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Glancing out a nearby window, Eli noted his horse still tied up safely outside, and the streets were beginning to empty. As if sensing his gaze, Blackjack looked over at him, his ears flicking in his direction and his tail swaying. Blackjack let out a judgmental snort like he knew exactly what Eli was about to do, but Eli only sneered in response.
He gulped the rest of his whiskey, watching the last patrons stumble drunkenly out the door before flicking his gaze to you. A part of Eli loathed that they'd managed to catch his eye like this because he'd arrived here with much bigger plans. He was here to kill Sheriff Brown, not daydream about pretty faces. Then again, maybe he just needed a good fuck, and it wasn't like this little shithole town was big enough to have any harlots.
Taking one last drag of his half-smoked cigar, Eli stubbed it out and tucked it back in his pocket. He strode up to the counter and leaned on it intimidatingly, his hip cocked to show the revolver strapped to his side. "Want somethin' from ya, so yer comin' with me," He demanded huskily, jerking his head towards the stairs. His cock was fully erect in his pants, and he palmed it suggestively while looking them straight in the eyes.
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