulets of sweat trickled down her back and between the valley of her breasts as she worked. It was back breaking work, and something she wouldn't have been doing in the past. Back then, before the big financial crash, before the levees started to dry up the rice fields, back when her parents were alive, they could afford to hire men to do the harvesting. But that was all behind her now. Now to survive, the rice fields were gone, but the vegetables, fruit and her hens were left and she and Frank harvested the produce and then sold it off in town to local shops and restaurants for the small pittance to help them survive. Frank would drive into town with the produce in the big old truck that had seen better days, and every so often she would go on in, buy what she needed and come back home, the feelings of loneliness assaulting her after each visit. But still she held out against selling up. This had been her parent's home, and her grandparent's home before them. It was where she had lived all her life. But without realising it she had made it a prison of her own making. And as the Depression bit down on the country, and as the falling water table dried up the fields, so was her life drying up. Straightening up to stretch her aching back she looked out across the land and sighed. To be able to pick enough fruit to sell in town to pay for the taxes her and Frank would be picking fruit until late and it would be too dark to see. What she really needed was some more workers, but there wasn't any spare cash to pay them, even the odd out of work hungry men who came looking for work, those transient workers who had the look of utter desperation on their faces, those she would share a meal, give some of her father's clothes to, and let sleep in the old barn for a night before they went on their way in search of work. There wasn't much around. There wasn't much of anything anymore. Bending over she resumed picking the fruit from the bushes. Back breaking work but at least it put some food on the table and brought in some money. * The sun was at its height in the sky and the six men on Jakes chain were digging dirt to clear the way, the back breaking work in the heat and humidity making even the strongest men feel as if they were going to drop. The two guards, including the evil Broussard, sat in the shade of the trees, guns and whips balanced on their laps, water bottles by their side, watching the men as they worked. Chained in pairs they worked, and the chain between each pair was approximately four feet, letting each pair move forward enough to scoop up the earth and shovel it to the side of the area in large piles. Jake was paired with a big burly black called Chesney with a mean look about him, a scar of about three inches running down the side of his face and supposedly in for the murder of some man who dared to be rude to his woman one night in a bar. Chesney had a hair trigger temper, and was burning up about the death of the young man who had died overnight in the box. All morning he had been muttering about what he would do if he got his hands on Broussard and the other guards, but Jake just ignored him, living inside his own head, plotting and planning his own revenge on those who had framed him. Suddenly he heard the shouts of the guards as they rose from where they sat in the shade and squinting his eyes against the sun looked further down the area that they were clearing to where another couple of the chain gang were working, one of the pair, old man Granger was bent down on his knees, his white haired head bent in exhaustion, skinny arms hanging down useless from the continual hard work and heat. Straightening up Jake watched as the two guards rushed over and lifting their whips brought them down on Granger, screaming at him to get up and keep working. The whips rained down on the old man, the bastards screaming at him as he fell forward, covering his head, curling his body up to protect it as much as he could from the vicious lashes. "Get up you lazy fucker......." "Move your'n ass.....get goin'" Jake felt the chain on his leg pull as Chesney moved forward, the shovel in the black mans hands raised like a weapon. "Here's our chance...." He hissed at Jake, "They ain' watchin' us.......they ain't watchin' any of us....they goin' to kill the old man." And he jerked his leg, the one attached to Jake, making Jake almost fall over. Moving forward to keep up with the hurrying Chesney so that he didn't fall over, Jake raised his shovel, and out of the corner of his eye saw the third pair of chained men move forward also towards the guards as they carried on raining blows on Granger. Chesney brought down the shovel hard one of the guards head, and then raised it again bringing it down hard a second time as the man fell across Granger, splitting the mans head so that blood spurted out and he lay still. Broussard turned around at the first hit, and fumbled to raise the rifle tucked under his arm, but Jake and Chesney were too close for him to be able to get the rifle fully up. Jake swiped his shovel up and across Broussard's face just as Chesney brought his down the second time on the other guard, and Broussard fell backwards, the rifle falling out of his hands and the stock hitting the hard ground. There was a loud bang and Jake felt a piercing hot pain in his side as the bullet, caused by the falling gun hitting the ground, fired, and skimmed through his side, biting out a chunk of flesh. Chesney rose up his shovel and brought it down on Broussard's head, knocking him completely out, and then bent and pulled the keys from the unconscious mans belt, bent and undid his leg chain. Throwing the key to Jake, who fumbled and dropped it as he held the wound on his side, he told him, "Run......fucking run as fast as you fucking can......" and then turned and was gone, running towards the trees, disappearing with Broussard's gun in his hand. The two other convicts standing nearby grabbed the fallen key from the dirt and undid their leg irons, as did the convict connected to Granger, and then one of them grabbed the other fallen guards rifle and Jake, who was trying to pull the unconscious man off off Granger as he lay still and quiet asked the other men to help him get the sprawled heavy guard off the old man. "Fuck you man.....its everyman for himself." And the three convicts ran for the trees and disappeared from sight. Grunting and straining to move the unconscious guard from off of Granger, his side burning where the bullet had stripped the furrow from his flesh, Jake slowly managed to move the dead weight of the overweight man from the still body of the old man. Turning Granger over, careful not to touch his back where the lashes had hit him, he bent over the man, "Granger.....Granger......" Holding the man's head in his arms he watched as the old mans eyes flickered open, a low groan of pain emanating from the depths of the old mans throat. A gnarled hand weakly grabbed at Jakes arm, "Calvary.......boy I'm dying.....money......Calvary......meadow behind......in hollow tree......money is in Calvary....." Jake tried to get the man up, "Come on old man.....we need to get out of here....." The hand tightened on his arm, "Listen.......Calvary.....the meadow behind in a hollow tree.....the money from the train.....I hid it there......Calvary." Reaching behind him Jake scrabbled around in the dirt looking for the key to unlock the leg irons on him and Granger, but the old man gave a gasp and with a death rattle died. Hanging his head in sorrow for a moment, Jake took the time to mourn the passing of the old man, and then as the pain in his side seemed to bring him to his senses, he continued to look for the missing keys, found them and unlocked the leg iron from his ankle. Looking around at the area he was in he tried to work out the best direction to run to, glancing back behind him to the where the other men had run into the trees he decided to run in the opposite direction and giving a last glance down at the dead Granger and the two guards he staggered to his feet, and lurched off towards the thick woods to his right, and into the shade, and out of the burning sun. * Abigail sashayed down Main Street, a smile on her face. Things were going just as she wanted them to. Rory was twisted around her little finger, thinking with his prick. She now had some money in the bank and her standing in the community was on the rise. She knew that her looks were those of a sweet gentle female, demure looking and mild, but inside was a calculating volcano, self serving and manipulating. Selfish and hungry for more money, she wanted a great deal more than this Louisiana backwater town and this quiet boring life. She wanted so much more, and she knew her plans were going to soon come to fruition. Plans that had started over two years ago. Plans to get her out of here with plenty of money to back her up when she made her move to Hollywood and her dream of fame in the movies. Dreams where she would be on the silver screen and living the life of luxury and fame like those of the stars she read about in the magazines she bought each month and watched up on the screen in the Movie Theatre. Dreams where the likes of Clark Gable, Errol Flynn, and William Powell would fall in love with her. Where she would have wonderful clothes, and live in a large home with a tennis court, and a swimming pool like she had seen in the magazines. And her face would be the one on those very magazines, smiling out with millions of fans swooning over her. Nodding to the good ladies from the Church as they stood chatting on the sidewalk outside of the hat store she carried on making her way towards the Mayors office and the next part of her plan that would get her to California, Hollywood, and away from this small hick town in the backwaters of Louisiana. * Over the road watching the young woman as she made her way towards the Municipal offices, Rory's wife stood, baby buggy in front of her, hands squeezing tight on the buggy's push bar, her heart breaking. She watched as Abigail walked, dressed in a white fitted blouse with a thin yellow cardigan over her shoulders, pearls and a fashionable grey skirt on the other side of the street, and then enter the large doors of the Mayors offices to disappear out of sight. Her life was falling apart and she didn't know what to do. Rory hardly talked to her, looked at her, or touched her anymore. All his focus was now on the woman who had just disappeared through the door into the Mayor, and the man she had been in love with since she was eighteen years old, since she had watched him on the college football field, who was her whole life, was slipping away from her, and she didn't know what to do. Walking away, tears dripping down her cheeks from her soft grey eyes, Rory's wife made her way to the General Store, her shoulders hunched and head down. Her soft mousy brown hair tied back and her black Cloche hat emphasising her tightly drawn and fragile features. Inside the store she felt that people were watching her, judging her, talking between each other about her. Her shoulders hunched even more, shame layered upon her misery, she shopped as quickly as she could and then made her way home and out of sight as fast as she could, and into the lonely confines of the home she once shared with happiness with her husband, but now felt like a confining cloying and self made prison. * Jake ran through the trees, the pain in his side where the bullet had grazed him throbbing, his lungs bursting as he kept on going, trying to put as much distance between him and the clearing where the body of Granger and the two guards lay. At first the trees gave space to run through, the ground underfoot easy to run over, but as he ran deeper and deeper into the woods the trees grew closer together, bushes and undergrowth slowed and pulled at the cloth on his legs, twigs scratched at his naked torso, making him wish he had taken time to grab the prison jacket that he had left behind. Louisiana Heat Ch. 02 He felt he had been running for hours when he decided to take a rest and sitting down on a fallen tree he bent over and panted, getting his breath back. His throat hurt as thirst burnt it, and the pain in his side was now on fire, a continual ache. The sun barely made it through the foliage above him, making the air dark and thick, and he could hear noises around him, animal noises, but no sound of men following him, hunting him. Getting back up he started off, moving deeper into the trees, unaware of what was ahead of him, or where he was going. * Abigail entered the Mayors office, the smell of cigar smoke assaulting her nostrils and smiled at the portly man who stood as she came in. "Missy.....good to see you......sit down here." And the Mayor walked around his desk to hold the visitor chair out for her to sit in. "What can I do for you Miss Abigail?" Smiling over at the Mayor as he settled into his own chair she crossed her legs, letting her skirt ride up to show her knees, and slipped the thin little cardigan off her shoulders leaning forward so that the gentle swell of her breasts showed in the scoop of the thin blouse, before smoothing her hair in an intimate and provocative manner "It sure is hot Mayor today....." Clearing his throat the Mayor, eyeing her knees and the slim legs on display asked her "May I get you a drink Miss Abigail......maybe a glass of water or lemonade?" "Why Mayor that's so kind of you if it's not too much trouble." "No trouble." And he got up to pour a glass of fresh lemonade from the shiny polished wood cabinet to the side of the office, "and no need to call me Mayor......call me Claude.....after all we're friends Miss Abigail......call me Claude." Flashing a big smile she accepted the glass of lemonade he handed her, her fingers touching his for a second, and murmured, "Claude....thank you." before taking a delicate sip of the tart liquid, flashing a veiled look with her eyes over the edge of the glass to the man as he sat back down. "Claude.....I was wondering.....I know it sounds a little forward of me.....and I wouldn't ask but......" "What seems to be troublin' you Miss Abigail?" "Well it's a little difficult.....and I wouldn't come over and worry you.....I feel a little silly here Claude...." And she put down the glass on the desk in front of her and started to get up, "Maybe I shouldn't have come here....." "Please sit down and tell ol' Claude what's on your mind....." Looking around behind her she whispered, "Maybe not here Claude.....walls have ears....could you come over to my place.....I would feel safer to talk to you there.....say about three this afternoon....I have some information that I think you would be interested in.....but its private and I don't want anyone else to hear.....its about the road.....the money and.....well to be frank....I'm worried about others....three o'clock my place....you will come Claude?" and she picked up her cardigan and walked to the door, looking down at the fat man as he sat intrigued behind his desk, "I've always respected you Claude and feel I can trust you.....three o'clock." And then she was gone. * Rory smelt the bubble bath bottles in the Pharmacy, the smell of rose tickling his nostril, the fantasy of Abigail naked, and sunk deep in the sweet smelling bubbles in the big white bath filling his mind. Turning towards the counter, the bottle in one hand, he fished for the money with the other in the pocket of his trousers. The skinny Pharmacist took the bottle and money from Rory with his bony hands and told him, "Good choice, your wife will love this.......birthday present is it?" "What!.....no just a small gift." "It will make a sweet present for such a sweet lady....." Taking the now bagged bottle Rory just looked at the nosy man and told him, "Sweet lady......yes.....very sweet." and left the store, aware that the present wasn't for his wife but for his mistress. The pharmacist watched as Rory walked out of his shop. Shaking his head he smiled. He, like many others in the town had heard the rumours about the Accountant and the young Miss Abigail who used to be Rory's business partners girlfriend, and he made a good guess that the present wasn't for the young wife and mother of his baby at home, but for the woman that his wife and her friends were gossiping about only the other night. Seemed to him that later tonight after he had closed up the shop and got home he would have a nice juicy little bit of gossip himself to tell his wife. * In the clearing Broussard sat up, his head throbbing, a trickle of blood on his hand when he wiped it across his forehead. He could feel a big lump there, and it took him a while for his vision to clear. Sitting on his haunches he looked around and saw the other guard laying next to the still body of Granger who lay there on his back, eyes open in obvious death. Looking fearfully around he saw there was no sight of the six prisoners, and he could see the chains and leg irons lying about on the dirt around him. Scrambling around he looked for the two rifles but they were gone, and then he crawled over to the other guard, rolled him over and seeing the blood on the ground and on his skull bent over to see if he was breathing. Realising the man was dead, Broussard sat back shocked. A quick flash of fear ran into him that the escaped prisoners may be about, armed and ready to kill him, and then he made his mind up to hurry back to the stockade and get help, for the men were probably as far away as they could get, and he needed help to both find them and retrieve the bodies laying next to him. Standing up unsteadily he started the long trudge back to the stockade, leaving the body of Granger and the other guard laying there in the clearing under the hot bright afternoon sun. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 03 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * The Mayor stood on the front porch of Abigail house straightening his tie, checking himself out making sure his suit was brushed down and then wiping his face with his handkerchief, clearing the sheen of sweat off of the round overweight jowls and cheeks. Raising his hand he knocked on the door and waited for the door to open. Earlier in his office he had picked up signs that he thought was Abigail flirting with him, but he was unsure. She seemed to be subtly coming on to him, but he knew she was having an affair with Rory, and he was also aware that she had played that sucker Jake before that, and now she seemed to be coming on to himself. Maybe she thought she could play him, but he knew that his Mama didn't raise a stupid man, no Sir. Mama Gaudet had raised a canny man, a clever and careful man who knew how to manipulate and get what he wanted. A winner. And what he wanted was a good poke in Miss Abigail, and see what she was up to at the same time. Because he had an inkling that the young woman was up to something and he would play along if it would get him what he wanted. The door opened and the sweet smell of roses wafted out along with the sound of the radio playing Cole Porters 'Night and Day'. Abigail was dressed in a light summer blue dress, her arms bare, and the beginnings of the swell of her breasts visible in the scoop neck of the light cotton bodice. Claude stepped over the threshold and through the door, removing his hat and murmured, "Miss Abigail." Stepping back she smiled and replied, "Thank you for coming.......would you like an iced tea?" "Sounds fine......" and he walked further into the hall and followed Abigail into a light and bright front room where a large wooden ceiling fan moved the warm air around and large vases of blood red roses gave off their sweet smelling scent into the room. "What was it you wanted to discuss Miss Abigail.....what is it that's troublin' you?" Turning her head to look provocatively over her shoulder as she poured the iced tea from the pre prepared jug, she asked him, "Claude.....I can call you Claude?" "Yes Missy....Claude's just fine." Turning she handed him the tall glass of drink. "Claude, why don't you take off your jacket and get comfortable. It sure is hot today. Sit down and make yourself comfortable....." and she took her own glass and sat down on the chair opposite where the Mayor sat, who after placing his glass on the table, and placing his now removed jacket on the easy chairs back, pulled out a cigar from his vest pocket and started the process of lighting it. "Claude......I have always admired you.......you're a powerful man.......a clever and commanding man. I'm kind of in a difficult position and I need to be able to ask for your help......" Pulling on his cigar, great clouds of smoke rising up to join the wooden fan swirling around attached to the ceiling he sat back and relaxing raised on eyebrow, inviting her to carry on. "It's Rory....." Raising his other eyebrow he waited. "Well......" and she took a sip of her drink then placed it down on the coffee table alongside his, "I'm worried......" In the protracted silence that the Mayor deliberately gave her she continued, "As you know, Rory and I have been....close.......very close......and he has confided in me some things......things I think you would be at an advantage to know." Getting up and going around the table to stand next to the Mayor, she then sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, as if she was about to tell a secret and didn't want anyone else to hear. Leaning forward she placed her hand on his knee, the scoop of her bodice falling forward allowing Claude a deeper view of her breasts. "I'm scared......no one realises the truth about Rory.....his temper......his drinking......I thought he was different than he turned out to be......he's so brash.....talks too much.....is rough......not like you......I feel I could trust you.....a man like you that everyone looks up to.....so cultured....a real gentleman." And her hand squeezed his thigh gently. Claude felt himself harden, his cock twitching behind the material of his flies. "When he drinks he says things......like about what he has done on behalf of yourself and how you framed Jake." The Mayor cleared his throat. "Seems to me you were a little bitty tied up with what we all did to Jake......you're no innocent Miss Abigail." Sliding down onto her knees between the Mayors legs she slid her hands up both his thighs. "No Claude....not a complete innocent....but you know I like a man with power.....a man with style....a man with experience......Rory is young and stupid......he's talking too much.....has plans to rise higher in this town.....but he's no competition for you....." Her fingers started to unbutton his flies and Claude's arms spread out each side of himself along the arms of the chair, and as her eyes bore into his, the cigar between his fat fingers now forgotten, "I need protection of a man like you from Rory......I need a man that can fulfil me and what I want.......I can give you sweet release, tell you what Rory is up to.....what he is saying and to whom......" and she lowered her head down into his crotch and with her small hand lifted his now hard cock to her mouth. Claude's head dropped back, eyes rolling in his head with pleasure as her hot wet mouth slid up and down his rock hard rod, her tongue swirling over him, and the suction in her mouth pulling him further into the perfect cavern of her warm wet mouth giving him a blow job better than he'd ever had. Better than the ones the cheap whores over in the next Parish gave him on the odd times he went over there away from prying eyes, or the non existent ones his dried up wife of twenty years never gave him, or ever had or would. The exquisite pleasure peaked and he shot his wad into her mouth, then sat there knowing that this was going to be the start of a new partnership.......one in which he would have to watch her carefully if he was going to get everything he wanted out of her and walk away unscathed. Taking a long pull on his cigar and blowing out the smoke he smiled a calculating smile and asked, "So Missy......what is it that Rory is sayin' 'bout me that I need to be so damn careful about?" Doing up his flies Abigail smiled up at the Mayor through her eyelashes, "He says he has kept proof of what you've been up to.....proof about forcing the farmers to sell up at greatly reduced prices, and selling on the land, proof about the framing of Jake, and where all the skeletons, figuratively speaking is buried." "Did he now?" "He trusts me.....he thinks he can control me.....but I know that my future is safer in the sure hands of someone that has so much more experience.....if you know what I mean?" "I know what you mean.......so do you know where he keeps this information?" "No......but if you would take me under your wing, so to speak......make it worth my while.....maybe a little present.....a nice amount of cash.....I can find out where......I can give you what you want.....whatever you want." "Whatever I want?" "Whatever....." "That Ma Cher would be a very interestin' prospect......." And the deal was discussed and then struck between the two people, each believing they could play the other for whatever they could get.....neither really trusting the other. * The truck was loaded with the now picked produce, eggs harvested and fruit in tins and baskets, vegetables in crates in the flat back of the vehicle. Climbing up behind the wheel Frank looked down at Hannah as she stood swaying slightly in exhaustion, and he told her, "Forgit sortin' out horses, I'll do it whennin I get back'n from deliverin' this to town......wash up.....lay down an' rest....later'll be soon 'nough to do chores." Hannah looked up at her old and faithful farmhand and gave a weak smile, "Who's the boss here Frank. You just be careful in town.....do the delivery and bring back those supplies.....I'll see you then." Closing the trucks door she waved as he set off down the dirt road in the direction of the town, and then turned around and walked wearily to the door of the house. A nice long soak in the bath sounded good about now.......and then a small rest before she completed the rest of the never ending chores around the farm. Entering the bathroom she turned on the faucets and listened as the old plumbing made its usual cranks and wheezing sounds before the water sputtered out, precious water that came from the water tower and tanks now only half full compared to how they used to be before the levees were put in the rivers, lowering the water table and drying up her rice fields, once the main produce and life blood of the small farm. Stripping off her loose cotton blouse and baggy worn denim dungarees she stepped out of her panties and bra and stepped into the tepid water before blissfully laying back to cool off, and then picking up the worn old sponge and plain bar of soap she washed the sweat from working all day in the fields off of her skin before sinking back and lowering her face down under the water to wash her soft brown hair. * The woods were now turning into swamp with soft earth underfoot becoming squishy, small trickling bayou's and lots of tangled undergrowth under foot. Gripping his side which was a continual burning throb where the bullet had cut out a furrow of his flesh, and stumbling along lost, Jake made his way slowly forward, every so often looking over his shoulder or stopping to listen to see if he was being followed. Stopping and falling to his knees beside one of the slow moving bayou's running through the pungent earth he bent and scooped up water to drink and then sluice some over his head and shoulders to cool himself down. Sitting, legs crossed he looked at the wound in his side and noticed it had stopped bleeding but there was a definite swollen puffy redness around the wound. Infection was setting in. He needed to get to medical supplies and fast. Scooping up in his cupped hand some more water he carefully washed the wound as best he could before getting to his feet and crossing the water and carried on his way deeper into the swamp ahead. * Back at the compound Broussard who had made it finally back there, reported that they had been attacked by five of the convicts and that they had killed the other guard and the sixth prisoner, Granger, before escaping. He claimed that the ringleader was Jake Bailey and that he had tried to save the other prisoners from killing Granger but had been overpowered. A posse was arranged and climbing into a car, four men including an injured Broussard went back towards the clearing where the two bodies still lay. Standing looking down at the corpses and then picking up the discarded prison jacket laying on the ground where Jake had dropped it, it was decided to contact the main prison and get a couple of bloodhounds to get the scent off of the jacket and then follow the dogs as they tracked the missing men. Scooping up the dead bodies and placing them in the trunk of the car the posse drove back to the compound to get more organised for the chase and capture of the six missing members of the chain gang. * Darkness had begun to fall and utter exhaustion fell over Jake so that he was hardly making any progress. Looking around he decided climb up into a large tree to relative safety and get some rest. Once he was wedged into a high up area of the tree and had lain back, he closed his eyes and was out like a light. Sleep and exhaustion had taken over his body, so that as the night animals took over the area and came out looking for food below him he never noticed. * Rory walked into his home, slammed the front door and strode past his wife as she stood there, babe in arms, totally ignoring her. Striding up the stairs he flung off his jacket and suit vest and put the package of bubble bath down on the dresser, and then sat down on the end of the bed to remove his shoes. His wife had followed him up and now stood timidly in the doorway, a sad and mournful look on her thin face, her tearful grey eyes following him as he undressed ready to have a shower. "You're going out to her aren't you?......that woman?" He ignored her comment, continuing to remove his shirt, "You're going to meet her.....why don't you stay at home?.....what's happening to us Rory....we used to be so happy?" He gave a long hard look, derision in his eyes, "Happy?......I wasn't happy.....we were just existing?" "But......" He cut her off, his voice harsh, "But what!......look at yourself.....just look at yourself.....since the baby was born you've become a nothing......you're just a shadow of what a woman should be.....carrying around that crying brat......that look of 'oh so hurt martyrdom' on your face......a man needs a woman....a real woman....not someone like you." "You didn't used to think so." "I didn't have much option before....I wanted to fuck...you wanted to get married....now I want to fuck someone else.....get it?" Tears ran down her cheeks and she held the baby close to her, rocking in the doorway, "Please don't go out...stay here....I promise....." "SHUT UP......just shut up and get out of my sight." "But......." "SHUT UP......" "Please...." Rushing over to her, his face just inches from hers he screamed at her, his face red with rage, "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT OF MY SIGHT......." Jerking her face back as if she had been slapped, his wife stared at him, not recognising the man she had fallen in love with. It was as if someone had taken over Rory's body, someone that she didn't recognise, the complete opposite of the person she once had known. Turning on her heels she left the bedroom and went downstairs, laying the child down on the sofa where she sat crying her heart out as her husband carried on getting changed upstairs, making himself ready to go over to Abigail, the other woman in his life, and the focus of his obsession. * The Mayor walked into his house, kissed the cheek of his wife and sat down content. Soon the last farm would be his to sell on for a high profit to the county, he would have any incriminating proof of his crooked deals that Rory had, a wife that was respected throughout the county for her good deeds, he had high position and power in the town, money in the bank and his eye on the Governorship. And now he had a young mistress to see to his needs. He was indeed feeling a contented man. Leaning back he undid the buttons on his straining vest where it pulled across his round paunch, kicked out his legs and smiled to himself. * The Sheriff peered through the window of the old farmhouse, letting the shadows of the night hide him as he watched Hannah move about the room inside, her pink worn Chenille bathrobe pulled loosely around her slim long body. Licking his lips he watched as she sat down, the mug of coffee in her hands, as the robe gaped slightly and her long naked legs bent as she pulled them up onto the couch exposing her knees and thighs to his sight. The sounds of the countryside night surrounded him and he placed a hand against the wooden wall of the old house as he leaned forward, squinting through the gap that the curtains made as they covered the inside of the window glass. Her hair was still wet from the bath, the ends curling gently around her face and falling on her shoulders, and he yearned to be able to knock at the front door and then enter into the room, take her in his arms and kiss her like he wanted to, like he had dreamed of all these years. But his insides were in knots and he slowly moved away from the window and walked quietly back through the fields to where he had left the car, far enough away so that it couldn't be heard by Hannah when he started it up and drove away. The Mayor wanted him to burn down her fields, but he knew he couldn't do that. Not to Hannah. He needed to make her sell up and come to him. He could look after her once she sold the farm. He'd earnt enough money as Sheriff, and he loved her. Had for years. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 04 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * Jake woke up, every muscle in his body screaming. The pain in his side was like a hot burning as if a poker was being jabbed into him where the bullet had grazed him, and his head pounded, making thinking difficult. It was dawn and the beginning of the suns hot rays were penetrating the heavy foliage overhead lighting up the area where he lay wedged in the branches of the tree he had managed to drag himself up into last night to sleep. Easing out of the tree and dropping down to the ground Jake stood leaning against the bark, his stomach rumbling with hunger, his mouth dry. Kneeling down he scooped some water from the small Bayou nearby and washed his wound, drank and then splashed his face and shoulders to cool down and looked around trying to get his bearings. He'd forgotten from which direction he had come from, or to which direction he was headed last night before he climbed the tree to sleep. Turning on the spot he looked around and then made the decision to follow the running water to where it led. Slowly he made his way deeper into the swamp, the earth under his feet getting softer so that each step he carefully tested before he put his weight down on it. He knew that this area could become dangerous so quickly with its moss covered water that looked like land, but was deep and dangerous marsh land that could suck a man under, or hide the alligators waiting for their unsuspecting prey to stumble into their paths, and areas of quicksand so lethal that to step on one would mean certain death. Insects were biting at him and he slapped at his skin as they landed to suck at his sweat covered flesh, and he watched his feet so that he didn't trip up over the tangle of Cypress tree roots that covered the area, or step onto a snake that might be curled up between the creeping tangled roots. Gradually and slowly he made his way forward, the infection in his body building up, slowing his progress, as he trudged his way to what he hoped was freedom. * The four guards and the two bloodhounds stood in the clearing, Jakes prison jacket in one of the guard's hands, the discarded leg irons lay around on the dirt by their feet. Holding the jacket out to one of the dogs so that it got the scent, a guard told Broussard, "They couldn't have gotten too far by foot in this area. There's no sign of life for miles around to get help, and they'll be hungry and weak soon under this heat. We'll get them." The other dog was sniffing at the leg irons and then with his nose to the ground started to pull his handler towards the trees, whilst the bloodhound that had sniffed the jacket pulled in the opposite direction. "Looks like the bastards split up. Broussard and I'll take this direction.....you two go the other way and follow the other dog.....be careful, they're armed and dangerous....shoot to kill." Broussard had other ideas. He wanted to capture them and have some fun. Back at the stockade there were many ways you could punish a man. Long protracted and painful ways and he wanted to get the men, especially Jake Bailey who had hit him when escaping, and then watch him suffer. The four men split up, two going towards the trees where the four convicts had run to, and Broussard and another man who held the Bloodhounds long leash in his hand going towards where Jake had disappeared into the trees and was even now making his slow way through the bog like area. * Abigail stretched like a cat and smiled to herself, content and well relaxed after the long and hot early morning sex she and Rory had just had and she felt on top of the world. During the small talk in the small hours of the night, after they had both reached that part where the body no longer can get up the energy for more orgasmic highs, and limbs feel like they are unable to move, she had quietly led him to discuss the hidden information on the conspiracy and in what form it was. Rory had smiled and told her that it was hidden, but not where, and that it involved accounts, letters, notes of times, places, monies that changed hands and whose hands the money had ended up in. When she asked him why he had kept it he had kissed her nose and told her, "To protect us honey.....the men we've been doing the deals with....the very people who screwed the farmers and Jake wouldn't think twice about screwing us.....this stuff protects us....as long as I have it kept safe, they'll think twice about doing anything to us." "Where have you hidden it?" Kissing her nose again he told her, "Don't worry about that my little kitten....It's hidden and that's all you need to know." "But Rory who else knows where it is apart from you.....what if something happens to you and they go after me....shouldn't I know where it is?" Turning onto his back he smiled into the dark, "nothing's going to happen to me.....nothing at all." And he drifted into a contented and sexually exhausted deep sleep, Abigail lying next to him biting her lip and wondering how she was going to get the hiding place out of him. * Jake stumbled along, an inner heat of infection burning him up, weaving sometimes to the East, sometimes to the West, sometimes going South. Every so often he would take a rest, scoop up water to clean his wound, drink his fill and sluice himself off. After a while the Bayou seemed to deepen and widen and he jumped in and sat down in the water, carefully looking out for wild animals and Alligators, letting the water swirl around him, bathing him and cooling him. He looked at his hands and noticed that they were shaking. Fatigue and infection were sapping away his strength and he realised that he might die in this God Forsaken swamp. And no one would ever know. Climbing out of the stream with difficulty he carried on, following the water as it meandered its way deeper and deeper into the tangled trees, past the hanging moss on the Cypress trees, through the waist high marsh grass that grew in abundance, and carefully avoiding the odd snapping turtle sitting on rocks by the running water, as they sat sunning themselves. Suddenly he heard the sound of a barking dog behind him and the accompanying sounds of men, and picking up his pace ran at a lumbering, stumbling gait deeper into the trees, away from the water. After about five minutes he came into a clearing and there in front of him, about fifty yards away, was an old tumbling down and rotting house. A large expanse of water on the other side of it, and what looked like a Pirogue moored up against a protruding pole at the end of a rotting jetty in the water. Taking a step towards the wooden structure he felt his foot sink into the ground. Throwing himself back he fell with a hard bump, bruising his buttocks and twisting his leg. Twisting behind him he grabbed with one hand at a tangled root and with the other he held onto his own thigh and he pulled and pulled to release his foot and the bottom part of his leg from the sucking ground of quicksand. He could hear the sound of the men and dog getting closer and panicking he pulled and pulled, until slowly the cloying soft ground gave way and released his foot with a loud slurping plop. Crawling onto harder ground he stood up, a pain now shooting up his knee where it had twisted and he limped carefully around the area, testing in front of himself each step with a fallen piece of branch from a tree, using it as much as a crutch as a test for firm ground. When he found a piece of ground seemed unsafe he moved sideways until he found definite safe ground and he could make his way around the quicksand and over to the comparative safety of the overgrown area around the wooden house. The sound of the men and dogs seemed so close now as Jake limped over to the Pirogue and untied the fraying rope that held it to the wooden pole, and he climbed into the low sided boat, pushing off against the side of the bank with the oar just as a bullet whizzed past his head and a loud voice shouted out. "PRISONER STOP, OR THE NEXT BULLET WILL GET YOU." Raising his hands above his head he realised escape was now impossible and he watched as Broussard and another guard made their way forward towards him, a bloodhound at their side, rifles raised pointing towards him. He watched as the dog started barking and held back, the two men moving forward, the dog straining at its leash, the guard holding it pulling at it with one hand, the other hand holding the rifle pointed at him. Broussard had an evil smile on his face, his rifle held up with both hands pointed straight at his head. Both men's focus was on Jake, and they didn't notice where they were walking, and Jake watched as they made their way towards him, step by step moving closer, his heart beating hard in his chest, the feeling of defeat washing over him. Suddenly he saw the two men waver, the rifles in their hands drop as they lost footing and tried to steady themselves. Without watching where they were going they had walked straight into the quicksand, both feet of each man sinking down, sucked by the cloying and deadly shifting ground. The dog pranced back and forth barking and then took off disappearing into the trees as the two screaming men started to slowly sink deeper. Yells imploring Jake to help them reached him, and he knelt in the boat watching the guards sink deeper, noticing that they were now up to their thighs in the deadly quicksand. Broussard's voice changed from one of pleads for help to curses and vitriolic swearing and Jake sat back down in the low long Pirogue as it bobbed on the water and watched as the two bodies stuck in the sucking earth sunk slowly down to their grisly deaths, inch by macabre and chilling inch. The last screams he heard from Broussard's mouth before it disappeared under and out of sight were, "Rot 'n hell Bailey, you fuckin' bastard." And then there was a silence, and Jake lay back exhausted in the boat, taking some time to catch his breath and rest his mind against what he had just witnessed. After a while he sat back up and taking the oar in hand paddled himself away from the house, the quicksand, the memory of the two drowning men, and towards safety and escape. * The Mayor stood in his office, Sheriff John Millet standing in front of him, holding his hat in both his hands. "So is she going to sell up or what?" John looked the other man in the eyes and told him, "I told you I would sort it out.....but I need a little more time.....give me a week." The Mayor moved around behind his desk and sat down, lent back, and stared at the man before him who stood patiently waiting for an answer. He knew he needed the Sheriff to do his dirty work, knew the man was tangled up in the conspiracy up to his chiselled chin, but didn't trust him. Not one inch. During the last few years that he himself had been planning, then putting pressure and forcing the sell up of the small farms and then selling on the land at a good profit, he had used the Sheriff to be the one to put the pressure subtly on the farmers. But all through those years the man had managed to avoid pushing Hannah Campbell to sell up and now he was holding back again for some reason. After the long pause the Mayor told John, "Seventy two hours......then you get real tough....you burn the bitch out.....and if you don't do it.....I'll get someone else who will." John swatted his hat against his right thigh, squinted his eyes at the Mayor and placing his hat on his head told the fat man, "You keep away from her.....I'll deal with it." then turned and left, slamming the door behind him. Mayor Gaudet smiled to himself and settled further back, taking out a fat cigar and muttered to himself, "Well, well. So that's how the land lies. The man's in love." * After an hour under the overhead hot sun, his body, being run with an infection that was seeping at his strength, Jake paddled as best he could, occasionally scooping up water from beside the boat and trying to cool himself down. Each side of him the trees, hanging with moss and the entangled overgrowth of the swamp was opening up making the water wider and wider, and the sounds of the animals that lived in the swamp quietened as they grew farther away. Occasionally he saw the odd Alligator, swimming or floating close to the swamp edge and without realising it he lay back in the boat to rest and then floated away into unconsciousness. The Pirogue floated slowly along, pulled by the currents, down the River then past the new Levees that blocked the tributary Bayous that in the past had flooded the area and helped irrigate the now dried up rice fields that were the life blood of the small farms of the area. * Rory's wife had hidden and watched her husband leave his mistresses house after he had stayed the night. She watched as they kissed on the front porch as if he had all the right to do so and wasn't married with a young baby and then watched as he got in the car and drove away. Her heart broke, tears ran down her face, and the pounding in her head intensified. What was she to do? Divorce was not an option. She had no money of her own. What was going to happen to her? It was all out of her own control. Her husband now treated her as if she didn't exist, did want her. He spent all his free time with that woman and not with her and their child. She worried that everyone knew and stared at her. That the town was laughing at her. Turning around, her child in its buggy, she walked back from where she had hidden, back into town, back to the house she once carefully looked after but now neglected in her sorrow and depression. * In his office, his jacket removed, shirt sleeves rolled up, Rory sat at his desk, working on the local tax claim on Hannah's farm. Over the last two years of the depression local tax had been increased considerably illegally making it easy to close out small farmers and take their valuable land when they became delinquent in paying their taxes. Increasing the amount she was to pay from the real amount would ensure she would be unable to pay it. He knew the Mayor was in a hurry to take this last bit of land and sell it on, and this tax claim would put the extra pressure on her to sell up. Once she sold up and he, Rory, had his cut he intended to ask Abigail to move away with him. Away from this God forsaken town in Louisiana and go to New York where a man with his skills could get really rich. Where real excitement lay, night life, famous restaurants, the tall skyscrapers that were currently being built, Broadway and famous shows, a way of life Rory craved and wanted. Not this backwater where the heat was constant, small minds and small lives droned on each day. The only bright part was Abigail and her body and the bright steamy sex like last night, the sound of her laughter, deep and throaty that warmed him as they had rolled around in her bed last night. The memory of her laying back in the bath, the smell of the bubble froth and the sight of her body sunk into the white foam as he washed her body, his hands swirling the bubbles over her breasts, her belly....her sex. Abigail was his obsession and even now as he prepared the tax account to bring down one woman, his thoughts were of the other and what they had done last night and early this morning. His own wife, sitting at home, isolated and alone never entered his mind once. * The Pirogue floated in the heat on the shimmering water, tall trees and tangled earth each side of him, whilst Blue Herons watched with interest as it moved slowly past. Closer and closer the boat floated with the current to where the stream would meet another small Bayou before they joined and ran into the town miles away. Jake lay unconscious in the boat, unaware of where he was going, exhaustion, lack of food and the infection draining him of any strength. * Hannah and her farm hand Frank worked the vegetable fields with its Okra, Peas and Lima Beans, back breaking work under the hot sun. Hannah's hands were strong and she dug and turned over soil, an old watering can half full of water next to her, both for the plants and for herself. Once this field had been more than ten times the size it was with other farm helpers harvesting and tending the produce, but now it was at a size that she and Frank could manage. The produce just about bringing in enough money to help them to exist. Straightening up Frank asked her, "Miss Hannah, be a'right if'n I go over to the creek and check the Crawfish traps? Have us a good meal tonight if'n we got us a good catch, sell some in town." "Sure Frank.....take the truck......go sell some in town and bring back supper." And she watched as he left the field and walk over to the barn to pick up some more bait to put in the traps and then climb up into the truck and drive away. After about an hour she heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance and straightening up from where she tended a line of Lima Beans she watched as the Sheriffs car pulled up near the house, and then as the Sheriff climbed out. John Millet looked around and saw Hannah as she stood in the field watching him, and settling his hat on his head walked across the carefully tended area around the house and over to the field, and towards the woman who watched him approach with a careful stillness. She stood there a big old battered straw hat on her head, baggy overalls over a white cotton blouse and a scowl on her face, and John never thought he had seen such a beautiful and sexy sight. His heart took a leap as he got closer and he felt himself blush as he strode up to stand a few feet away from her. "Miss Hannah....." "Sheriff.....what can I do for you?" Looking around him at the fields, many dry and empty he shrugged and looked at her, "Looks like you're having trouble here. Notice fields are mostly barren. Looks like you sure are struggling Miss Hannah." "We're managing....." "Woman like you shouldn't be working out here in the fields under the hot sun. Should be in town, dressed in finery......looked after by a good man....." "Like I said, we're managing." Clearing his throat John looked down at his feet and quietly told her, "Miss Hannah......think about selling up.....think real hard.....there are people who want to buy....the offer you were given would make your life much better.....you wouldn't have to work like a common field hand in the fields.....I've admired you a long time Miss Hannah....I care for you....don't hold out...don't make them angry by holding out." "You threatening me John?" "No Miss Hannah." And he looked her in the eye and said, "I'm giving you advice.....accept the offer.....move into town....let me make sure you're alright." "I have no intention of selling my home to those developers, so that they can make a profit from my family's home. You tell them I'm not selling. You tell them this is my home and I'm not going." "Please Miss Hannah...." Turning around and continuing to tend to the plants she repeated to the man standing behind her, "You tell them Sheriff......I'm here to stay." John stood there for a few more moments, a part of him admiring her spirit, but for the most part worrying about her and what would happen if she didn't sell up. He then turned around and went back to the car, driving off as she continued to work, unaware of the tears that had formed in her eyes as she bent over working with the plants that were now her main income. Louisiana Heat Ch. 04 * Frank pulled the truck up at his favourite trapping spot close to where the two Bayous met, lots of tangled roots, long grass and rocks where the Crawfish could hide from their natural predators. He knew the Crawfish ran thick around here and pulling up the traps he had set early this morning he filled his sacks with the red squirming edible delicacy, refilling the traps with bait and lowering them back down into the water to catch more. After a while he noticed a boat floating haphazardly down towards him and as it got closer he noticed that there was a man lying still in the low slung boat, looking like he was dead. Quickly lowering his body onto the ground, Frank glanced around, half expecting more men to come out of the trees, but all was quiet and he carefully raised himself up and stared at the body in the boat. Half dressed the torso of the man bare and exposed to the hot sun, he noticed that the trousers were the distinctive black and white stripe of the Chain Gang prisoners. Standing up he watched as the boat continued to slowly float closer and then decided to wade into the shallow water and grab the boat. When he managed to get hold of it he stood in shock as he recognised the man in the boat. Jake Bailey. He knew him by sight from town. Had known about the trial for fraud nearly two years ago. Had heard the rumours and gossip amongst the farm hands from around that they thought the man had been framed, and that the wrong man had been sent down. Pulling the unconscious Jake out of the boat and dragging him to the shore he laid him out, checking to see if he was still alive. Seeing that he was, he carried him to the back of the truck, laid him out on the flat back, covered him up with some sacking and then hurriedly loaded the bags of Crawfish into the truck, making sure that the man was covered and couldn't be seen by anyone if they looked, and then made his way back to the farm. * Driving along in the police car on the old dusty dirt road, John saw the truck driven by Frank coming along in the opposite direction, The two vehicles passed each other, John watching the black man as he drove the truck past him, Frank staring ahead, praying the Sheriff wouldn't stop him in case he discovered the man hidden in the back, aiming for home and safety. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 05 This is a ten Chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * As he turned off the dirt road into the farm Frank hung out his head through the trucks window, shouting out towards where Hannah still worked in the field tending the vegetables, "Miss Hannah......Miss Hannah.....I needs help....Miss Hannah, over here!" Hannah straightened up from where she was working picking vegetables from the field as he drove towards the side of the house, and watched him get out of the truck and rush around and up onto the flat back where he started throwing the sacks and stuff onto the ground before he bent and struggling, picked up in his arms the limp body of a man. Throwing down the tools in her hands she ran towards where he was trying to get himself and the mans body down off the back of the truck, reaching him just as he slid down to the ground, and lowered the man onto the earth. "My God Frank who's this.....what's happened? Is he alive?" Kneeling down her field hand looked up from where he knelt next to the prone body. "Gets me some cold water Miss Hannah....quick." Hannah ran off to the pump and filled up a bucket of water and then, dragging it with both hands she brought it over to Frank and knelt down next to the body of the man, the skin of his torso glistening sun burnt and red, mosquito bite marks marring the firm flesh, smudges of dirt all over his lean and muscled body. She watched as Frank scooped water over the man trying to cool him down, splashing his face, neck and chest, and then using the drinking scoop in the bucket held it up to the mans head and dribbled water into his mouth. A deep moan emanated from the man and Hannah gave out a large breath realising she had been holding it since she had knelt down next to him, worrying that he was dead. "Miss Hannah we need's to get him in the house an' cool him down......looks to me like he's been hurt bad, there's fresh whip marks on his back and some kind of wound that's gotten 'fected in his side." Hannah then took a real look at the man laying, moaning and moving restlessly on the ground and saw that he wore convicts trousers and hard worn work boots. "Frank this mans a convict.....we should get the Sheriff.....he looks like he's escaped.....he could be dangerous." "Miss, he's names Jake Bailey.....I seen him 'round town over the years.....he was an accountant......word in town has it he was railroaded......we got to look after him....my people say he was a good man.....you send him back, he's a dead man." And he bent and lifted Jake up and staggered under his weight taking him up the porch and into the house. Hannah pointed to her parent's old room and Frank lay Jake down on the bed and turned to Hannah. "Your'n better leave me in here with him Miss, I needs to get these wet 'n dirty trousers off him and wash him down." "I'll get you some soap and water and some first aid equipment." And she left, closing the door behind her allowing Frank to strip Jakes dirty and wet clothes off of him. A knock on the door told him Hannah had the water and soap and after he covered up Jakes lower body with the sheet, he opened the door taking the bowl of hot water, soap and flannel from her. She looked past Frank to the bed and saw the now semi conscious man flailing about. "You need help Frank?" "Yeah Miss Hannah......thinks you can handle it?" Nodding she walked in and stood next to the bed holding out her hand for the wet soapy flannel and whilst Frank held Jake's flailing arms down. She carefully washed the dirt and sweat off his body, wincing when Frank turned him on his side giving him access to his back and the red welts and sunburnt skin, and the red swollen wound on his side. Abigail told Frank, "This needs to have the infection drawn out......I'll go and start heating a poultice to put on the wound in his side, that should draw out some infection, and I'll find the lotion for his back. You carry on washing the rest of him." Together the two people tended to Jake, and then Frank went out to continue unloading the Crawfish from the truck out of the heat and then cook up some for food, whilst Hannah placed cold towels on Jake to cool down the temperature running through his body. Once they had eaten Hannah told Frank to drive into town and see if he could sell the Crawfish to the local store and after he had left she took the remaining cooked Crawfish and started to make a Crawfish broth for Jake to try and build up his strength. * The knock on the door told Abigail that the Mayor had arrived. Walking to it she opened it and plastered on her face a big smile to welcome him in. The overweight man walked over the threshold of the door and entered the house, "Miss Abigail...." "Claude....." Without any ceremony the Mayor grabbed Abigail's breast as she closed the door and turned her around so that she faced away from him and he told her, "I've been waitin' since yesterday to get my hands on you Miss Abigail......" and his hands dipped down under the neckline of her dress and his fat podgy hands held and squeezed her breasts. "You got anythin' for me.....part from sweet release?" "Claude where are your manners?" and she struggled out of his clutch and straightening her clothes walked away from him up the hall and into the sitting room. The Mayor followed sat down adjusting his clothes pulled tight over the hard on in his crutch. "A drink Claude? I have iced tea." "You got any hard liquor Miss Abigail." "Mr Mayor.....what do you take me for?.....although the Volstead Act was repealed last year and Prohibition is no more, I'm a good girl and this is a dry house." Sitting back he looked at her with a cynical smile, "Miss Abigail, you're no more pure than an alley cat in a heat. You come on over here girl, give me that blow job I been dreamin' of and some information on that other man you are fuckin'.....and then give me some of the hard stuff you got hidden around here somewhere's." Putting her hand to her heart and showing a pained look of shock on her face she replied, "You wound me Claude......insulting me like that." Standing up, all pretence of the jovial man gone in an instance he strode over to her and slapped her face. "Drop the pretence bitch......get on your knees woman and start sucking." A shocked Abigail, cheek stinging, stared at the man in front of her. She had miscalculated enormously about him. The look in his eye was hard and full of intent. Taking a step backwards she shook her head, "Claude....." "All pretence gone Miss Abigail....on your knees.....I been thinkin' all night and I decided your gonna service me, get that information I need, and do as I tell you......I got that ol' boyfriend of yours put away workin' on a chain gang......framed him.....got him to take the fall to protect myself......I can do a lot more with you......that's the beauty of power....of position....of having money.....you're in no position to refuse me.....you do as I say and you're gonna be safe, but on my terms not yours.....you don't......I make sure your name is ruined, the town against you and framed for some kind of shenanigans.....how about prostitution?" Shaking Abigail stared in horror at the Mayor. "You wouldn't." "Try me." Slowly she sank to her knees, and Claude unbuttoned his flies. "That's a good girl Abigail......now we have a real understanding." * Jake drifted in and out of consciousness, the fever running through his body from the infection, dehydration and exhaustion. Hannah sat by him washing down his fevered body with cool cloths, fed him sips of water, and crawfish broth when he could take it. As she sat next to him tending him she stared at his body and face. In the past she had seen the farm hands stripped to the waist, working in the fields, their muscles moving under their skin. But had never been this close to a naked man before. Never touched a man like this before. And what a man. His body was lean but muscled, shoulders wide. The bites and marks marring his skin didn't take away the beauty of it in her eyes and she looked up to his face with it's flushed skin pulled tight with fever over a good strong bone structure, high cheekbones, strong chin covered in dark stubble, his black hair standing out where it was dirty from sweat and his time in the swamp. Hannah felt her heart turn over and a hot flush run through her body as she looked at the sick man in what had been her parent's bed. Never in her life had she felt like this. As she sat with him, tending him, he started to mumble, incomprehensible words. She leant forwards, wiping the cloth over his forehead, cooling him down. Suddenly his green eyes opened and stared up into hers, inches apart, and a hand came up and grabbed her arm, and she heard him say, "Abigail.......Abigail, is that you......Abigail." Before his eyes closed, his arm dropped back down to the bed and he went back into his deep sleep. * Rory opened up the filing cabinet and pulled out the drawer, placing it on the desk so that he could remove the packages taped to the back of the inside of the cabinet. Putting the bundle of papers and slim account books into his attaché case he put back the drawer and picked up the case, and walked out and locked his office. He had decided that keeping this proof of involvement of the Mayor and Sheriff in the conspiracy to defraud the farmers was now too hot to keep here in his office, and he was moving it into his home where he could hide it there. * Abigail sat staring at the Mayor as he stood over her, "I don't want to hear you tell me you don't know where that bastard you're fucking has hidden the stuff. You get it for me......I'll be back day after tomorrow. I expect you to have it for me.........you don't I get the Sheriff to pick you up for whoring your body out.......and I can get a load of men to testify that you propositioned and sold yourself to them........you understand?" Nodding she stared up at him, the look of horror in her eyes. "Good.......once you get that and give it to me we'll carry on with our little liason.......you get that Miss Abigail." In a quiet voice she told him, "Yes." Then he was gone and she cried into her hands. Twenty four hours ago she thought she had it all under control and that she would have two men wrapped around her little finger, and now she wasn't sure what to do and how to get out of the mess she found herself in. * Rory's wife sat rocking her baby in her arms in the rocking chair when her husband came storming into the house mid afternoon. She heard the door slam and then his footsteps as he ran upstairs. Getting up she walked to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see him unlock the attic entrance door and then see him disappear into the doorway and hear the key turn in the lock from inside. Listening to the footsteps above in the attic as he walked across, and then the noise of boxes and stuff stored up in the attic being moved around she panicked that he was looking for the trunk up there to leave her. After ten minutes the door opened and Rory came out, relocked it and putting the key in his vest pocket ran down the stairs and passed her without saying a word before he left the house, leaving her standing there feeling a fool. * Jake lay there in the bed, the feeling of cool cloths stroking his skin, easing the heat. Every so often he felt water at his lips and warm liquid spooned into his mouth. Wanting to open his eyes but too tired to do so he gave himself up to the gentle caring, the first real softness and tenderness he had felt for two years now. In his mind he thought it must be his Abigail. His gentle, soft and beautiful Abigail, and he smiled in his dreaming, remembering those balmy summer days that they dated that summer before all the madness exploded and he seemed dragged down into the living hell that the last couple of years became. At his side he felt the warm heat of something as it was placed over his wound, and gentle hands rubbing cool ointment onto the many bites on his skin. Giving himself over to the calming, caring hands he drifted into sleep, his mind gaining strength as was his body. * All night Hannah sat at his bedside, laying cool flannels on his brow to bring down the temperature, heating and placing fresh poultices on the wound, dabbing the healing ointment on the bites and on his sunburnt skin and red welts as Frank turned the man on his side for her to reach the skin on his broad injured back. As morning approached and the pale fingers of dawns light started to appear she drifted off to sleep sitting in the chair beside his bed, and that is how Jake got his first lucid look of her when his eyes opened a couple of hours later and he looked around finding her propped up in the chair beside him. Gingerly moving to sit up he grimaced as the wound in his side gave a dull ache, and the sore skin of his back rubbed against the clean cotton sheets. His tired gritted eyes looked around the room and then re settled on the woman slumped in sleep in the chair next to where he lay in the bed. She had dark shadows under her eyes marring the pale skin on her face. A few freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks, and soft brown hair that had escaped the ponytail straggled around her face. He looked down at his body, noticing the red marks of insect bites and reddened skin and lifting up the sheet saw the bandage on his wound. Looking further under the sheets he saw he was buck naked and glancing back at the sleeping woman wondered if she had stripped him down while he was unconscious. Suddenly he heard the noise of a door opening somewhere in the house and the sound of footsteps in the hall outside the bedroom door and getting ready to fight, even in the weak and exhausted state he was in, he sat up waiting for whatever was going to come through the door. A Sheriff, the prison guards, whomever. For he wasn't going back to that chain gang or the prison.....he would put up a fight or die trying. The door opened and a big black man walked through and then stopped still when he saw Jake sitting up in the bed, fists raised ready to fight. "Names Frank, Mr Bailey Sir," the big man said, "and there's no need to put your fists up to me.....you're safe here." Jake felt a soft hand settle on his shoulder and looked around into the soft hazel eyes of the woman who had been asleep. "Lay back and rest.....like Frank said, you're safe here....lay back.....you need to get well." "Where am I? Who are you?" "My name is Hannah...Frank here found you in the boat and brought you here to my farm......you have an infection from the wound in your side.....and a touch of sunstroke....would you like some water." and the woman picked up a jug and poured a glass of water on the small table by the bed and held it out to Jake. "Drink....we need to get more fluids into you....." Jake took the glass and with shaky hands lifted it to his mouth and drank down the tepid water, emptying the glass and easing his dry throat and mouth. While he did that the woman picked up a brown bottle and told Jake to turn around. "Your back has sunburn and this ointment will help to heal and cool down the heat in your skin from the sun and the.....ummm.....marks on your back." Giving her the empty glass he lay down and turned on his side facing the quiet black man who stood in denim dungarees watching and waiting, his dark black eyes never leaving Jakes. As he felt the cool lotion on his back and her gentle fingers stroking his skin with it he asked her, "Why are you doing this? How do you know me....." "Yessum Sir....we's know who you are Mr Bailey.....I's seen you 'round town in the past." Frank told him, as the soft gentle fingers rubbed the lotion into the skin of his back, easing the tight pull of the burnt flesh. Settling down into the soft bed on his side, his head starting to go fuzzy with the sudden draining of what little energy had had, Jake murmured "I'll just have a small sleep and then get on my way......I need to see Abigail......" Franks eyes met Hannah's over the body of Jake as he drifted off to sleep, concern in them. "Miss Hannah......I's need to speak with you....if'n you'll pardon and give me a moment." Walking around the bed and taking one last look at the sleeping man, his naked torso dark and golden against the pure white sheets, she followed Frank out into the hall and closed the door. "What is it Frank?" "We needs to move him soon as we can Miss Hannah.....the Sheriff has been nosing 'round the farm lately....no tellin' when he might turn up 'gain.....can't let him find Mr Bailey here....soon as he's able to move I can load him onto the back of the truck.....cover him up....takes him over to where my peoples live, down by the creek.....they'll do whats right by him....." "Do you mean help him escape?" "Yeah Miss Hannah......told you, talk is he was set up....you seen what the state has done to him.....can't send him back to that....got to help him on his way, but not so that you get into trouble." Hannah looked down at her feet, biting her lip and then said, "We'll move him in a couple of days.....in the meantime we keep him out of Sheriff Millets way and make sure he gets his strength back, here on the farm." "But Miss Hannah...." "Frank my minds made up...you go start watering the fields.....I'm going to catch up on a little sleep and then we'll start to build up your Mr Bailey's strength so we can move him on." Walking across the hall to her own room Hannah stripped off her clothes and lay down on her bed, falling into a deep sleep where dreams of a man making love to her flowed through her mind, and the man looked suspiciously like the man sleeping across the hall in her parent's bed. * Abigail paced back and forth in her house, running her hands through her hair, trying to work out what to do. How was she going to get Rory to tell her where he had hidden the information that the Mayor had demanded her to get within the next few days. What if Rory wouldn't tell her where it was? She didn't want to be beholding to the Mayor, screwing him when ever he wanted, and for no money. That wasn't her plan. Nor did she want to be arrested for being a whore....that would be horrendous, and she guessed he meant what he said. So what was the solution? She wished the Mayor was dead. If the fat old bastard was dead then she would be free. But how could she make sure he ended up dead? And in the next few days. That was the problem. One she had to make plans for and fast. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 06 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * Jake woke up, his stomach rumbling. He sat up and looked around the bedroom looking for his prison trousers, but couldn't find them. Carefully getting out of the bed, he stood, pulling the sheet around himself like a toga and walked carefully over to the old walnut wardrobe on wobbly legs and opened it. Inside were clothes, a musty smell drifting out from them to him. Reaching in he took out a pair of old worn work jeans and a light blue, frayed at the cuffs and collar, cotton shirt and slipped them on. The jeans were a little tight and short on his long legs, and the thin cotton shirt he slipped on rubbed the sore skin of his back, so he left it hanging open loose, and on bare feet he went to the door and carefully opened it, listening out for a few seconds before going through and walking down the hallway towards a door at the end that he opened into a large sitting room, an old sofa standing in front of him on a threadbare rug that covered a wooden floor. "There you are...." He turned at the sound of the soft voice and saw the woman standing there in a doorway leading off into what he guessed was the kitchen, the smell of cooking eggs drifting out at him making his stomach rumble loudly. "Sit down over there..." and she pointed to a scarred wooden table at the end of the room, "I'll bring the eggs out.....would you like some coffee?" Nodding he looked down at the clothes he had dressed in, "I'm sorry....I took these from the wardrobe....I couldn't find...." "Its ok...they were my fathers....sit down....." and she disappeared into the kitchen, the sounds of her movements as she worked coming out through the doorway. "My names Hannah by the way, how are you feeling?" he heard her say from the kitchen. Walking over to the table he sat down at the end, shrugging his back to stretch the muscles under the skin, "A little raw....." "I need to change the poultice and clean out your wound......I'll do that after you've eaten." And she came out carrying a plate of scrambled eggs and a steaming cup of coffee. "I hope you like it black....Frank hasn't brought in the milk from the cow yet....we're running a little late today on chores." Placing the plate in front of him, she stood there watching him. "Thanks, blacks fine." And picking up the fork on the plate he took a forkful of the fluffy yellow pile of eggs and placed it in his mouth, "God this is good......I haven't eaten eggs for nearly two years....." and scooping up more eggs and sipping at the hot coffee he ate. Hannah smiled and walked back into the kitchen, giving him some space to eat and to give her some space to calm down. Just now when she saw him standing there, the tight jeans outlining his slim hips and long legs, the open shirt revealing a strip of warm skin, and the definition of his muscled chest, had made her heart turn over, and a sudden heat had risen up her chest and down from her belly towards between her thighs. The memory of her erotic dream from last night came flooding back and she leant over the big farmhouse sink, eyes closed, and the flush of embarrassment rushing through her. She heard his deep voice call out, "When I've finished this I'll be on my way.....sorry for making you run late on the chores." Pushing away from the sink she walked back into the room, looking over at him. "You're not well enough yet....you're wounded, you've still got some infection....." Putting down the fork he looked over at her and in a softer tone said, "I can't stay here....I'm an escaped convict as I assume you've guessed from the clothing you took from me...if they find me here...." "They won't....besides where do you think you're going to go....?" "I know someone in town that will look after me.....she's my girl....at least she was before I was arrested." "And how do you suggest you get there....?" Straightening up, shoulders back he told her, "I'll walk..." Laughing lightly in an ironic way she replied, "You're not strong enough....the infection will have you on your knees before you've walked a mile......and you'll get noticed and then caught before you get there....." "Aren't you afraid of me.....after all I'm an escaped convict from a chain gang....you don't even know me or what I was accused of. I could be dangerous." Walking over and sitting down opposite him at the table she told him, "I know who you are.....Frank told me. I know what you were accused of....Frank told me that too. He also said that a lot of people say you were set up. I'm not afraid of you Mr Bailey.....finish up the eggs and then I'll see to your wound...." Rising up she leaned forward and told him, "Frank knows people who will help you to move on to safety once you get your strength back, until then you're safe here." Jake looked up into her soft brown eyes, a frown on his face, "Why would you do this for me?" "Because I know what it is to be between a rock and a hard place, to be lonely with no one to turn to, unsure who to trust. I don't know if you are really innocent....." Heatedly he interrupted her, "I am..." "....but I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt......make sure you recover...and then let you go on your way......" Quietly he told her, "Thank you." And then he watched as she walked out of the front door leaving him sitting there, the plate of half eaten eggs going cold as he felt the release of tension that had engulf him for the past two years lesson considerably from his body. * The sheriff put the phone down on his desk and leant back in his chair. His hat hung on the hat stand opposite the desk there in his office, the ceiling fan moving slowly above him, trying, and losing on giving a little bit of coolness in the small confines of the room. The caller on the other end of the line had been from the sheriff in the main town fifty miles up North to warn him that Jake Bailey had escaped from the chain gang, killed a guard and was possibly armed, dangerous and heading his way. Getting up from his desk, adjusting the belt and holster around his hips he walked out the office, grabbing his hat from the stand as he strode past. His first stop would be the Mayors, the next Abigail Roseaux's, and finally Bailey's ex business partner Rory Kendal. If Bailey was heading this way he was sure to try to deal with the four of them, because after two years, eighteen months on a chain gang, he surely would have put two and two together by now, and worked out that the four of them were responsible for his incarceration, and would be out for revenge. Striding down the street he made his way to the Mayors office, and stalking past the two secretary's sitting in the outer office, ignoring their squeaking protests, he pulled open the door and told the Mayor, "We got a problem.....a real big problem." Claude looked at John's face, then at the women apologising behind him for letting him come through without permission and told them, "It's alright Miss Sarah, Miss Grace.....Sheriff and I need to talk." After the two women had closed the door, John stalked over to the desk and growled, "Bailey has escaped.....he's thought to be on his way here." Claude stared up at John, a full thirty seconds stretched out between them in silence before John exploded, "You know what that means don't you?" "Yeah....that you will find and arrest him, and send him back. Voice raising John hit his hat against his thigh with his right hand in frustration and then leant on the desk and with teeth clenched spelt it out to the Mayor. "Two years....two fucking years....you don't think he hasn't gone over it again and again in his head.....laying there at night chained up and with nothing else to do but pick it all apart in his brain....how did his name end up in the incriminating paperwork?....how did his signature end up all over the place?.....who had the means of getting him signing documents he didn't remember signing?.....who placed evidence in his desk were it as found?.....who could have set him up?" Smiling the Mayor told John, "So he'll realise it was his partner....." "And who got the documents into his house where they were found...?" "Ok Rory and Abigail.....not us" "He'll have worked out who placed the money in the trunk of his car....me that's who when I searched it." "Not necessarily...." "You fucking don't get it Claude......he comes after Rory and Abigail....they talk....we're dead in the water." Getting up Claude walked around the desk to stand in front of John, "Then you don't let him get to them John......you get him and kill him on sight.....problem solved." "And what if he gets to them before I get to him?" "Then you kill them and him, and make it look like he killed them and you took him out resisting arrest." "Just like that?" Patting the agitated man on his back Claude smiled, "I have faith in you John." Stepping back and shrugging off Claude's hand John told him, "I've done a lot of things for you Claude, but I've not ever killed for you......and I don't intend to start now." "Think about it boy.....alternative is you end up takin' Bailey's place on the chain gang.......I can see it now....you and the other convicts......everyone knowin' you used to be a sheriff for the county......how long you think you'll survive? No this is the only way.....make it look like Bailey killed the two of them and then was killed by you in the course of your duty tryin' to apprehend him......they'll end up giving you a medal....you'll be a hero." "And what will you do.....how are you going to get your hands dirty Mayor." "Protectin' your butt." * Rory hurried up the steps to Abigail's house, anticipation in his loins, only to have the door opened before he got to it and a tearful Abigail throwing herself into his arms and sobbing into his shoulder before he had a chance to ask himself what was happening. "He threatened me....." she sobbed, "he hurt me.....told me I had to do what he said or he would tell lies about me and make sure I would be ruined......" Shocked Rory's arms tightened around her and led her sobbing into the house, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. "Who hurt you, who threatened you?" The door closed behind them and the sweet smell of roses settled around him as the woman clinging to him cried into his chest. "Tell me sugar, who threatened you?" Looking up into his eyes, hers full of tears, her hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket she whispered in a broken voice, "Claude.....Claude Gaudet......the Mayor.....he came over......I thought he just wanted to talk....but he threatened me....told me he wanted to fuck me.....gave me a choice.....I can say yes or if I say no he would ruin me.....oh Rory what am I going to do......what's going to happen to me......he can do what he says he'll do.....I love you.....I don't know what to do.....you have to help me." Rory listened, a growing horror and fury building. "I'll go over there to him......I'll fucking rip his guts out and tell him to leave you alone......" and he started to turn around to leave. Holding onto his lapels with a death grip she pulled at him, stopping him from going, "Rory......no please don't.....he'll then want revenge on you if you confront him....God knows what he can do to you.....he has the power to do what ever he wants...." "I've got the goods on him remember....he won't do a thing....I'll tell him I'll make sure that the right people gets the goods on him and what he's been up to....." "You do that and he'll tell them about our involvement.....I love you.....I'm going to have to give in and save you and me.....oh God I don't want to.....but it's the only way." "You're not going to.....I wont let you." "What else can I do....what can we do?" "I need to think about it." They walked into the main room and sat down, Abigail clinging to Rory as if she would drown if she let go and she whispered, "If only he was dead......." The whispered words hung in the air between them. * Jake sat on the porch watching Hannah scatter feed around the hen coop, then gather eggs. After breakfast she had changed the dressing on his wound as he sat on the side of the bed and she had gently spread the cooling ointment on his raw back and shoulders. Her fingers seemed to leave a tingling trail on his skin wherever she touched and his stomach muscles seemed to tighten in his belly as his groin tightened. It had been a long time since he had felt a woman's tenderness and the smell of the fresh soap she had used to wash herself with had swirled up into his nose from her. He had looked down at the top of her head as she had bent over next to him, her head down near his lap as she had placed the warm poultice over his wound and bandaged it in place. A deep groan had erupted from him as erotic thoughts had exploded in his mind at the sight of her head bent down near his groin and she had looked up at him saying, "I'm sorry did that hurt, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'll try to be more careful." A red flush had spread across his cheeks in embarrassment and he just shook his head and told her it was ok, that the poultice wasn't too hot. But the thought of her and the sexual need for relief had now been planted in his mind and now as he sat watching her feed the chickens he started to take more notice of how she looked and how she moved. She was very slim, long thin arms and body encased in a plain cotton blouse and baggy denim worn jeans, her breast small, a long thin neck holding her head high, her brown hair pulled back to reveal small shell like ears and a soft nape that some loose straggly hair clung to in the heat. Jake felt himself harden as he watched her and shifted on the old saggy porch swing remembering noticing the spread of freckles on the skin of her nose, cheeks and top of her chest as he had sat on the bed earlier as she tended to him. He thought of Abigail and compared her to Hannah. Abigail with her lush breasts, smooth clear skin, rounded soft body, easy laugh and those almond shaped brown eyes that he had used to love to drown in, and suddenly he stood up and walked over to where Hannah bent over picking up eggs from the nests. "I need to go into town....see my girlfriend......I'll creep into town tonight, I'll be careful not to be seen and caught, but I need to see her." Hannah felt her heart plummet at the mention of his girlfriend and she stood up. "Wait until at least tomorrow night....at least until you're a little stronger." She wiped the perspiration from her brow as she straightened up, "Tomorrow night isn't that far away." Jake watched fascinated as a trickle of sweat made its way from her neck, down her chest to disappear into the cover of the thin white blouse. His response to the small trickle was a like a powerful punch to his gut and his eyes stayed glued to where the trail of perspiration had disappeared as he murmured an agreement to her statement without realising he was agreeing. Hannah stood watching Jake as he stared down towards her breasts which she felt swell and tingle, and then felt her nipples harden. She saw his eyes darken; the pupils almost completely filling up the whole of his eyes and then unconsciously lick his lips,. Then those smouldering eyes finally rose up and met hers, and she saw the raw need in them for sexual release. Then the powerful thought filled her, he wanted her. A man wanted her. A man she was attracted to wanted her. If she took the chance she would not die a virgin, totally untouched. He took a step backwards, and she stepped forward towards him, the basket of eggs forgotten in her hand dropping to the ground, a few of the eggs cracking, and Jakes hand drifted up to raise towards her, hand out inviting, his eyes never leaving hers as he took another step backwards. The air around them seemed to crackle with a different type of heat than that of the heat of the sun. Hannah's hand rose up and as she moved forward their hands touched and he closed his warm fingers around hers taking the joining of their hands as agreement, and they made their way to the house, he walking backwards slowly, her following his lead, hands joined, breath held, heart beating fast in her chest, chores forgotten as she drowned in his eyes. Drowned in the anticipation. Without any sound they made their way to the bedroom where he had slept, and she had tended him through the night, and as they stood by the side of the bed, his face bent down to hers, taking her mouth in a deep wet and passionate kiss. Jake felt her arms rise up and snake around his neck carefully, rubbing against his sore skin, but as the kiss deepened, tongues swirled against tongue, and lips slid over moist lips the slight pain seemed to disappear and all his focus and concentration seemed to be on the woman in his arms and the throbbing in his genitals. His hands swept up the slim body, up her ribs and around to cup and squeeze the small breasts that seemed to fit the palm of his hands as if they were just made for him. He swallowed the small moan she made as his hands rubbed and squeezed the tight globes and then his mouth left her mouth and kissing and licking his way down her slender neck he made his way down to where he had watched the trail of perspiration before disappear. Tension build inside her, like a tight spring waiting to explode as his mouth ran over her skin, and his hands held and squeezed her breast, that seemed to have become so very sensitive, her nipples inside the cups of her brassiere swelled even more, hardening like bullets and her hands ran into his hair trying to pull his head down so that his mouth could close over the turgid tips. Undoing the top couple of buttons of her blouse, Jake dipped a hand into the bra and uncovered her right breast taking the tight nub deep into his mouth and sucking, his tongue lathering the teat making her cry out as the exquisite feelings in her breast and nipple became almost unbearable. Without realising it the two of them drifted backwards to lay down on the big soft bed, his face buried in her chest, her blouse becoming more undone as his mouth did magic things to her tingling skin, his teeth gently closing over the nipple, nipping and worrying it as his fingers found and pinched the other one. Her body arched back; giving access to wherever he wanted as his mouth, teeth, hands drove her upwards in a new and never experienced before pleasure. The ache in his side forgotten, the pain in his sunburnt skin forgotten, the slight fever and dizziness replaced by the full fever of sexual need, Jake removed his clothes and hers, his body burning with total wanting, his movements becoming hard, strong, fast and urgent. His hands swept down her body finding her mound and his fingers rubbed at the wetness between her thighs, his mouth travelled down her slim body over pale skin sprinkled here and there with freckles, the smell of her, fresh soap and her unique scent filling his head. Moving up he raised his body over her, his knees spreading her thighs wide, and in one strong push he slid his hard male cock into the tight wet hole, meeting a little resistance, but he was too far gone to stop or take notice of her deep gasp as he broke through her maidenhead. His body slid slowly and deeply inside her, long slow thrusts, as his eyes watched hers. Watching as her eyes changed from one of pain and shock to one of pleasure, and he watched as her eyes showed her building orgasm shine out at him, as he felt her tighten fast around him as he rode her. Louisiana Heat Ch. 06 Pleasure wound its way through her body, starting at the swollen flesh of her sex, into her belly, across her nerve endings, through her muscles making them tighten until all she felt was an exquisite building of pleasure as he slid deep and strong inside her. Tighter and tighter the feelings coiled as if a spring was winding itself up deep inside and then it peaked and exploded in colours and feelings and her breath seemed to stop in her lungs. Jake followed her through, his seed pumping into the vibrating muscles enclosed around him, pulling him down into a deep well of satisfaction from which drained every last bit of his energy and he collapsed on top of her, his body limp and heavy as he drifted back down into oblivion. * Rory sat on the sofa next to Abigail running his shaking hand through his hair, "There has to be another way...." "What other way?......he'll ruin both of us....." "I've got the proof....." "Proof that we're both involved!" "The threat should be enough." "And then we have to look over our shoulder the rest of our lives wondering...." "I can't do it.....I'm not a killer...." "It's him or us." "Abigail I can't...." "Yes you can....you must....." "I can't..." "Do you want him abusing me? Do you care for me so little....? I thought you loved me." Turning more towards her he looked her in the eyes and told her, "I do....I love you....I just can't do it." "You can and you will......do you have a gun?" "Yes but......" "Where is it?" "What?" "The gun.....where's the gun?" "It's at home..." "Go and get it......you have to do it by tomorrow night." "I can't." "Rory get the gun.......kill the Mayor.....then we'll be free." "I can't...." "Of course you can......shoot him as he walks home from his office tomorrow night.....hide in the shadows of the alleyway by his office....make your way back here without being seen....I'll be your alibi....we were together when it happened....no one will be able to prove otherwise....then all our problems will be over. We'll be free....you get a divorce and we can be together forever." "Abigail....." Leaning over she kissed him, "Do it Rory and we can live happily forever after....together....just you and me......I love you." He was kissing her when the knock on the door made them jump. Looking at the door they wondered who it could be. Louisiana Heat Ch. 07 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * Abigail stood pushing Rory towards the door, "Answer it you fool....." Walking towards the door he heard the person outside knock again and call out, "Miss Roseaux, its Sheriff John Millet....." Rory turned around a look of horror on his face and hissed, "Sweet Jesus it's the Sheriff.......he's come to arrest us." Pushing past him she hissed, "Don't be stupid Rory.....we only just started to discuss it....no reason for him to come and arrest us.....not unless he ends up arresting himself as he's in up to his neck in the other stuff." And she gave a hard shove at Rory and he opened the door taking a deep breath, "Sheriff.....come on in and get out of the heat....what can I do for you." Removing his hat John nodded to Rory, not at all surprised to see him there as he knew the two of them were having an affair, though he thought the man a bastard for what he must be putting his young wife through, especially as she had only months before had their child. "Can we go somewhere and sit down.....I need to have a talk with the two of you?" "Sure." And leading him into the main room Abigail sat down on the sofa. "What's up Sheriff?" Looking at Rory and noting how uncomfortable the man looked and then at Abigail he said, "Jake Bailey escaped from the prison Chain gang three days ago. He's thought to be heading this way." Rory stood up like a shot, "Escaped!" "Yeah....they've got men trying to track him, but he was hiding out in the swamps and it's difficult. Men are coming down later today to see me and they're sure they'll get him, but I wanted to let you know in case he tries to contact either of you. If he does make contact in any way, let me know, and we'll pick him up." "He's dangerous." "I don't think he'll try and hurt you Miss Roseaux......Bailey was never violent in the past ....and he was set up by us....I need to get him and get him fast......" "SHIT...SHIT...SHIT." Standing up and looking at the agitated Rory Kendal as he paced back and forth swearing the Sheriff said quietly. "Come outside with me Kendal, I need to have a word with you in private." Once the two men had walked outside and the Sheriff had replaced his hat he asked the other man, "You got a gun?" "Yeah, why?" "Start carrying it...I don't suppose its occurred to you that Bailey has worked out who set him up two years ago.....and he's probably coming straight for you." * "Listen sugar, this could be the answer to our prayers." Looking at Abigail as if she was mad Rory pulled at his tie to loosen it. "We can get rid of all our problems in one complete swipe......you shoot the Mayor, just as we worked out.....everyone will think its Jake....he's escaped, thought to be on his way here......I can say I saw him running away from the scene of the crime.....they're after him anyway....they'll probably shoot to kill. No one will ever suspect it's you.....the problem of the Mayor will be wiped out....Jake either killed, or apprehended...." "What if they capture him and he starts talking...tells the police his suspicions if he has any about being framed?" "They won't believe him now...they didn't two years ago...." Rory stood looking down at her, his head feeling like it was going to explode. Abigail put her hand on his arm, and looking up into his eyes whispered, "You can do it Rory, go get your gun......everything is going to be alright." * Hannah lay on the bed, her body and hands pushing the heavy body of Jake off of her. The wound in his side had started to bleed slightly and he lay there a sheen of perspiration over the skin of his back, chest and arms, asleep in a mix of sexual exhaustion and a slight fever. She lay looking up at the ceiling, her body was feeling like it was floating on a soft cloud, muscles relaxed with the residue of pleasure, the swollen flesh between her thighs sticky and wet and a feeling of being slightly bruised. Her first time had been wonderful. Everything she had dreamed about. Her nipples still tingled where Jake had suckled, pinched, licked and bitten, and the skin on the side of her neck felt slightly raw where his rough stubble covered chin had rubbed as he had kissed and nibbled the side of her neck and behind her ear, a place she had never realised how sensitive it was before now. Turning her head she watched Jake as he slept, the dark black long lashes of his eyes laying in a small curve above the sharp high cheekbones, his mouth slightly open as he breathed. Smiling a big smile she turned on her side and drifted off to sleep next to him, content and happy, no longer feeling unfulfilled and unloved. * Rory's wife sat in a miserable heap on the sofa in her front room, the drapes pulled closed, tears running down her cheeks, the depression settling deeper upon her caused by looking after a new baby, her husband flaunting his affair in front of the town and herself, and his wounding cruel treatment towards her. Rocking back and forwards on the cushions she felt that life wasn't worth living, all her dreams having shattered at her feet. Picking up the baby she wrapped him up in a white shawl and leaving the house walked quietly next door and asked her neighbour if she would be so kind as to look after the baby for the afternoon whilst she went shopping. The neighbour readily agreed taking the baby into her house and Rory's wife walked back into her own home, going to the closet in the bedroom where she knew Rory kept his gun. * John Millet went back to his office and waited for the law officers that were coming down to see him about the escaped Jake Bailey. He settled back in his chair behind his desk and thought about Hannah and how much he wanted her. He knew he couldn't burn her out like Claude wanted, and he also knew if he held on she would soon have to sell up the land, or the bank would take it back on default on taxes. Daydreaming about her he didn't see the Mayor getting into his car and drive off in the direction of Hannah's farm about twenty five miles south of the town. * Hannah drifted awake, the tickling feeling of something feathering across her face. Opening her eyes she looked up into the deep green eyes staring down at her, and saw the feeling was from Jake holding a lock of her hair that had escaped from her hairclip and was being stroked over her face by his hand. In a quiet soft voice he asked her, "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?" Blushing she tried to sit up and turn away from his intense gaze, but his hand moved from her face and held her still. "It didn't seem to come up between the hen coop and the bed.....we didn't exactly have any deep conversations.....you and me....it just seemed to happen." "Did I hurt you?" "No...." "I'm sorry...." "Don't be..." "Why me?" "Why not?" "I'm a wanted man; I can't stay around....." "I understand that and I'm not asking you to.....just stay long enough to get completely well and your strength back, then Frank will take you to his people and they'll help you." "I'm innocent..." "I know..." "I want to clear my name..." "You can't stay around here to do that, they'll catch you and they won't listen." "I have someone in town who I believe will help me." "Who?" Turning onto his back and looking away from her he told her, "Abigail Roseaux....she was my girlfriend....I was going to propose to her...I was arrested before I had the chance.....but she'll be able to help me clear my name...." turning back to her he growled, "In prison I had time to think things through...I think I was set up by my business partner Rory Kendal....Abigail will help me if I can speak to her." Sitting up and pulling the sheet around herself Hannah tensed up, "And if you prove yourself innocent with the help of your girlfriend?" She felt his hand stroke down the curve of her shoulder, a gentle soft stroke, and then she felt him sit up next to her and then his lips trail down where his fingers moments before had stroked. "I don't know.....I haven't thought what will happen after that." And turning her face with his hand he bent and kissed her, "Let's just live with what is now for the time being." Leaning over her he gently eased her back onto her back and raised himself over her, his warm skin moving against hers as he kissed her deeply his hand sweeping her slim body until he reached her mound and gently rubbed between her flesh that seemed to blossom for him at the first touch. Breathlessly she told him, "I ought to change your bandage...." His voice replied in a deep soft growl from deep in his chest that made her bones melt, "Later.....much later." And then she gave herself up to the new feelings that his body, hands and mouth made her feel, swirling down into a vortex of pleasure that then rose up and peaked before he entered her body with his own bringing her back to the peak and beyond. * Rory opened his front door and quickly strode up the stairs to the bedroom where he came to a shocked stillness at the sight of his wife standing in front of the open closet on a chair, the gun he was about to get in her hand. She stood on the chair, her body turning halfway towards him, her shaking hand with the gun in it turning with her body towards him. He took a sharp step backwards and without realising it said, "What the fuck are you doing?" With one hand holding onto shelf inside the closet she turned totally towards him and lifting the gun up towards her head shouted at him, "It's what you want isn't it? Me out of the way." Tears streaming down her face she continued, "Making room for that woman to take my place....well I'm fed up.....I can't compete.....have her....." and she lifted the gun up to point at her head, "You don't love me anymore....there's nothing to live for...." And she pulled the trigger. * Claude drove up the old road, the dust swirling up as the Black Ford Coupe ran at a steady forty over the rarely used, bumpy, and never kept up, bit of road. He passed on the way one of the old homesteads that he had bought from an old couple at less than rock bottom price, and smiled when he thought of the enormous profit he had made selling it on to the county. Further down the road, about two miles, on the other side of the road the beginnings of the wide water of the bayou came into view. Lush foliage on the other side of the water grew thicker as he drove on down, with big Cypress trees dripping with hanging moss hiding much of what lay behind. 'Fuck the Sheriff,' he thought to himself, 'He, Claude Gaudet was going to have a word with the stubborn Miss Campbell and explain the facts of life to her. And if she still held out, tomorrow night he would come out himself and set light to the fucking fields and burn her out.' * Hannah sat next to Jake on the side of the bed, washing out the wound before placing the fresh dressing onto it. "You need to keep still and not start it off bleeding again. The wound needs to start knitting." "A little bit of bleeding should do it good and clean out any dirt that's left in there." He then winced as she started to smooth the ointment onto his sunburnt back and the marks left from the beating days ago. "We could go back to bed again.....when we're rolling around there I forget the pain in my back." Laughing she carried on smoothing the liquid onto his back, "You need to rest." "I need to catch up on the last two years of being celibate." Biting her lip as she smoothed the last bit of ointment on his back she felt a pang of sadness, realising that for him she had just been a release, whereas for her what had occurred between them meant so much more. Getting up she walked to the door and turned around, "I need to get on and help Frank do some work around the place, you lie down and rest. I'll wake you up for supper." And then she was gone. * The trigger on the gun made a loud click, but nothing happened. Rory's wife stood there, eyes scrunched up, barrel of the gun at her temple, then heard her husband say as he pulled the gun from her hand, "You stupid bitch, couldn't even do that right.....the gun was empty....I don't store it loaded you idiot." And she felt his arm push past her as she stood there shaking on the chair as he reached in the closet and pulled out a brown cardboard box, and then left her standing there. * The two men sat opposite John sipping their coffee. One of the law men had done all the talking. He was a grizzled man of about fifty, his broad shoulders and barrel chest belying his age, his hair an iron grey, eyes a grey flint colour. Explaining to John that there were men going through the swamp where Bailey was last seen, he believed that eventually the escaped man would be caught before he made it to town, but to be on the look out as they believed that was where he would aim for. He went on to explain that two of the guards from the stockade that had been trailing Bailey were now missing and that the tracking dog had been found without the two men, making them believe he had killed them somehow. He was now wanted for murder.......four in all, Granger, Broussard and two other men, one of the guards when he escaped from the workforce and the one with Broussard when they were tracking after him. The lawman doing the talking had told John that orders were bring him in 'Dead or alive.' 'Damn right,' John thought to himself, 'definitely dead, more than alive." * Claude pulled up the car in front of the small house just as Hannah opened the door and stepped out, and she stood there on the porch, her heart in her mouth as he climbed out of the car and walked up to the house, and up the steps to stand in front of her. "Well mornin' Missy, you an' me got some things to talk 'bout." And he pushed past her into the house. Hannah turned and grabbed his arm, "Where do you think you're going Mr Mayor, I haven't invited you in. This is my home." "And that Missy is what you and I are goin' to discuss." Shaking off her hand he went into the main room and sat down on the sofa. "Get me a drink Missy, my throat is dry after that long drive out here." And he looked around at the shabby room, with it's worn out chairs and old fashioned wooden furniture. Hannah stood her ground, "I have no intention of giving you any hospitality Mayor Gaudet, you are not welcome in my home, say what you've come to say and then get out." Leaning back and crossing his legs, one arm thrown across the back of the sofa the fat man stared at the skinny woman in the work worn denims and frayed cotton shirt, face devoid of any make up, hair pulled back into a clip from her face. "You look a mess Missy, life ain't easy for you......farm is going down fast since your Momma and Poppa died.....you ain't cut out for this.....sell up to me and you get money....stop scrabblin' round to exist.....don't sell up and it's only goin' to get a lot worse." "You threatening me Mayor....." "No Missy....tellin' you like it is. You need to sell up and sell up fast.... I'm a reasonable man....don't like to see a woman dirty her hands workin' in the field like a farm hand......got your best interest at heart.....you know the amount I'm offering...take it and go." "What you're offering is a pittance...." "It's all you're going to get....take it....before the price lowers due to unforeseen circumstances happen to your land." After a few beats she hissed, "That was a threat." Looking around the room a greasy smile on his face he looked back at her, eyes wide, brows up, "You see anyone here to witness what is said between us right now......you're alone Missy....no one to help you....." and he rose up and walked over to her nose to nose in an intimidating way. "Take the fucking money bitch or I'll make your life a living hell." And he stormed out the house and into his car, tyres squealing as he did a tight 'U' turn and started the drive back into town. Hannah stood shaking in the room, her arms wrapped around her waist as she heard the hallway door open and Jake slip through to take her in his arms and hold her as she sobbed into his shoulder. He had stood behind the door listening and had heard it all, and as he had another part of the conspiracy that had framed him clicked into place. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 09 This is a ten chapter romantic Crime thriller with consenting erotic and romantic sex, male on male violence and a lot of exciting cliff hangers at the endings of each chapter. As is usual in my stories there are a large selection of colourful characters and not all of the people in my stories have happy endings. You have been warned -- so if you like the kind of story that combines sex, violence, complicated and interweaving story lines, and that you can sit back each day and read a new chapter -- read on. * The day was baking hot, the air thick, the sun bright, bright enough to make the glare in your eyes burn, so that Hannah wore her big straw hat as she bent over in the field picking beans. Straightening up and stretching her aching back she glance over towards the house where Jake, against all arguments and advice this morning, was working and using the pump to fill up the old tin bucket for watering the pigs. She had told him he needed to rest and keep out of the sun, he told her he had never sat back and watched a woman work in his life, and besides he wanted to earn his keep. Eventually a deal was set, he would do general work, including helping to tend to the animals, she and Frank the backbreaking work in the fields. Last night they had slept in each others arms, and she flushed just thinking of the wonderful love making they had made yesterday, and the deep sleep they both had fallen into afterwards, then waking up together, smiling at each other across the pillows, feet finding feet to tangle intimately as they lay quietly listening to the birds outside give the dawn chorus. She watched as he walked over to the pen, bucket in hand, a long legged, easy walk, the worn old jeans outlining his thighs and hips, making her smile as she thought about how he looked, naked, those long limbs and slim hips under her hands. Rubbing her hand in the small of her back to ease the small pull of muscles there, not necessarily from today's work, but also from the strenuous sexual workout she had yesterday, she followed him with her eyes as he opened the gate into the sty and heard the greedy noise that greeted him from the big mother sow and the growing piglets that she was going to sell. Bending down she continued to tend the beans, her head full of plans that had been placed there by Jake, ways in which she might be able to save most of the farm and sell up only a portion to the county. * Jake watched the fat round bodies of the pigs shuffle each other out of the way as they grunted and huffed around the water and food troughs. The old straw hat that Hannah had given him kept the sun off his face and out of his eyes, but not off his body where the heat was making him sweat, and the thin cotton of the shirt rub against the healing skin of his back. But he was damned if he would let Hannah work whilst he sat on his backside. He admired her so much, her spirit, her need to keep this run down old farm, where he had seen the empty fields in the distance where once they had been filled with rice and crops aplenty. But the country was in a depression, and farmers scrabbled around hardly able to survive all over the country, and the building of the levees in the two rivers had completed the wipe out of the farms that had once made a decent living in the area. Wiping his arm across his forehead he looked out from the rickety old sty, out over the sagging fence towards where she worked bent over in the sun, big old floppy hat hiding her face, denim overalls covering her shape, sleeves of the old mans cotton shirt hiding her slim arms. He now knew that those baggy work clothes hid a sensuous woman with long willowy but incredibly strong limbs that had locked around his body as he made love to her. Skin covered with freckles, stretched across a body that bowed up and trembled in his arms as she came, a face that glowed, unadorned of makeup, it lit up with passion and had pulled him in. A real woman. Tough, kind, passionate, caring, hard working and sensuous. And his heart grew as he watched her work. If only he had met her over two years ago, he though. Two fucking years, but now what could he offer her. Nothing. * Rory sat in his office, the one he used to share with Jake, the pen in his hand turning over and over again as he played with it, unable to concentrate for the worry that was on his mind. He dreaded what he had to do tonight. Unsure he could really go through with it. But if he didn't, he and Abigail would be finished. Or would he? Throwing down the pen he sat up. What if he went to the Mayor, showed him some of the proof he had, threatened the man with total disclosure and ruin, just as he had originally kept the proof for, told him that he would expose him to the relevant agencies, bring him down if he didn't leave him and Abigail alone. What if he really did try that and see if that worked first. He wouldn't have to kill. But what if Claude killed them to protect himself? Slumping back down he tried to think it through. Claude might bluff him out, threaten him, hold a gun to him and demand the proof? But what if he told him that the papers had been sent off to an Attorney of Law to be opened on Abigail's, or his own death! That the papers were safely kept out of town with a third party, unknown to the Mayor. It could work. It had to work. Getting up he rushed out to go back to his house. He needed to get the incriminating evidence posted over to the Attorney he knew over in a large town near Layfayette, and do it fast. Arriving at his home he didn't even notice that his wife and child were not even there, all he was focused on was the stuff he had hidden in the attic, and taking from the small pile of ledgers and papers and notes he pulled out one piece, folded it and put it in his pocket and rushed over to his office to write the accompanying letter to his friend explaining that these papers were to be kept safe, unless he had heard that something had happened to him and then they were to be handed over to the authorities. * The Sheriff had driven and walked around the area, checking out to see if there was any sign of the escaped Jake Bailey. He travelled around the Northern edge of the swamp, and up the small trickle of the bayou that meandered north of town, looking for signs that Bailey was hiding out, but all he found was the occasional camp of destitute men with hollow eyes and cheeks, an air of desperation around them. Later he was going to go down to the south of town and over to Hannah's place, check out for any sign of the escaped man, as well as having another chat with Hannah to see if he could make her see sense and take up the Mayors offer. Climbing into the hot confines of his car he sat for a while, trying to picture himself in Baileys position, and work out what he would most likely do. He came to the conclusion that his first thoughts were the most likely. If he was Bailey he would aim for Rory Kendal, his old partner and the one that had set him up, and try to get revenge. So starting up the car he swung the vehicle around in the dirt and drove back to town, and to the office that Bailey and Kendal had once shared. * Jake, Hannah and Frank loaded up the produce picked onto the truck and Frank climbed up behind the wheel and hanging out of the window waved as he drove off towards town. Jake and Hannah looked at each other and without words said between them, turned, and holding hands ran back towards the house and the bedroom, There they stripped off each others clothes, kissing and laughing as they divested each other of the sweaty clothes, before falling in a tangle of arms and legs onto the big bed. Hannah's hands burrowed up into his hair as their mouths met, her thigh rubbed up between his thighs, moving against his hard and growing cock, his hand cupped her breast, squeezing and rubbing the small globe, his thumb finding her nipple and rubbing with the rough pad at the end of his digit. The sounds of heavy breathing, skin sliding against moist skin, and the soft murmurs of encouragement settled over them, along with the occasional gasp. Jake rolled over onto his back, pulling Hannah over him, then pulled her knees forward and eased her up, so that he could admire her body as she sat over him, soft skin, freckles, high pointed breasts, long slim torso raising up from where she straddled him, and his spread hands moved slowly, so that he could feel that beautiful skin, from her knees, up the inside of her thighs, his thumbs sliding inside the folds of her sex, his nails raking the hard core of her as his hands spread out at the top of her thighs where they met the start of her body. He watched as her head dropped backwards and her body arched above him, and then his hands moved, sweeping up over her belly, around the sides of her body and over her ribs to cup her breasts where with his fingers he pinched both nipples, twirling them and twisting them gently as she curved forward towards him, her hair hanging down over her shoulder, her hands resting on his chest, panting and moving her hips over his groin looking for friction against him with her wet and hot sex. Moving his hands to her hips he lifted her up and then lowered her onto his throbbing and needy rod, groaning himself as her body sunk down sheathing him in the glorious centre of her. * Rory stood in front of the Mayor, the gun tucked into his pocket, just in case. "So you see Claude, you either shut the fuck up with your threats or I'll start to drip feed the information to the local newspaper and let them smear your name with the dirt." "You do that boy," Claude growled, "and you had better start watching your back, cause I'll make sure you go down with me, or even worse." "I've thought of that. I've sent the evidence to friends out of town, to be opened if I die, say for example prematurely with a small lump of lead in my body. They've been instructed to pass on the goods to the authorities. Either way you'll be fucked." "Don't count on it boy, I got fingers in more pies than you think, I got me a load of people I can call upon in high up places that can squash and turn that there information around to bury you, and me to come up smellin' sweet as apple pie." "Claude, you're bluffing." And taking out the gun pointed it at the Mayor, "and you aren't the only one that needs to watch his back." Looking at the gun and then at Rory in the eyes, "You're sweatin' boy, and your hands shakin'." Taking a step around the desk the fat man laughed when he saw Rory take a step backwards, "Don't point a fucking gun at a man if you don't mean to use it. Now fuck off you prick and tell Abigail I expect her waitin' at her place for me in the next hour, on her knees ready to be in front of me sucking my prick." * "WHAT DID I TELL YOU TO DO? WHY CAN'T YOU FOLLOW ORDERS?" Abigail stormed around the room throwing things in a temper, whilst Rory stood watching her, seeing her as she really was for the first time. "I must have been mad......I've ruined my marriage for you, set a man up so that he's ended up in jail, and now you want me to kill for you.......well fuck it sweetheart.....you want the man dead, YOU DAMN WELL DO IT YOURSELF." And he threw the gun across the room and stormed out, heading for his house. Abigail picked up the gun from the floor with shaking hands, sat down on the chair, and placed it in her lap, waiting for Claude. * Frank was driving into town to deliver the produce to the store, when he saw a furious Rory Kendal stride down the street into his office, then the Mayor get into his car and drive like the devil was after him. Parking up and unloading the vegetables he took them around the back of the store, and after that he stood talking to a friend who swept up for the store owner, finding out what news from the small shanty town that his people lived in further up north. * Abigail sat listening to the Mayor bang on her front door, "OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR MISSY, OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR." But she sat there shaking, the feel of the hard metal of the gun very tangible in her hands. "OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR YOU BITCH......OR I'LL FUCKIN' KICK IT DOWN. YOU THINK YOU AND YOUR STUPID BOYFRIEND CAN TRY TO BLACKMAIL AND THREATEN ME. I'LL FUCKIN' TEACH YOU A FUCKIN' LESSON." Claude didn't notice the small group of three women that was walking across the road stop and listen, witnessing the commotion occurring on Abigail's front porch. "I'M GOING TO FUCKIN' RUIN YOU MISSY. YOU AIN'T SEEN ME AT MY WORST. I'M GOING TO FUCKIN' KILL THAT STUPID FUCKER KENDAL AND I'M GOING TO FUCKIN' GET YOU RUN OUT OF TOWN. WE DON'T WANT FUCKIN' WHORES AROUND HERE." The woman all looked at each other, shocked looks on their faces, never had they seen anything like this. They of course recognised the Mayor, and watching they saw him give one last vicious kick to the front door then turn and storm down the steps of the porch to his car and saw him drive away with a squeal of tyres. * The Sheriff parked his car outside of Rory's office and knocked on the locked door. Peering through the window he saw it was empty, no sign of Rory Kendal. Walking around the block, his hand on his gun where it sat in his holster, he checked out all the other offices and business, Went around the back in the alley's, looking into old garages and sheds, making sure there was no sign of the fugitive Bailey hiding out. * Abigail was upstairs in her bedroom packing her case, scooping up her jewellery and anything she thought she would be able to sell to put together with her money in the bank to get her across the country to Hollywood. The gun never was far from her side. Everything she had planned for had fallen apart. That stupid coward Rory had let her down. The Mayor was after her, and Jake was on the loose. It was time to cut her losses and move on. As fast as she could possibly manage it. * Hannah smiled down at a sleepy Jake, stroking his back as he laid sprawled facedown on the bed, "I really need to go out and finish the chores around the farm...." "Mmmnn...." Running a finger gently over the now almost healed skin on his back she asked him, "Why did they do this to you?" Turning over onto his side so that his marked back was away from her he said, "Because they were sadistic bastards that used their position of power to hurt and kill innocent men in the name of the law." Lying down next to him she stroked his face, "But that's all over now...." "I need to get away from here soon....I'll never be safe if I stay around this area....you know that.....I have to leave." "I know.....I understand....." "I wish I could stay and help you but it's just not possible......" "I know...." and she put her finger over his lips to stop him from speaking, "I'll take what you have to give for now.....and after that I'll treasure these moments together.....and always think of you up North...by the sea.....free....and that will satisfy me." Leaning over he kissed her, a kiss so sweet it brought tears to both their eyes. "You'll always be in my heart wherever I end up...." He whispered, "I love you...." * The Mayor was now at boiling point, unable to take out his frustration on Abigail, steamed up over Rory Kendal, and wound up because the Sheriff wasn't moving fast enough getting that little cow, Hannah, on that last farm, taking his offer and getting off the property so he could sell it at an inflated profit. Storming around his office, kicking chairs over, and scattering paperwork on his desk, the two secretaries in his outer office sat stock still listening to their boss as he shouted and ranted out loud to himself, and crashed around in there. They could hear the occasional curses such as "Fuck that bitch Roseaux, and damn that little cunt Campbell, all women are whores.....I'm going to kill that little weasel Kendal if he doesn't tell me where that fuckin' information is hid." Opening a drawer in his desk he took out his .38 S & W and slipped it in his pocket. The two women looked at each other in shock as suddenly the Mayor stormed out his office, past them, and out the door. * Rory sat in his empty house, his life in ruins around him when he heard the crashing of glass around the back, then the sound of the back door crashing open. Getting to his feet, his heart in his mouth he grabbed a heavy lamp and removing the shade stood with it raised up, ready to defend himself. "That you Jake?" he asked in shaky voice, expecting to see his old partner come to exact revenge. The Mayor appeared in the doorway of the room that Rory was in, "No Kendal." and he stood there the gun pointed at Rory, "You're going to tell me where that stuff is that can incriminate me or I'm going to kill you bit by bit, slowly, a bullet here, a bullet there, first your leg, then your arm, next your balls, until you're begging me to stop and let you tell me." Rory's answer was to throw the lamp at the Mayor's head and make a run for the door to escape. The heavy lamp base hit the Claude on the side of the head and in a reaction the finger that was on the trigger of the gun retracted and there was a loud bang as the bullet shot out of the gun. * Outside of Rory's house his neighbour was getting into his car when he heard the sound of the shot coming from inside the Kendal's home. He stood there, hovering half in and half out of the black Ford car when a minute later he saw Claude rush out the front door and run down the street to get in his car and drive off. Slowly getting out of his car the neighbour cautiously walked towards the Kendal's home, the front door open where Claude, in his hurry, had forgotten to close it, and called out through it, "Anyone there?......hello?........Kendal?" There was no answer so he walked slowly in to the house, until he saw the body of Rory Kendal laying sprawled out, face up, eyes open but unseeing, blood seeping from the gunshot wound in his chest. Staring in horror and backing out of the room and then running down the hallway to outside the house he bent over throwing up, before he ran next door and phoned the sheriffs office to report the killing. * At the same time the neighbour was phoning the Sheriffs office, the three women who had witnessed the incident at Abigail's were telling the deputy about it. "Well the Mayor was shouting that he was going to kill someone, and he looked mad enough to do it!" "He kicked her door.....hard and was threatening her." "I've never seen anyone so angry....especially the Mayor." "It's probably nothing ladies......people make threats all the time....doesn't necessarily mean they're going to actually go through with them...." Just then the phone rang and saying, "Excuse me ladies...." he picked up the phone and heard the frantic neighbour tell him about the shooting of Rory Kendal. * A sweating and scared Claude drove sightlessly in his car not noticing where he was going, just driving around aimlessly. He hadn't meant to actually kill Kendal, just scare him into giving up the information was that could ruin him, but the lamp when it had hit him had caused him to jerk and fire the gun, and the next thing was a dead Kendal laying on the floor. Driving along, not seeing where he was heading, he drove south along the road towards Hannah's place. * Jake and Hannah lay facing each other on the bed, quietly talking about their lives, their hopes and dreams. The afternoon drifted along as they focused on each other, the worries that both had didn't intrude on the tender time that they lay spent and complete, and content on the bed, drowning in each others eyes. * Frank said goodbye to his friend and climbed back into the truck ready to drive back to the farm. He drove along at a steady pace, the windows open to air the hot and stuffy confines of the trucks cab. Weaving his way through town he aimed for the road that lead south, passing the cluster of people as he went that were gathering outside the sheriffs office, that now included the sheriff, deputy, the neighbour and women. Louisiana Heat Ch. 09 * John and the deputy went over to Kendal's place to deal with the body and to set the ball rolling on having it picked up by the coroner. From the description from the neighbour, John realised that it was the Mayor. The witness had told him the Mayor had gotten into his car and driven towards the south of town so he told the deputy to take statements from all witnesses and he set off in the direction the Mayor was last seen heading. As if he hadn't enough on his plate at the moment with an escaped Jake Bailey probably either heading this way or somewhere hiding out around town, he now had the complications of a murder by the very man who he himself had done some dirty work on the side for, and had framed Bailey with the help of the murder victim. It would also now mean that the reason to try to talk Hannah to give up the farm and move into town under his wing was gone. He had planned to go out later this afternoon for another talk with her anyway, but now he had to find the Mayor and try to do some fallout limitations. The Mayor was going to have to be caught, and then shot when trying to escape. * Jake lay on the bed on his back, hands behind his head, and one leg bent at the knee, completely and unashamedly naked, watching as Hannah pulled on her dungarees, a big smile of his face. Straightening up Hannah saw the smile on his face and jumping up onto the bed and over him started to playfully tickle his sides, being careful of the bandage that still covered the healing wound on his side, making him laugh along with her light-heartedly. The two of them rolled around on the bed, each trying to get the upper hand until after a while they kissed, still laughing and Jake gave a pat on her denim clad bottom. "Better stop distracting me woman, we need to get up and ready, and outside before Frank comes back from town." So reluctantly Hannah got off the bed and walked towards the bedroom door, "I'll see you outside in five minutes. There's still fields to water down before the sun starts to kill the crops and sets them on fire." and she left the house walking over to the water pump. * The Mayor drove now at speed down the dusty road towards Hannah's, he had no idea what he was going to do, just that he knew he needed to get away somewhere for safety to think and work out what to do next. Driving up to the entrance to the farm he stopped his car in front of the house where Hannah stood by the water pump and climbed out of the car. A shocked Hannah stood staring at the man who walked up to her in a rumpled suit, a trickle of blood at the side of his balding head where the lamp had hit him, a gun in his hand pointing at her. "Get in the house Missy." Dropping the full bucket of water onto the ground and taking a step back, Hannah stared at the gun. "I told you I'm not selling up?" Laughing a little hysterically Claude answered back, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, if you had done what I asked and sold up I wouldn't be in the shit I am now. Its all your fucking fault Missy, now go into the house and shut up. I need to think." Worrying that he would see Jake she prayed that he had seen the man pull up and point the gun at her and had run out the back and escaped. Jake had seen the Mayor pull up through the front window, seen the gun, and was waiting inside the house behind the door. * Claude stepped inside the house behind Hannah, the gun in his hand pointing at her back he never saw the big man that attacked him from behind, knocking the gun out his hand, nor the punch that knocked him out unconscious. Running to stand behind Jake, Hannah said, "He's was acting crazy, he came out here days ago trying to make me sell up, I told him no, why won't he stop harassing me?" "I think he's part of the people who defrauded the other farmers out of their land......maybe even running it, along with my old partner. They set me up." and turning him over on the floor pointed to the wound on the side of the man's head, "He's bleeding.....pick up the gun, we need to secure him until he comes around and I can find out what he wants and why he's here, get him to confess." "No Jake you need to go.....he mustn't see you....if he's the Mayor he must have come for you....you have to go and go now before he comes around or the Sheriff turns up. Frank will be here soon, he'll help me....you have to go, they have the power in this town, you'll just end up being arrested and sent back." Looking at her Jake shook his head, "No. I stay here and protect you. When Frank comes we'll decide what to do, but until he arrives I'm not leaving." * Frank drove along humming a tune, getting closer and closer to the old farm. * Abigail closed her front door and carrying the heavy suitcase loaded it into the taxi she had ordered to take her to the bus station over on the edge of town. The next bus for Lafayette was due to leave in about an hour and she intended to be on it and out of this backwater town and on her way to the West Coast and California when it left. * Jake pulled the rope tight around the Mayors wrists, then his ankles. "This should hold him!" "What do we do then with him....after you've gone? Me and Frank what do we do with him, he's the Mayor.....he'll press charges on us." Jake looked at her and grabbed her arms, "Come with me.....come with me up north and we'll start a new life together.....we'll phone the Sheriffs office once we're out of the county and away and tell him where he can find the Mayor. We'll tell him that he tried to attack you and that you hit him and he fell, by the time the Sheriff comes out and finds him we'll be long gone on our way to freedom. Together. Say yes." Looking around at the only home she had ever known, and the place she had fought so hard to keep, tears started to flow from her eyes, "I don't know.....this is my home." "Come with me....." "I don't know!" "Come with me....." Hannah looked up at Jake, her mouth opening to give him his answer when they both heard the groan at their feet as the Mayor started to come around and whatever she was about to say was swallowed. * Louisiana Heat Ch. 10 This is the last chapter of this romantic Crime thriller, and I hope you enjoyed it. If you are looking for your own romantic other for your life, I hope you find them, or if you are already with the one you love, I wish you a long and sensuous life So read on to find out what happens to Jake and Hannah, and the rest of the people in this story. * Frank drove up to the farm in the truck and slowly parked behind the car that was parked in front of the house. He sat in the truck wondering what to do. He didn't recognise the car and couldn't see Miss Hannah or Jake Bailey anywhere in sight. Getting out of the truck slowly he walked over to the house, removing his battered old hat and knocked on the door. Inside Hannah and Jake jumped, the Mayor lying at their feet, arms tied in front of him, ankles tied together, groaning. "Sweet Jesus Jake, who is that? What if it's the Sheriff?" Hannah hissed. Walking over to the window Jake peered carefully out, the gun in his hand ready just in case it was the Sheriff come to take him in. "It's just Frank.....your field hand....." Hannah ran to the door and opened it pulling a bewildered Frank in, "You alright Miss Hannah.......there's a car outside......" And then he stopped mid sentence when he saw the trussed up and groaning man on the floor, "Gawd almighty Miss Hannah....." "The Mayor, he came pointing a gun at me......we don't know why. Maybe he knew Jake was here and he's tipped off the Sheriff......or he's trying to force me to sell up," turning back to Jake, "you have to go.....get away before the Sheriff arrives.....Frank is here with me.....go." Jake stood looking at her torn, "Please come with me...." "I'd slow you down....go....quick." and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, "I love you.....but you have to go and save yourself....I'll be here waiting for you when you manage to clear your name.......now go." He handed her the gun and with one last hot look Jake went out the door and using the car keys he took from Claude's pocket he got into the car and drove off, turning off the main road and weaving his way over the barren field to the west, and picking up a small almost undetectable road headed north. * Sheriff John Millet drove towards Hannah's place. It had been a long and hot sweaty afternoon and now the sun was starting to sink low behind the trees. When he arrived at the farm he pulled up and walked up the porch stairs about to knock on the door, but it opened before he had a chance to knock by a frantic looking Hannah. Grabbing her arms he asked her, "You alright, what's wrong?" "Sheriff, it's the Mayor, he came in waving this gun....Frank overpowered him. We don't know what he wanted....." John took out his gun and carefully walked into the house before stopping in shock. "Miss Hannah you sure caught yourself the Mayor......Claude, I'm taking you back to town, I'm arresting you for the murder of Rory Kendal." And he bent down to replace the rope on the struggling mans wrists with handcuffs, and undid the man's feet, and then pulled him up to standing. Hannah gasped and held her hand to her throat, "Murder....he's wanted for murder?" "I'm innocent....I'm the Mayor....you'll never make it stick....I've got the goods on you Millet....you go down with me. Let me go." The fat man spluttered all the way to the police car where John pushed him in the back and turned around to face a shocked pair, "I'll be back tomorrow to take your statement." and getting into the car drove away towards town. Hannah entered back into the house, sat down and burst into tears. Frank stood in the doorway unsure what to do, and after a long lengthy silence told the weeping woman, "He'll be back Miss Hannah, I just knows Jake'll be back....all you's got to do is wait." * Jake drove through the woods, the car jolting over unmade dirt tracks until he came to a slightly better and bigger track. Following that he drove past an old run down entrance to an abandoned farm, and kept driving past barren fields with weeds growing taking over the once fertile land, and continuing driving he made his way further and further away from Hannah, and also the town where he had lived most of his life. His heart was breaking and all he could see as he drove was the tearful face of the woman he loved, and leaving her was like a knife in his guts. But he knew there was no alternative. He had to run. Run away and try to clear his name from somewhere far away so that he was safe. Louisiana was to hot for him to stay in now. Eventually the car started to slow down and stop. He had run out of gas. Getting out and leaving the car abandoned he started to trudge slowly, keeping close to the edge of the woods and fields that lined the road, just in case another car might come along. Walking for a while he could see the signs of an old wooden shanty town up ahead. It was where the local black population lived, away from town, but close enough to where they had used to work, on the farms as farm hands, and in town in menial jobs, just like Frank, Hannah's field hand. Slipping into the wood at the side of the road, he found somewhere to hide and waited until the darkness of night would fall. No way was he going to take any chances. He would move in the dark, making his way when everyone was asleep, heading north and freedom. * Halfway back from Hannah's John stopped the car. All the way back Claude had screamed at him, telling him he would bring him down if he didn't let him go, and that he the Mayor would make sure that if he was put on trial for murder he would implicate the Sheriff in the conspiracy, and make sure he was put away as well. Turning around in his seat to look at the Mayor, John asked him, "So you want me to let you go?" "You let me go....blame the killing on Bailey....he's still out there....he was at the farm....I saw him....he's the one who hit me.....we can blame the killing on him....you can say I was trying to arrest him when he hit me and got away...." "You want me to let you go and blame the killing on Bailey." "Exactly.....who's going to question it Sheriff. He's already a dangerous and escaped killer....everyone is going to believe us...." John slowly got out of the car and opened the door to take out the still handcuffed Mayor. "And then we're both safe? Kendal's dead.....no one left to tie me and you into the fraud." "Yes...no one left....excepting the woman....Rory's woman....but she won't say anything if we threaten her.....she'll be too frightened to say anything now Kendal is dead." Taking the keys to the handcuffs out of his pocket John reached over and undid the metal cuffs holding Claude's hands captive. "You think I can trust a snake like you Claude?" and he threw the cuffs into car onto the front passenger seat, "I don't think I can trust you as far as I can fucking throw you......start running." The Mayor spluttered, rubbing his wrist with his other hand, "What?....What do you mean?" "Start running fat man.....I'm going to count to ten and if you're still here when I've finished then I'm going to shoot you." and he pulled his gun out of the holster and pointed it at the Mayor, cocking the trigger. "One.....two.....three..." "What do you mean run..." looking frantically around him at the bayou running down the side of the road and the dense swamp, moss covered trees hiding the thick woods behind. "Where am I supposed to go?" "Four.....five...six..." "Wait.....just wait." and his arms came up pleading, "Just think....lets do a deal...you want money John?.....we can do a deal." "Seven....eight..." The Mayor turned and started to run towards the water on his fat podgy legs, breathing hard with fear, and made for the cover of the swamp on the other side. "Nine....ten." The shot rung out making birds that had been in the trees to fly up out of the top of the swamp in a flapping and squawking noise, and John watched as the fat man fell forward, the red spreading over his back where the bullet had hit him. Looking around for a large heavy stick on the ground he took a deep breath and then hit himself over the side of his head hard enough to leave a deep bruise and cut the flesh. His head rang with pain and he staggered to his knees before he managed to take a deep breath to try to clear his head and do what he had to do. Throwing the stick into the car next to the handcuffs he walked over to the dead man and with a lot of pulling and exertion managed to pull him to the open back door of the car and got him in. Climbing back into the car he drove carefully towards town, rehearsing his story about how Claude tried to escape after he had requested a chance to take a pee, hitting him on his head with the stick, knocking him, the Sheriff, to his knees, swiping the keys to the handcuffs from him, undoing them and making a run towards the swamp and almost certain freedom, when he, Sheriff John Millet, had shot him. It would be a certain case of the prisoner being killed trying to escape justice. The killer of Rory Kendal now killed himself. And Sheriff John Millet in the clear. * Night fell and the velvet dark swirled around Jake where he hid out in the woods, the heat only falling a few degrees, making him hot and thirsty. Creeping out of his hiding space he carefully crept towards the first wooden cabin, and into the back where a small area was given over to growing some straggly vegetables and an old metal tank held water. Bending over the tank he drank his fill and then scooped up the tepid water to sluice it over his head, neck and chest to cool himself down. Bending he pulled out a couple of carrots and washing them in the water he took a bite as he walked in the shadows behind the cabins, sometimes hearing laughter and singing in the distance. The night rung with the noise of insects and small animals, and the sound of his own heart beating in his ears as he kept to the shadows of the run down old wooden homes, flattening his body in the nooks and cranny's, or bending down to hide whenever someone seemed to be close by. After passing a few cabins, and taking more raw vegetables which he ate, he came to what looked like a bigger cabin, a big cross nailed to the top. Laid out around it graves with more crooked wooden crosses marking their dead, and a large hollow tree on a slight hill looked down over the sad scene, a meadow spread out behind it surrounded by woods. He was about to go past the back of the church when he noticed a painted sign, and for some reason was pulled by forces unknown or that he understood, to walk towards it. He looked at the sign, the hand painted black letters spread across the white background proclaiming 'Church of the Calvary' Old man Granger's dying words came back to him. Had he found where the old convict had hidden the stolen payroll? * Jake lay on his belly and burrowed his hand and arm deep into the hollow of the tree behind the church, feeling around, pulling out dirt, old leaves, twigs, until he felt deep in the tree the metal edge of a box. Pushing his body as close to the tree as he could so that his shoulder was inside the hollow opening, he managed to get purchase on the box and pulled it towards him from the depth of the tree. When he had gotten it out he looked a the one foot by one and a half foot, by six inches deep metal box. Trying to open it he looked at the flat lock, the keyhole full of mud and dirt and tucked it under his arm, got up and crept his way through the cover of the night, away. * Two days later Frederick O'Malley, Attorney at Law sat at his desk in his office shaking his head in sorrow. He was reading the local paper and the account of the murder of his old college friend Rory Kendal by Mayor Claude Gaudet, and the subsequent killing of his killer when trying to escape arrest. Rory and he had known each other back when they were young, and though they had drifted apart, especially when he had moved away to start his practice in a large town not far from Lafayette, he had occasionally met up with Rory when he went back to visit his own folks. Putting down the paper he picked up his post that his secretary had placed on the desk only minutes before. Shuffling through the post he prioritised the letters opening some official letters and settling back to read them. Working his way through the pile of post he eventually came to the package that someone had appeared to have sent him and opening it up read the letter that sat on top of the pile of account book, official letters and copies of bank details wrapped up in string. The letter was signed by his murdered old friend Rory Kendal. Getting up he called out to his secretary, "Cancel all my appointments, I'll be out for the rest of the day." and scooping up the contents of the package rushed out of his office and over to the office of the Sheriff of the town he now called home. * Six months later Hannah stood out the back of her home looking over the field that once had been almost empty of crops and now was full with temporary workers tending the new plants that she was able to buy with the money left over from the sale of part of the land direct to the county, just as Jake had suggested. She had heard that the new road and the railway lines were well underway further up North, and the workers would soon be coming down to work on the land to the west of her farm that she had sold off. Things were looking up; she now made more trips into town and beyond, setting up more deals to sell her produce, bringing in a steady, but not enormous profit. On those visits she had heard about the Sheriff John Millet being arrested for part of the fraud that he, Rory Kendal and the Mayor had perpetrated on the farmers, and the framing of Jake as proved by the paperwork that came to the attention of the authorities. At the Sheriffs trial it came out that Jake was innocent and had been set up to take the fall and the heat off of the real people involved. But no one knew where he was. He hadn't been captured, and a complete pardon on the fraud had been given to the absent Jake by the Governor. However gossip was that he was still wanted on the possible murder charges of the Guards when he escaped. Every night since he had left Hannah had gone to bed alone, and dreamt of the wonderful few days she and Jake had spent together, imagining his hands roaming over her body, loving her and making her lonely life no longer lonely. She hoped he was safe and that he had found his haven by the sea, as she could live alone knowing he was happy and free. Turning around and walking back to the house over the tracks in the field between rows of beans, she suddenly stopped, her heart beating hard in her chest, a flush of shock at seeing the man that stood there at the edge of the field. The man she dreamed about each night, dreams that left her hot and wanting. Jake Bailey. She watched him walk towards her, and then he was standing in front of her, taking her face in his hands, cupping it gently and lowering his face to hers to kiss her sweetly, just like in her dreams.. "Hannah...." "Jake....." Her arms snaked around his neck, one hand rising up into his hair as the kiss deepened, and then they ended the kiss, "You came back." "Yes....for you." He looked up at the workers in the field, the plants filling it and smiled, "You sold off some land?" "Yes...did you get to the sea....get work on a fishing boat.....make a new life?" "Yes I got to the sea....I bought a boat.....started to make a new life....then realised something was missing.....you." It's still dangerous for you here....you're wanted for the murder of the guards....." "No Hannah, its not dangerous anymore.....for the last month I've been over in Baton Rouge speaking to the Governor.....I gave myself up and made a statement explaining what happened in the swamp and on the chain gang....I've been given a full pardon. I'm a free man.....and I've come back here where my heart is." He bent his head down and kissed her again, "If you'll have me." "I love you Jake.....what's mine is yours. Walking hand in hand they made their way to the house to start the rest of their lives together in the best way they knew how. * He watched his own hand as it skimmed slowly down from her fragile neck, the skin covered in a fine dewy perspiration and onto the gentle expanse of skin below. Moving his other hand up he undid the buttons of her blouse, slowly revealing the plain cotton of her brassiere. Using his palms he moved the material of her blouse over her shoulders, running his work worn palms over the firm skin of her shoulders and carried on down her arms until the white material had fallen to the floor. Bending his head down he kissed her mouth as his hands worked at removing that which hid her breasts from his sight, and as the bra fell to join the blouse on the ground his head drew back and his eyes dropped down to admire the small high breasts, topped with the dark pink nipples, the small freckles decorating the skin. "I dreamt of this....of you....of your softness....the smell of your skin....the feel of your body...the warmth that lives within you...." and looking into her eyes, deeply and with emotion he told her, "Whatever happens, whether this country ever gets back on its feet, through good and bad, we were meant to be together.....make love with me." The depression that held the country in its grip and ruined so many lives no longer touched this small farm in the South of Louisiana as together they built an oasis where love, work and support kept them happy. * On the street corner in a run down part of Los Angeles stood a woman whose dreams had turned to dust around her. Broke, and one of hundreds of woman who came flooding each month with dreams of making it big and becoming famous from the small towns around the land, she was reduced to selling herself to live. Louisiana seemed a life time away even after a short six months.