Drop Dead Sexy

by Katie Ashley

  Catcher chuckled. “I’ll admit it was a little freaky, but whatever power she has, Olive uses for good.”

  Wanting a subject change, I asked, “Now the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, can you tell me why you were investigating the Dixie Mafia?”

  “We’ve been looking for one of their members who is a drug kingpin. He came under our radar a few months ago. He’s been running drugs across Georgia into Alabama and Tennessee.”

  “Who is he?”

  “We really don’t know.”

  I arched my brows in surprise. “You don’t know?”

  Catcher nodded. “He’s called The Shadow. No one can adequately identify him. Most of the men under him have never seen him—his orders come over a go phone or an email. He’s been known to alter his appearance with minor plastic surgery, hair and eye color changes, and weight that yo-yos fifty pounds. We’re not sure if the weight is something he actually does to alter himself, or if it has to do with him being on drugs.”

  “Do you think this Shadow guy and Ronald might know each other?”

  “It’s possible. Hell, with this case, anything is possible. I’m trying to pin down something that has The Shadow, Delaney, and Ronald all together.”

  “Could Delaney be The Shadow?”

  “While we haven’t completely ruled that out yet, I don’t think he is.”

  “It’s too ironic your case with The Shadow and Randy’s murder ran together. It was like our paths were destined to cross.” Oh jeez. Had I really said one of the worst cliché’s out loud?

  Catcher’s response came in the form of a grunt. When I glanced over at him, his expression was pained. “What’s wrong?”

  He grimaced. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure? You look like you’re hurting.”

  “I’m fine.”

  The next thing I knew he’d whipped the car off the main road and driven into a heavy thicket of trees. “Catcher, what in the world are you doing?”

  He slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park before turning to me with a wild expression and crazed eyes. “We have to fuck. Now.”

  Before I could ask him if he had lost his mind, my gaze dropped to his crotch. “Holy shit!” The bulge straining against the zipper of his pants was bigger than it had ever been. It was huge. Like colossally huge. “What happened to you?”

  “After you ran out of the work shed, Olive snuck me some man yarb to try,” he explained as his hips bucked up. His head fell back against the headrest, and he groaned as his pelvis swiveled. Beads of sweat began to line his forehead.

  “Are you insane? After Ronald’s dick blew up, you actually thought it was a good idea to take that shit?”

  Catcher gritted his teeth. “Olive doesn’t make the stuff that blew up Ronald’s dick. Hers is safe.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like she has FDA approval.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he bit down on his lip as his hand went to shift the bulge. “Fuuuck,” he groaned.

  “Okay, regardless of whether or not it was safe, why in the world would you take it now?”

  “I thought it would be a while for it to take effect. Like we would get home, and I’d be ready.” After his hips punched forward again, he lunged at me. He took my face between his hands. “Baby, please. I’ve got to get inside you.”

  I knew I couldn’t leave him high and dry in his hour of desperation. There was also something very erotic about a man pleading with you for sex. It was a hell of a power trip. “Backseat?”

  Relief momentarily flickered on his face. After throwing a glance over his shoulder, he shook his head. “Too small.”

  After swallowing hard, I suggested, “Outside.”

  Catcher nodded. “The hood.”

  While I was glad he didn’t plan to nail me up against a tree, I hadn’t exactly planned to become a hood ornament. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  We scrambled out of the doors and around the front of the car. Catcher crashed into me, his mouth frantically meeting my own. He kissed like a man on death row—desperate, intense, and consuming.

  His hands slid up under my dress and ripped my flimsy thong from my body. “You’re going to owe me a fortune in underwear, Mr. Neanderthal,” I teased breathlessly.

  Catcher grunted in response as he worked his pants down over his hips. My mouth ran dry at the sight of his erection. Below the waist, moisture pooled between my legs. Olive’s potion didn’t hold back any punches. I decided then it was just best to go with the flow and let Catcher do what he needed to do to find relief. “Take me,” I instructed.

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He whirled me around and placed my hands on the hood of the car. Using one of his knees, he knocked my legs wide apart. His fingers dug into my hips as he slammed into me, causing me to shriek.

  Catcher immediately froze. “Oh fuck, did I hurt you?”

  Turning my head, I glanced back to see his apologetic expression. “No, no. It’s good.”

  “Thank God,” he murmured. He slid slowly out of me only to slam back again. His dick then began a relentless pounding of my pussy. My fingers curled on top of the hood, and I knew my nails were going to leave scratch marks on the paint. I’d never had it so hard or so rough. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was going to be deliciously sore for days. My first order of business after returning home would be to write Olive a thank you letter and ask her for a six-month supply of man-enhancing yarb. That and to put an ice pack on my pulverized vag.

  One of Catcher’s hands came to intertwine in my hair. When he gave the strands a harsh tug, the feeling, coupled with the pounding, sent me into a screaming orgasm. After I came back to myself, I realized Catcher was still going.

  And like the Energizer Bunny, he kept going and going. He flipped me over to lie on top of the hood before continuing to drill me. It was when I came the second time that Catcher tensed and came flooding in me. And just like the pounding, his orgasm went on and on.

  When he finally finished, he collapsed onto me and let out a long, agonized groan. “You okay?” I questioned.

  He raised his sweat-soaked head to look at me. “Holy fucking shit.”

  I giggled. “I guess that’s a yes.”

  “Some pharmaceutical company should invest in Olive’s man enhancer. It’s worth a fortune.”

  “That good, huh?”

  Catcher whistled. “Not that every time with you isn’t good.”

  “Nice save.”

  He laughed. “But this was out-of-this-world good. I didn’t think I was ever going to stop coming.” He cocked his brows at me. “Was it good for you, too?”

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure good isn’t the right word. Phenomenal. Overwhelming. Life-altering. Those seem more accurate.”

  Catcher grinned. “Damn. What a high.” He frowned slightly. “Overall, I’d have to say that the mood was slightly dampened by my original fear that my dick was going to explode like Ronald’s.”

  “So does that mean you won’t become an addict?”

  “No. I think it’s best to leave it alone. It’s not like I’m hurting in that area.”

  I grinned as I craned my neck to kiss him. “You’re magnificent. “

  “Stop. You’ll make me blush,” he teased.

  At the faraway sound of a car, I pushed Catcher off me. “We better get out of here before someone sees us.”

  He snorted. “I can see the headlines now. GBI Agent and Coroner arrested for public indecency and lewd behavior.” When he reached for his pants, he groaned. “Shit.”

  “What?” I asked as I slid off the hood. I was momentarily distracted from Catcher’s question by the fact I had spunkiness going on between my legs. I sure as hell hoped Catcher had some napkins in his dash so that I could clean up.

  When I looked at him, his expression was ashen. “I forgot a condom.”

  “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

  “You are?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Even though it seems like a ludic
rous idea for a woman not having sex to be on birth control, trust me, I am.”

  Catcher exhaled a relieved breath that came out more as a wheeze. “Not quite ready to make little Catchers yet, are you?” I teasingly asked.

  “Not yet.” He jerked his pants up before smiling at me. “Not until I put a ring on your finger.”

  I stared wide-eyed at him before shaking my head. “For you to say that aloud, I think all the blood in your head went to your dick.”

  He chuckled. “Not today, babe. But someday.”

  Even though he was still tripping in an amazing sex haze, I knew he was serious. It should have alarmed me considering we barely knew each other, but it didn’t. Instead, it made me feel all warm and gooey on the inside like I was thirteen again and getting asked out to the movies by my crush. It felt hella surreal to be wanted and desired by a strong, handsome, amazing man.

  I was pretty blown away that despite the short amount of time we’d spent together, Catcher still saw a future for us. And I felt the same way. I was just hoping and praying that the other shoe wouldn’t drop because Agent Sexy-Ass Mains had gotten under my skin.

  The next few days passed without any crazy incidents or further information on Randy’s murder. Catcher was asked to consult on a different drug case while he was waiting on leads for both Randy and The Shadow. As for me, it was pretty slow at Sullivan’s with only one service to preside over.

  Although Catcher was busy and lived forty-five minutes away, it didn’t stop him from burning up the phone lines and roads to see me. And whenever we were together, our sex life set fire to whatever surface we could find be it the bed, the floor, the bathtubs at our houses, the backseat of his convertible. Thankfully, we were pretty creative when it came to places to have sex….and flexible. Of course, after my pounding on the car hood, it took me a couple of days for my vag to feel like its old self and be fully operational again.

  But our physical connection was becoming rivaled by the emotional connection we had. Even though it had only been a week, I was starting to envision a future with Catcher. The rational side of me reasoned that it was ridiculous and “insta-love” wouldn’t last. But the teenage girl in me sent me doodling Mrs. Olivia Mains or I Love Catcher on my notepad while taking down funeral information. Oh yes, it was just that sickening.

  On the fateful day that led to me being bound and gagged outside of a sexual scenario, I was in my office catching up on paperwork when the phone rang. I couldn’t hide my goofy grin when I saw it was Catcher. “Hey you.”

  “Hey, babe, I’ve got some news.” He sounded out of breath.

  I leaned forward in my chair. “What’s up?”

  “You’re never going to believe this.”

  “Considering what we’ve seen in the last week, try me.”

  “You know how I told you we’ve had a secret informant giving us information on The Shadow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Turns out, Mr. Delaney was the informant.”

  I gasped. “You’re joking.”

  “It’s crazy, but I’m not.”

  “How did you guys find out?”

  “Our IT department started decoding Delaney’s laptop, and then all the emails from him to us showed up.”

  “So that means that Krump killed Delaney too?”

  “Yup. Apparently Krump worked as a hitman for the Dixie Mafia back in the day.”

  “And he’s definitely out of prison?”

  “Yeah, somehow the fucker got released six months ago. Allegedly for good behavior.”

  “I’m guessing the twenty-five years in prison didn’t change him since he’s been on a killing spree since he got out.”

  “It’s looking that way. Listen, I gotta run up to Ellijay to have Olive sign a deposition. You wanna come with me. We could have lunch at that barbecue joint we liked. I know you said you wanted to go downtown and look in all the shops.”

  “I really need to stay here and do paperwork.”

  Catcher grunted. “You can do paperwork anytime. It’s a beautiful day, and I’ve got the top down.”

  Damn him. He was such a bad influence on me. As I nibbled my lip, I glanced down at Motown who was snoozing at my feet. “Can I bring Motown along? He loves car rides.”

  At the mere mention of “car”, Motown’s furry head jerked up, and he stared pleadingly at me.

  “Sure you can bring him along. The more the merrier.”

  I grinned into the phone. “Okay. Where can we meet you?”

  “Come down to Jasper. We’ll meet at the shopping center off Hwy 515.”

  “Okay. See you in thirty minutes.”

  “Bye, Liv-bug.”

  My heart flip-flopped. “Bye, Catcher.”

  After meeting up, Catcher, Motown, and I headed north to Ellijay. We bypassed the barbecue place, so we could eat outside at one of the cafés downtown that was dog friendly. We did a little window-shopping, and then Catcher babysat Motown while I went inside a few places.

  Once we were finished, we headed up the mountain to Olive’s. When we passed the turnoff where we’d had our hood hookup, I couldn’t help giggling.

  “What is it?”

  “I was just thinking about our sexcapade out in those woods.”

  Catcher waggled his brows. “Oh yeah.”

  “Just make sure while you’re signing the deposition you don’t let Olive slip you any more male-enhancer.”

  “Are you sure? That was some pretty epic fucking.”

  “Yes, it was. But I’m not sure my vagina can withstand another pounding like that.”

  Catcher chuckled. “Okay, okay. No more man yarb for me.”

  We pulled into Olive’s driveway. Since she didn’t own a phone, we hadn’t been able to call ahead to see if she was home. I guess we could have tried Jewell at The Crow’s Caw.

  I had just reached for the door handle when my phone rang. After seeing it was Allen, I turned to Catcher. “Go on in. I need to take this.”

  “Sure thing.

  “Hey. What’s up?” I asked as I answered the phone.

  “I’ve got a real cunt-bag on the phone who is demanding to talk to you.”

  “Take a message, and I’ll call her back.”

  “Uh, yeah, Ace, thanks for the tip. I’ve already done that. She keeps calling back.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Felicia Brown.”

  I groaned. The unfeeling widow whose sons’ antics had led to all the craziness last week. “You have got to be joking.”

  “She’s saying we’re charging her for things she didn’t agree to.”

  “Patch her through,” I muttered. When the phone beeped, I said, “Hello, Mrs. Brown. What seems to be the problem?”

  I spent the next ten minutes arguing with Mrs. Brown and defending my business tactics. Finally, I’d had enough. “Look, I’m not going to discuss this with you anymore. Either you pay the bill, or I’ll see you in small claims court.” When she started arguing with me again, I shouted, “Bye, Felicia!” into the phone before hanging up.

  “What a bitch,” I grumbled as I tossed my phone into my purse. I threw a glance in the backseat to see Motown snoring away. “Figures. You sleep through everything, including me yelling at a cunt-bag,” I mused.

  When I opened the car door to go join Catcher, Motown raised his head. “Stay, boy. I’ll be right back.” He yawned and then lay back down.

  As I made my way across the yard, I was surprised I didn’t see or hear Olive’s hound dogs like I had the other day. They were probably off chasing squirrels in the woods. I climbed the steps and made my way across the porch. When I knocked on the front door, it creaked open. “Catcher? Olive?”

  After pushing the door wide, I saw the living room and kitchen were empty. I stepped inside. “Hellloooo?”

  “Well hello.”

  The sound of a strange and incredibly creepy voice had me whirling around. A heavyset man in a red and white checked flannel shirt stood blocking the front door.
I swallowed the rising panic down in my throat at the sight of Creepy Voice.

  Oh shit. Oh shitty-shit-SHIT! This was so bad. My gaze bounced around the room, desperately searching for any sign of Catcher. Although I should’ve been concerned about Olive’s whereabouts too, Catcher was the one with a gun and hand-to-hand combat training.

  Slowly, I started inching toward the back door. If I could just get outside, I might have a chance to get away. I’d been a half-way decent runner back in the day when I ran track in high school. But then I bumped into something warm and fleshy. When I spun around, an overweight man in a John Deere hat grunted at me. The next thing I knew he pointed a shotgun at me. “Let’s go.”

  John Deere grabbed my arm and dragged me down the porch steps. My heart was beating so frantically that I was afraid it was going to explode right out of my chest. Fear had me almost paralyzed. I would’ve been frozen in place if I hadn’t been forced along by the burly redneck.

  When he shoved me toward the hillside, I momentarily faltered. Nothing good could come from going up there. John Deere and Creepy Voice were either going to take me into the woods and rape and kill me, or they were going to take me into the work shed and rape and kill me.

  I didn’t want to die. Not now. Not after I’d finally found a man to love and have hot sex with. That would just be entirely too cruel.

  John Deere jabbed the shotgun into my back. “Move it.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Please don’t kill me,” I whimpered.

  “That ain’t up to us. Ronald will make the decision on that one,” Creepy Voice said.

  Oh God. There could only be one Ronald he was talking about. The one who had shot Randy and poisoned Mr. Delaney. Swallowing hard, I pushed my trembling legs forward. Somehow I found the strength to make it up the hillside. John Deere escorted me into the work shed. What I saw before me brought fresh tears to my eyes.

  It was Catcher, and thankfully, he was alive. Of course, it was an epic bummer that his wrists were bound by rope, and his arms were tied over his head to one of the wooden beams in the middle of the room. His eyes widened at the sight of me. “I’m sorry, Liv,” he lamented.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have never asked you to come along today.”