Unfinished [Gunsmith/Magic Metal]

"Oh fuckoh fuckohfuck!" He cursed as he stumbled around the room, hiking up his pants and struggling to get dressed. The calico lounging in bed watched him, grinning. "Better hurry hun~" she purred, tail flicking as he crawled over her again.
"Fuck! Why did i let you convince me to stay!?" "You know why" he paused at that and growled back at her, grabbing her chin and kissing her hard, her rough tongue tangling and rasping over and around his own as she purred and moaned softly between breaths. He pulled back and leaned down, earning a GASP as he nuzzled into her softer pubic fur, sniffing deeply to memorize it and rubbing his mouth and grazing his teeth against her clit. She made that rumbling yowl only she could make as she rolled her hips, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling hard enough to get his attention. "GET. Before I shoot you myself" she rumbled, breathing heavily.
He pulled away and straightened his coat, buttoning his shirt to the last as he panted, grinning "better you than Boris and his crew, you'd miss my heart." The calico rolled her large emerald eyes and raised her pistol from behind the pillow, the elegant cannon he crafted for her over months. He felt his heart flutter before she lowered it and motioned to the window. He obeyed...just in time as he crawled out the window, a bellow came from below. "GUNSMYTH!" the accent croaked, followed by pounding footsteps.
The Smith was already gone, crawling over the ledged roof and leaping down onto the dusty road below. And into the unaware bumbling of a beagle who yelped and dropped his gun he had been fiddling with. The smith sprinted off of the goon and around to a large tarp. The beagle finally regained enough of himself to start baying "BOSS BOSS! I FOUND HIM!" No time to uncover all of his cart, he uncovered only the seat and began pouring gasoline into a collection pipe near his seat before pulling a lever and tossing a match down into the pipe. The effect was almost instant, with a roaring WOOSH and fire, the coach shot forward, sending the Smith lurching backwards as he struggled to turn the steering wheel. The goons who had rushed to apprehend him fell over themselves to get out of the way as he rocketed past.
A towering shadow of fur barely turned the corner to see the smith moving down pass the buildings and out of town. He grabbed his useless men and threw them bodily in the direction of their horses