Drop Dead Sexy

by Katie Ashley

  As Catcher choked and sputtered, I knew I had to do something, and that wasn’t calling 911. I picked up one of the rickety chairs and smashed it across the redneck’s back. “Fucking hell!” he shouted as pieces of splintered wood rained down on the floor.

  While the redneck staggered back, I grabbed one of the sticks off the pool table. When the redneck whirled around, I jabbed him in the crotch with the stick like I was a native islander spearing a fish. He squealed before falling to his knees. I then lobbed him in the back of the head. When I saw I had knocked him out, I quickly dropped down beside him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Catcher asked hoarsely, as he rubbed his throat.

  “Checking his pulse.” Thankfully, he still had one, so killing a redneck at the Rusty Ho wouldn’t stain my otherwise perfect record. Even though it would have been self-defense, my conscience still would have eaten me alive.

  Catcher grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to my feet. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He drew me to his side and began leading us through the fighting fray. “Duck!” he cried. A beer mug narrowly missed us before smashing into the bar. We had to weave and bob like a cobra to miss getting punched or jabbed. On the way out, Catcher grabbed his jacket and briefcase.

  When we got outside into the parking lot, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Catcher started leading me to his car when I tugged on his arm. “No,” I protested.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Wherever we’re going next, I’m going there in my own car. That way I can come and go as I please.”

  Catcher rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Fucking feminists.” At the sound of busting glass, we both whirled around. A man lay cut and bleeding on the pavement from where he had been thrown through one of the windows. “Where’s your car?” Catcher asked, never taking his eyes off the man.

  “Two rows over.”

  After unlocking the driver’s side door on his car, he reached into the side console and took out a gun. When I stared wide-eyed at him, he gave me a tight smile. “In case we need a little extra protection on the way to your car.”

  We had to step over the man on the ground. Thankfully, he was unconscious, so he didn’t pose any threat. The last thing we needed was to have a rumble in the parking lot.

  “Follow me. I’m staying at a Holiday Inn about a mile down the road.”

  “Okay.” After Catcher put me in the car, I locked the doors. While he started back to his car, I quickly cranked up. Before I could back up, a chair came flying out of the broken window and narrowly missed hitting my hood. With shaking hands, I threw the car in reverse and squealed out of the parking space. I felt a little relief at the sight of Catcher’s taillights a few feet in front of me. He put the pedal to the metal, and we thankfully left the Rusty Ho in our dust.

  As I sped along the two-lane road in the dark night, I couldn’t help wondering if this was some karmic retribution for having sex with a stranger. I tried ignoring the voice that questioned what else crazy might happen after I went back to Catcher’s hotel. Although I was concerned, it wasn’t enough to keep me away from Catcher. Maybe it was the long-overdue, post-orgasmic haze that was eradicating all rational thought. He was like the ultimate drug—I’d had a taste and now I was hooked.

  I couldn’t help sighing in relief when I saw that the Holiday Inn where Catcher was staying wasn’t a complete dive like the Rusty Ho. That place was going to scar me for life. At the same time, it couldn’t be classified as the Ritz. It appeared to have been built in either the late seventies or early eighties. In the end, the only thing that mattered was it wasn’t a total shithole.

  I eased my Accord into the space beside the black sedan Catcher was driving. Although it didn’t look like something he would drive, it screamed federal agent. He impressed me more as the type who would drive a flaming-red sports car. Not that he needed to compensate for his manhood. He had that in spades.

  Catcher flew out of his car and was at my door before I could even open it. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his handsome face etched with concern.

  My heart did a sappy pitter-patter at his concern. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

  Catcher tilted his head at me. “You call being sexually assaulted and partaking in a bar fight nothing?”

  “After the day I’ve had, it certainly pales in comparison.”

  Catcher chuckled as he shook his head. “As my late grandmother would say, ‘Honey, you just won’t do.”

  I laughed. “Sounds like something my grandmother would say. Well, if you threw in a few expletives.” I motioned my finger at his eyebrow. “While I appreciate your concern, you’re the one who is bleeding.”

  Catcher winced when he reached up to feel his busted brow. “Dumb fucker.”

  “Are you talking about you or the redneck?” I teasingly asked.

  Catcher snorted. “It should probably be me since I didn’t block that Neanderthal better.

  Considering he was a lumbering idiot, he was surprisingly quick.”

  “I would have to agree since he came out of nowhere at me.”

  Catcher cuffed my chin playfully. “You’re a tough cookie, Olivia Sullivan.”

  “Thank you, Catcher Mains.”

  We stood there staring into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. “Come on. Let’s get inside, so I can get inside you again,” Catcher said, in a husky, bedroom voice.

  My-oh-so-sexy response to his naughty words was to trip over my heels and almost face plant on the sidewalk.

  “Easy there. I need you to stay vertical.” With a wink, he added, “Well, at least for a little while.”

  “Okay. I’ll try,” I replied.

  Catcher threw an arm around my shoulder and drew me to him. We walked side by side into the lobby. Catcher ushered me in front of him to take the elevator to the tenth floor, which happened to be the highest floor. “Oh, you have the penthouse?” I teasingly asked.

  “Oh yeah. Just wait until you see the killer views I have of the abandoned textile mills.”

  I laughed. “Swanky.”

  “I demand only the best whenever I stay at a Holiday Inn.” Catcher slid the keycard into the slot and unlocked the door. “Ladies first,” he said, motioning for me to go in.

  “Thank you,” I replied, as I walked into the room. After I sat my purse down, I turned back to him. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I desperately need to wash away the grime of the Rusty Ho.”

  Catcher grinned. “As long as I can join you.”

  “Sure.”

  “First, I think we need to clean your eye up.”

  “Can’t I just hold it under the warm water, and call it a day?”

  “It needs cleaning,” I countered.

  “Fine,” he grumbled.

  “Go sit on the bed,” I instructed, as I dug my first aid kit out of my purse.

  “You seriously carry a first aid kit with you?”

  “Habit of the trade. More often than not, you have someone who gets hurt when investigating a death or when you go to pick up a body.”

  Catcher snorted as he flopped down on the mattress. “You are one hell of a woman,” he mused.

  I brought the kit over to him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should. I don’t think I’ve ever met such a fascinating woman who can fuck like a champ in a storeroom and then take down a redneck assaulter with a chair and a pool stick.”

  His summation of the night’s events had me giggling as I brought the antiseptic wipe to his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say I was always so fascinating. Tonight has certainly been something out of the ordinary for me in many ways.”

  Catcher winced before saying, “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  “You can say that again.” I leaned forward and blew on Catcher’s eyebrow to dry the antiseptic.

  He took me off guard by bringing hi
s hands to my thighs. I sucked in a breath as they slid my dress up over my hips. Dipping his head, he took one end of my thong between his teeth. When he jerked it, the flimsy material gave way. My legs began trembling as he kissed his way across my abdomen to the other side. When he repeated the process, the thong completely tore away from my body.

  Cool air swirled around my inflamed core as I stared down at Catcher. He gave me a cocky grin as he swept my thong from his mouth. “You owe me a pair of panties, Mr. Mains,” I said.

  “Would you take an orgasm instead?”

  I brought a finger to my chin in thought. “I guess that will have to do.”

  Catcher surprised me by flicking his tongue against my pussy. When I gripped his shoulders tightly and thrust my hips forward, he tilted his head at me. “You want to rethink that response.”

  I bit down on my lip and nodded my head, causing Catcher to chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get in the shower.”

  When he rose up off the mattress, his hands slipped around me to find my zipper. With a quick tug, he had the zipper down my back. His fingers came to the spaghetti straps on the dress. He pulled them down my arms, exposing my breasts. My nipples instantly hardened under his heated gaze.

  He must’ve grown impatient because the next thing I knew he was jerking the dress off my hips and down my thighs. When it lay on the floor, he stepped back to look at me. “Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.

  Warmth spilled across my cheeks and filled my core at his words and stare. I’d never had a man, least of all one I barely knew, make me feel so desired before. “I think it’s your turn now.”

  Catcher grinned. “Ready to see me unveiled in all my glory?”

  I laughed. “Yes. I am.”

  “I promise I’ll live up to the fantasy in your mind.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I brought my hands to loosen his tie. “If you’re not careful, we won’t be able to fit that big head of yours in this room.”

  “I know where another big head of mine fits snug and tight,” he replied.

  My gaze flew up to his. “You’re an egomaniac.” Of course, I did love his dirty-talking mouth.

  “Admit it. My big head felt really good in your tight pussy.” His voice had dropped into that warm, husky tone again. The one that had both me and my vagina mesmerized. Like he was holding a swinging watch before us and hypnotizing us while saying You’re getting very horny.

  “I suppose it did,” I answered as I unbuttoned his shirt.

  “Ha, you suppose.” Catcher dipped his head to where his breath scorched against my ear. “You and I both know how good you liked it. Your pussy had my cock in a death vise.”

  After unbuckling and sliding off his belt, I put the ends together and cracked it. “You should be spanked for the way you’re talking to me.”

  Lust burned bright in Catcher’s blue eyes. “Hmm, you like a little S&M?”

  I didn’t want to admit to Catcher the closest I’d gotten to whips and chains was the time in undergrad when I tagged along on a call to Club 1740 in Atlanta where a seventy-year-old dude had a heart attack after being hogtied and whipped. Since the guy had been a regular, he’d gone out doing what he’d loved, but at the same time, it was slightly horrifying to his children that their dad wasn’t vanilla and had croaked in a sex club.

  So I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Catcher captured my chin between his fingers and tsked at me. “You’re lying through your teeth.”

  Damn him and his GBI body language training. “Fine. I’ve been a hundred percent vanilla in my sex life. Happy?”

  With a grin, Catcher said, “Don’t feel bad, babe. It’s not like I’m Master Mains, and I’m going to whip out a flogger. I don’t need embellishment when I fuck. Now, if you wanna blindfold me or tie me up, I’m all for it.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” I asked as I slid his pants off his delectable ass.

  “Do you want someone to tie you up and blindfold you?”

  “Maybe…the blindfold more than the tying up.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’d have to really know and trust a person before I let them tie me up.”

  “I think that’s part of the whole BDSM idea thing. You know, trust and consent. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t let just anyone tie me up.”

  “I’m glad you’re good with just sticking with the basics.”

  “As long as I get to stick it in you, I’m good,” Catcher teased with a grin.

  “You’re impossible,” I muttered.

  “Impossibly well endowed.”

  I laughed as I smacked his impossibly defined six pack. “Enough with the innuendo.” My thumbs dipped into the waistband of his briefs. I tugged them down over his hips and legs. Once they were on the floor, I swept my gaze to his package. Although I had already seen and felt his masterful dick, I couldn’t help admiring it once again.

  It soon began to swell under my appreciative gaze. “There you go getting the big head again,” I teased.

  Catcher laughed. “It can’t help himself. When a lady looks at him the way you were, he has to show his appreciation.”

  Using my index finger, I tapped the bobbing erection. “You’re going to have to be patient and let me get cleaned up before I show you any more attention.” Then when I realized what I had just done, I swept my hand over my eyes. “Oh my God, you’ve got me talking to your dick.”

  “Don’t feel bad. I talk to him a lot.”

  I peeked at him through my fingers. “You do?”

  “Sure. Don’t you ever talk to yours?”

  “Well, since I don’t have a penis, that would be no.”

  Catcher rolled his eyes. “Not a dick, your pussy.”

  “Um, no.”

  “Maybe you should start.” He grinned. “After all, she deserves some compliments since she’s an awfully nice pussy.”

  I laughed as I shook my head. “Thank you.”

  “I’m serious. I’ve known quite a lot of pussies in my day, and by far, yours is one of the nicest.”

  At the mention of his man-whoring, I reached over and pinched his nipple and not in a fun, sexual way. Although it was only about tonight for us, I still didn’t like to hear him talk about other women…or other pussies.

  Catcher winced. “Sorry. It is the nicest.”

  “Don’t you know it isn’t polite to brag about your sex life in front of me?”

  “I wasn’t bragging; I was just stating facts.”

  “Would you like a paddle to help you up Shit Creek in your douchecanoe?”

  Catcher threw his head back with a laugh. “Liv Bug, I do love your sassy mouth.”

  “Does that mean you’ll watch yours?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will.” I started to nod when he added, “I’ll watch my mouth go all over your body.”

  I groaned. “I give up.”

  Catcher chuckled and held out his hand. As I slipped my hand in his, I said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He then led me into the bathroom. While he bent over to turn on the shower, I ignored the urge to stare at his ass, and instead, I checked my reflection in the mirror. Even after the storeroom fuckfest, my hair and makeup were holding up remarkably well. I would have to give Jill some more thanks for her mad skills.

  Once the water appeared to be just right, Catcher slid back the shower curtain and crooked his finger at me. Ever the gentleman, he helped me inside before following behind me. I moaned as the scorching hot water beat against my back.

  “Hey now, save those moans for me and not inanimate objects,” Catcher said, as he tore into one of the hotel’s wrapped bars of soap.

  “I’ll try.”

  After lathering up his hands, Catcher went straight for my breasts. Kneading them, cupping them, squeezing them. It was seriously working me up. I gasped when he tweaked and pinched my nipples.

  “Gotta make sure those are squeaky clean,” he said, with a grin.
>
  “I didn’t realize I was such a dirty girl.”

  “Hmm, I plan to clean you up just to get you down right filthy.”

  I shivered in spite of the scalding water. With both Jesse and Eric, it had taken time for them to warm up to using dirty talk. Catcher, on the other hand, came right out swinging with it. And so help me, I loved it.

  Catcher eased me back into the shower stream to rinse my breasts. When his hand dipped between my legs, I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” I panted.

  “Hold back. I want to hear you—every moan and groan, especially the screams.” As if to elicit a quick response, his fingers stroked my clit harder. This time I didn’t hold back. I threw my head back and groaned. “That’s nothing. Wait until I get my mouth on you.”

  I whimpered. “Please. Now.”

  Catcher obliged me by sinking down onto his knees. His strong hands gripped my thighs and pushed them apart. He nudged my pussy with his nose before placing licks along my inner thighs. When his tongue lapped at my clit, I rewarded him with a hearty grunt. My torso leaned back against the shower wall while I propped one leg up on the ledge to give Catcher easier access.

  The man must’ve graduated from the Academy of Pussy Eating with top honors. Maybe even the Valedictorian. I’m not sure how he was able to swirl his tongue around my clit while simultaneously sucking it. It was multitasking as its finest.

  When he spread me apart with his fingers, I expected to feel them pumping inside me.

  But he used his tongue instead while his mouth and even his teeth pressed down on my clit.

  “I’m going to come!” I cried.

  “Yeah, baby. Come hard around my tongue.” His words vibrated around my pussy.

  I wanted to argue with him that if I came, my already rubbery legs were going to give way. But instead, I rode out the pleasure like I was on the back of a bucking bronco. I held on for dear life not to miss a single thing. I made Catcher’s face my bitch as my hips pumped furiously for added friction. If I thought the Rusty Ho storeroom orgasm was hot, this was like scorching hot magma pouring over me.