So one last time, Gunsmoke fans, a bushel basketful of thanks for the kind, thoughtful and ultimately informative reviews which served to significantly reshape this little biscuit. (This sapsucker is at least twice as long now, folks.) And thanks for hanging with me throughout the delays whilst I was feverishly writing those additions. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

Skip My Rounds Tonight

by Lilyjack

Chapter 9

or

"Every Inch a' You…"

Matt detected rustling fabric and soft curses, even while he felt goosebumps creeping over his skin in the uncomfortably cool bathwater. He also had a crick in his neck courtesy of lying in the tub with his head at an odd angle for an extended period of time. Sometimes it was hell getting old, he thought. But then he cracked open his eyes a slit to glimpse his old-age companion, blazing red hair beginning to tumble down around her shoulders as she drew her lacy ladies' underthings over her head, and he suddenly decided that maybe old age wasn't turning out to be so bad after all. She was quietly but fiercely cursing a knot in the laces of her corset, standing with her back to him, unable to loosen it for love nor money.

Matt rolled his sore neck muscles this way and that, stiffly and slowly sat upright, stretching his unused back and leg muscles. Bracing his hands on the sides of the tub, he stood in a whoosh of streaming water, all six feet, seven inches of him.

Kitty glanced up from her task, wide-eyed. "Matt, you startled me. I didn't know you were awake." He scratched the back of his head, which Kitty was happy to note was already drying in soft curls. She would not let him slick them back with bear grease pomade tonight, not if it was the last thing she ever did. She approached him, happily distracted from her frustrating business.

His eyes twinkled. "Well, I heard my dainty little honey-pie cursin' like a sailor and…"

"Oh, Matt Dillon, you…!" She gave his wet behind a firm smack.

"Ouch! Unhand me, woman! By golly, I'll teach you to strike an officer of the law…" A long arm, strong as iron and dripping wet, snaked around her waist, drawing her close as she gave a surprised and raucous laugh. His head bent low, and he kissed her…sweetly once, gently again, and with a brush of his lips one last time, he released her.

She opened her eyes longingly and Matt explained, "See, I'm ruinin' your pretty things again. I've gone and got you all wet."

"Alright… Let's get you dried off." She shot him a look. "Then we won't have to worry anymore." She grabbed a nearby towel as her eyes pored over him appreciatively. "My, you clean up good, Cowboy." She began briskly rubbing his skin dry.

"Yeah, well…" he began sheepishly, "I reckon I'm not too impressive right now, standin' here in this cold water."

"Get on out then, Matt. I won't have you freezing to death. And I'll have you know I am always dazzled by your manly virility, even if you have been up to your neck in ice-cold, peck-..."

"Okay, honey, I get the idea!" Matt rolled his eyes long-sufferingly. "Don't you worry. I'm sure you'll have me heated back up in record time. Whoa, those are the parts, right there! Let's not get too frisky with the towel. I haven't even got your clothes offa you yet."

Kitty made short work of drying his long legs and feet, then straightened back up to face him with a frown. "Whether or not that is a possibility remains to be seen. I have a knot. It's awful stubborn, Matt."

"So I heard. Lemme take a look."

He sat on the leather stool so he would be eye to eye with her laces. She watched him contemplate the knot, envious of his perfect vision at his age. To do close work, she often had to use her lorgnette. She supposed she should have gotten it out to work on the knot, but she seemed to have misplaced the blasted thing somewhere two days ago and couldn't locate it anywhere. "I nearly broke a nail trying to get it untied, Matt."

"I don't have any fancy nails to break. Just gimme a minute." He wore a determined expression on his face, tongue touching his upper lip as he worked and pulled, pulled and worked. At last, the knot gave way.

She lavished Matt with a radiant smile and a tight hug. "Thank you! I was beginning to think I was gonna hafta sleep in this thing! I mean, I realize lots of women do, but oh no, not me. I'm not that crazy. I…"

"You know we coulda' just cut the laces with a knife."

"Like hell we would have. This corset was expensive and I had to special order it from…"

"I woulda' bought you another one…" He pulled her down into his lap and she draped her arms around his neck. "… even if it took a month of Sundays to pay for it." He nuzzled her tumbledown hair, inhaling the fragrance of rosewater, tracing his lips over her ear. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, Kitty."

"Oh, Matt…" Kitty wore a contrite expression. "I'm sorry." She tenderly kissed his cheek.

"If I don't get my hands underneath that corset pretty soon, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Oh, you say the sweetest things sometimes." Her eyes twinkled as her fingers tenderly threaded through his soft hair.

He shot her a rakish grin. "I don't know that I'm sweet, but I'm truthful."

"Your truths are my sweet nothings, Matt Dillon. Kiss me, please, and then help me get out of this contraption."

"It'd be my pleasure, Miss Russell."

He kissed her and adeptly loosened her stays at the same time. Much practice over the years had made him a skilled expert in making love to his girl, all the while divesting her of her undergarments.

But once she'd loosened the hated corset from her torso, the inevitable scratching began. One of the many unfortunate side-effects of having one's body compressed for long periods of time with a wrinkled chemise beneath is that one's skin itched like hell once the instrument of torture had been at long last finally removed. When they were still young, Matt was appalled to see the damage Kitty wrought on her own delicate skin with her fingernails - long red whelps of very tiny blood-blisters. He insisted she stop; he would soothe her awful itching with his own hands and fingers, devoid of long fingernails, so as not to injure her skin. Oh, he was only too glad to offer his services, of course. And thereafter, whenever he was present for Kitty's nighttime ritual of removing the hated undergarment, his soothing caresses inevitably led to love-making of one form or another. For Matt Dillon did not do things by half measures, in public or private.

"Don't scratch, honey," he remonstrated against her mouth between kisses. "Stand up and hold up your arms for me." They both rose from the stool, and he lifted the embroidered undergarment with loosened laces up over her head. Then she untied not one, but two petticoats from around her waist, allowing them to billow to the floor at her feet. He held her hand while she stepped out of voluminous yards of fabric and was left wearing only her two-piece chemise and drawers. "Nuh-uh…" he gently remonstrated when he saw one of her hands reach to dig long, well-manicured nails into her side through her cotton chemise. "Come 'ere." He sighed, smiling. "Lemme help."

From long custom, she familiarly backed up, relaxing her back against Matt's chest as he began to rub her sides and belly with his huge palms, his thumbs reaching around to her back. Then he would softly scratch with his fingertips. She quietly emitted a hiss of deep satisfaction, eyes closed.

Matt asked in a gruff voice, "More?"

She nodded, eyes still shut, "Mmm-hmmm…"

He reached down and unbuttoned three tiny shell buttons on the bodice of her lace-trimmed chemise, quick as a wink. "Lift up…" he instructed, his voice thick with emotion. It had been two very long, arduous weeks since he had laid eyes on his ladylove.

She dutifully allowed him to strip her naked to the waist, again settling back against him and the rising evidence of his love for her, lifting and entwining her arms behind his neck. Then he was able to caress her itching skin from waist to soft bosom and back again, over and over. Matt was watching their reflection in the cheval mirror; his breath was coming nearly as quickly as hers was. "Kitty, you are the most beautiful woman in the world," he earnestly professed.

"Oh, Matt…" She could hardly string together a coherent sentence. "I'm not a…pretty, young girl…anymore. You're just sayin'-"

"I don't want a girl. I want you, Kitty. It's you that's beautiful to me."

"So…sweet…"

"You're the only person on this earth who thinks I'm sweet, honey. Kitty, these here are gettin' in the way." He slipped a finger beneath the waistband of her pantaloons. "Would you mind?"

"Mmm…fire away, Cowboy…"

In two shakes of a lamb's tail, he'd untied her drawers and the soft fabric dropped to the floor, to be swept to the side to join the rest of her unmentionables. Now Matt's caresses held free rein over Kitty's body and he was able to fully pleasure her, touching her in secret places no one but he was privy to.

For a moment, gazing into the mirror at her breathtaking form responding to his attentions, he glimpsed the hateful scar that was left behind after she was kidnapped by a gang of ruthless outlaws who had abused and shot her. For that instant, his chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. Matt always had to forcefully shove that ugly memory to the back of his mind. He'd always blamed himself for what had happened to her, but for the sake of his sanity, Kitty insisted they couldn't keep rehashing things like that. They agreed to simply focus on the here and now. Where he and Kitty were concerned, the here and now were all they had. They couldn't dwell on their past, and they couldn't rely on their future. He and Kitty only had each other today. And right this moment he had the woman he loved in his arms.

"Ohh….Matt…" she gasped. "Matt… "

"I think it's high time I took you to bed, Miss Russell," he murmured into her ear. "You're sayin' my name like you mean it."

Matt swept her up, light as a feather with nary a petticoat or a skirt, a corset or any of those other ladies' things that tended to get in his way. She lay bonelessly in his arms, a small moan escaping her lips as he carried her swiftly to the bedroom and gently lay her upon the bed. He was plenty heated up by now, just watching Kitty in the mirror becoming aroused by his hands on her, not to mention holding her supple, responsive body closely against his own. Matt Dillon's passions had always been easily het up when it came to Kitty Russell.

Kitty reached for him with outstretched arms, and he crawled up alongside her. He pressed his lips against her sweet mouth. She slipped her arms and legs in and around his body, entwining them in his own limbs, holding him so close that he wasn't sure where one of them left off and the other began. The feeling was overwhelming. They exchanged countless passionate kisses as he stroked his large hand over the silky soft skin of her back and she pressed her body even more tightly against his. Groaning, he declared in a voice rife with emotion, "Honey, you have no idea how much I missed you."

Her striking blue eyes fixed on his, full of yearning. "Show me…"

He gave her one last kiss on her parted lips, murmuring, "Just lay back, honey…" Then he began slowly, languorously, trailing his hot mouth tantalizing down the length of her, kissing, tasting, worshipping every sultry, sinuous dip, every soft, creamy inch of her just like he had promised earlier in the saloon. That was when he and Kitty had been surrounded by people, and Matt, frustratingly, hadn't been able to touch her. But now Kitty Russell was completely naked beneath his eager hands and lips, and his feverish gaze could openly admire her lying sensuously atop the bed, tiny sweat droplets clinging to every ripe curve, every delicious valley, shimmering golden in the lamplight. Her wordless, wanton cries when he suckled her most tender flesh, her body responding in a primal rhythm, her fingers threading desperately through his hair, all made his heart pound and his blood rush urgently through his veins. His sweetheart had always been a little bit wild, a very passionate woman, and it satisfied him to no end that he, a simple cowboy, could pleasure her so.

"Matt…" Her hands were clutching at the bedcovers, her hair falling seductively across her face, her bare breasts heaving in breathless desire. "I need you inside me…please."

Quickly kissing her perspiring face, he locked eyes with her as he slipped one of her legs over his shoulder and easily entered her, rocking slowly and gently at first, then gradually with more urgency.

She gazed at his impassioned, determined expression with those curls, damp now with sweat, hanging over his forehead, and she knew she would never love another man in her lifetime, even if Matt were to be taken from her tomorrow. Kitty arched her back to meet him while she reached down to touch herself where their two bodies joined as one. She saw his eyes darken with excitement as he watched her; when her body quickly responded, the resulting sweet inner embrace pushed Matt over the edge as well. He cried out, muffling his voice against the bedcovers. It wouldn't do for the whole saloon to hear the marshal upstairs in Miss Kitty's bedroom. Matt rolled to the side, and they lay silently for a while, resting, catching their breath.

Finally, wiping the sweat from his face, Matt asked with gentle concern, "Are you okay?"

Sighing in contentment, she rubbed his naked belly. "You always ask me that."

"I'm a big man, Kitty. I'm always afraid I'll hurt you."

"You never have." She turned on her side to face him and rested her head on an elbow.

Matt began picking stray hairpins out of her hair, allowing the remainder of her tousled hair to fall free. "Would you tell me the truth if I did? If I did hurt you?"

She started to tug some bedclothes over her nakedness. Matt pulled them back off with the plea, "It's not cold in here. Let a starvin' man who hasn't eaten in two weeks have his fill."

"Matt Dillon, I declare. You are incorrigible. When are you gonna- ?"

"Never." He wrapped an arm behind her, began slowly stroking her skin.

She traced her fingers over his bare chest, then kissed the broad expanse a dozen times.

"You haven't given me an answer yet, Kitty."

"What?" She nipped the tight bud of his nipple with her teeth.

"Ow! Quit that. You'll tell me if I hurt you?"

"I'll tell you, Matt Dillon. I pretty much tell you everything already."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do."

Taken aback, he questioned, "After all these years, you still do?"

"Yep, still do." She reached up and twirled one of his curls around her finger, emitted a husky laugh when he picked another hairpin out of her riotous hair and sent it pinging across the room.

"Will you tell me everything…always, Kitty?"

Kitty felt her eyes burning and a lump in her throat. She threaded her fingers through his baby fine tresses and replied, "I'll tell you everything…always, Matt."

"Promise?" He gave her his blinding, boyish grin that most people seldom saw these days, but thankfully she was witness to it more often than others.

"I promise." She squeezed him tightly, arms wrapped around his neck, her heart bursting, while he stroked that silky red hair he'd always loved so much, rubbing her back tenderly. Finally, she released him, attempting to unobtrusively wipe a little dampness from the corners of her eyes. He took her face between his hands and brushed his lips against her forehead.

She kissed him back deeply, on the mouth, humming her contentedness. Then she slowly, deliberately, began to speak. "As a matter of fact, I was, uh, going to…tell you about a dream I had while you were gone."

"Was I in your dream?"

"Course you were."

He smiled and lifted an eyebrow. He pulled her a little closer. "Tell me about it."

She traced circles on the bedcovers with her index finger and replied, "Well, I've never had a dream quite like it before."

"Whatta you mean? You have to tell me about it now."

"I'm not quite sure how to…"

"Just tell me, honey."

She sighed. Looked at his face then back down at the pattern on the quilt. Then she slipped an arm around his waist, pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

He listened intently, his pale blue eyes darting around the room, unfocused, as he took in her story. Suddenly he asked, "What'd you do then?"

Her face was flushed, and she pulled him close again, put her lips to his ear, continued relating her dream to him.

His mouth dropped open and he pulled away. "Kitty! Really?"

She nodded silently.

"Well…honey, it was just a dream after all. But, how did it end up?"

Her cheeks blushed scarlet as she wrapped her arms around his neck and relayed the information into his ear. His brows climbed toward his hairline as she spoke and a silly grin stole over his features.

She finished and rested her head on her elbow again. She stared at him wordlessly, chewing on a thumbnail.

"Damn, Kitty, I just don't know what to say." He still wore his grin.

"Don't say a word, Matt Dillon."

"But…"

"Not one word…"

"Alright, but I'm not giving up hope that one of these days we can…"

"Matt."

"Okay."

"Matt?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I was…afraid you might not come home to me this time."

"Why, Kitty? I mean, my work is often dangerous. Why this time?"

"Because that dream was so real, Matt. I felt like you were right here in the room with me. It scared me somethin' awful. I couldn't sleep after that. I stayed up the rest of the night, thinkin' about you, about us, about all the good times we've had."

"Kitty, honey, we've talked about this. I wish you wouldn't worry so much. There isn't any sense in worrying because my job is risky every day. You'll worry yourself sick if you do that."

"I know, Matt, but this time was different. I could just…feel you…with me. I know it sounds awful silly."

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissed it softly. "I think about you all the time when I'm out there. I bring you with me, you are with me, in here." He tapped a finger on his chest, over his heart. "Thinking about you when I'm forced to do some of the things I do…it keeps me sane, sweetheart." He cleared his throat, averted his eyes. "But you probably think that sounds silly."

She placed a hand on his cheek. "No, Matt, of course not. It makes me happy that you're thinkin' of me when you're not with me." She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He heaved a big sigh. "Just last night, I was out there on the trail headed for Dodge, and I couldn't wait to get home to you. I was… I was feelin' pretty low because of how things went with those two bank robbers."

Kitty sat silently, holding his hand, not wanting to interrupt Matt's story.

"Yeah, Festus and I caught up with 'em but they wouldn't go down without a fight. We had to kill 'em. They'd murdered five innocent victims before we could do it though. I won't be forgettin' that any too soon."

She squeezed his hand in sympathy and dashed away a tear from the corner of her eye. She knew how badly Matt was hurting over this.

"And the last night on the trail, I couldn't sleep a wink, so I started thinkin' about you. You always seem to take my mind offa my problems, Kitty."

She smiled softly.

"I laid there for I don't know how long. Festus was a'sawin' them logs for a long time before I ever went to sleep. But I reminisced about…" He smiled shyly. "…our first night together. Remember that?"

"How could I forget, Cowboy? I had a hard time explaining to Bill Pence why my dress was downstairs in the office the next day."

"What did you tell him?"

"I don't remember exactly, but whatever it was, I don't think he quite believed me."

Matt chuckled. "I'll never forget that night, Kitty. And that last night on the trail, well, I was daydreamin' about you in the nighttime, Kitty."

"So, it was last night you were sleepless and thinkin' about me and old times together?"

"Yep."

"Well, I had my dream about you last night, too." She sharply raised an eyebrow. "Some coincidence, huh? We just got the newspaper report this mornin'. It was a two-day old Hays City newspaper that Doc got from a patient."

Matt's eyes opened wide and he pulled her close, kissing her temple. "We were just missing each other, Kitty. It was high time to be back together again."

"Guess you're right." Her eyes sparkled at him and one corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked smile. "Cause do you know how much I missed you, Matt?"

He grinned devilishly. "Why don't you show me, Miss Russell?"

Suddenly she sat up and straddled his belly, slim fingers raking the long red curls out of her heated blue eyes. She bit her plump bottom lip as she arched her back, hands coyly covering her ample breasts.

The sound Matt emitted at his glorious view was closer to a squeak than a manly U.S. Marshal vocalization.

She inquired in her most smoldering whiskey voice, "You did tell Festus to take your rounds for you tonight, right, Matt?"

He just nodded. No words sallied forth.

"So you can stay later than usual?"

Another nod, this time a little faster.

"Good. Cause you're a big man, Marshal Dillon, and it's gonna take me quite a while to kiss every inch a' you, you know." She winked at him, bent low and set to work.

"Ohhh… Kitty…"

end

ljljljljlj

Thanks for reading. ;-)