by Billi Jean
His bedroom was a different story. It was a mess. She didn’t even bother trying to hold back from telling him so either. He just shrugged and grinned and told her she could help him clean it up.
For some reason that comment had made her get all fluttery inside like a silly girl.
Maybe I am a silly girl—over Cody.
Maybe that’s okay, too.
Just being there made her feel oddly pleased. She knew exactly why they’d ended up there and not at her place after her climb. He wanted her to know where he lived. Now she knew. It was a nice house, too. The place didn’t glow like Ace’s, but she’d bet her last dollar, Ace’s place had been the same before Lacy had gotten her hands on it. She might be able to convince Lacy to do some of the same for Cody.
“I like this place, but seriously…you need to clean your room if you even think for one minute I’m staying the night.”
“Naw, we’ll go to your friend’s place. It’s cozier.”
“Good, and fumigate, too,” she added with a stern frown. “It smells like a brewery in there.”
“Yeah, yeah, so you said. I’ll open the windows and when we come back over, you can help me clean.”
She nodded easily at that. He’d helped her, after all. Right now he was pretty cute getting all the things he needed for a sleepover and the fishing trip. She’d already made it clear that it wasn’t going to be a camping-under-the-stars sleepover. She hated camping out. Avoided it like the plague. She’d done it, but she’d hated every time her work had her miserable and cold waiting on something she couldn’t have cared less about by the time something actually happened. Stakeouts. No one liked them.
Was Cody staking out her place? He sure had enough in his overnight bag. But he’d not packed whiskey. Not one bottle. But she’d not seen any lying around—full, that is. There were two in his kitchen trash. That kind of drinking had to mean something. He didn’t act like an alcoholic or smell like one. Lord knew he’d sweated enough around her. She would have known. So that meant what?
His phone suddenly buzzed on the counter, the sound making her glance up to see him frowning at it.
“Hell, that’s my buddy about his cows,” he said.
“You haven’t been looking for them, have you?” she asked, walking over to tug at his belt loop. “You should. I can go with you,” she offered, for some insane reason, like maybe she wanted to spend time with him.
“You will?” he questioned, appearing as if that idea meant a whole lot more to him than to her. This is more than a sex vacation.
“Get your phone, Cody,” she teased, handing it to him. “I’ll go. I won’t be of any use, though,” she added.
He backed her to the counter and with one of his intense expressions, brought her close to his body. “You’re wrong. So wrong, it’s kinda funny how you could say something so damn dumb when I know you’re one hell of a smart woman.”
With that, he answered his phone with a none too friendly hello. He let her go, but not without watching her close enough to make her shiver. She listened to him explain that he’d not found a trace of the missing cows, while she walked around his living room, enjoying being in his home. She could see where he’d simply lived there, but not really lived. There just wasn’t any sign of activity, outside of the dusty football on the shelf and the fishing poles and some hunting gear. The whiskey bottles worried her. Whiskey was a tough choice for drinking. Beer was one thing, but hard alcohol made you sloppy, she knew.
“All right, well, I’ll go out tomorrow and let you know,” Cody said, then added, “I’ll call you, okay? Give me some time. It’s a big country, right?”
His friend must have agreed because they ended the call with Cody saying something rude under his breath then shaking his head with a glance at her to see if she’d heard, she thought.
“Looks like we’ll go out tomorrow. Not so early, though,” he added with one of those winces she liked. He rubbed his neck and exhaled deeply. “Fishing is off for a few days then but we’ll take my stuff up if that’s okay?”
“Are you not drinking because of me, Cody?” she asked instead of answering such a silly question. Of course he could take his stuff to her place. She had already decided he could.
He froze at the question and gave her what she secretly called the ‘cut me some slack’ glare. With a low grumble of something to do with women under his breath, he planted his hands flat on the counter, leaned in and stared her square in the eye. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but resisted the urge and merely turned her attention to her nails.
“I am not drinking because, for some insane reason, I want to take a woman fishing—a sport that requires concentration, skill and quiet if you hope to accomplish it with any success whatsoever.”
“Oh, well, that really has me out of the running for gold then.” She patted his ass on her way by to the door.
He captured her easily and smacked her butt, she guessed because he thought he could. She tugged his head with his hair and sorted him out.
“I just want to know what will happen when I’m not here to entertain you,” she whispered, only half teasing.
“I thought I was entertaining you, sassy pants,” he muttered with a mock wince at her grip on his hair.
“Oh, is that so?” She gentled her hold. “Well, you are doing a pretty good job. Now where are you planning to take us fishing, Alaska? That’s a lot of equipment.”
“Damn, do you ever rest? Take a nap? Relax on a beautiful day and just stay put?” he demanded when she dropped her handful of hair. He let her go only to pull her back and give her face a quick scan. “I was drinking hard, but it was for more reasons than losing my leg and it seems to be gone now, so yeah, no more whiskey needed. It’s messed-up shit that I’d rather not talk about, but if you insist, we can do an Oprah show right now.”
She smirked. “Isn’t that doctor what’s his name? Phil? His show deals with stuff like that. Oprah does movie stars.”
He shook his head and blew out a frustrated sounding breath.
“Sorry,” she offered, actually feeling a bit sorry for teasing him. Sometimes her smart mouth got the better of her. “I don’t sit still often enough to watch TV shows, I don’t even know who The Bachelor is, or care. But I’m glad you don’t need whiskey any longer.”
“Sonya,” he sighed and settled his arms around her waist and watched her face. “That’s good. But we should talk, too, maybe while we’re fishing.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk. That was one of the three pillars of gold medal fishing you just offered up.”
“Woman,” he growled then did the most surprising thing of all.
He tickled her.
Not just a light whisper of his fingers over her ribs, where he knew she was sensitive, but an all out tickle war, which she lost because he obviously wasn’t human and had no spots. She nearly peed herself until she gasped breathlessly that she might. Then he pulled her off the floor, examined her face, seemed to believe her and helped her straighten her clothes.
“Fine, but next time you better go ahead because that smart mouth of yours is going to get that every time.”
Every time? She opened her mouth to argue.
He closed it with his finger under her chin. “Nope, not going to win this one,” he whispered theatrically. “Do you really have to pee?”
She giggled at the way he said that, as if it was a delicate thing he wasn’t sure he should bring up.
“Woman,” he muttered, then took her hand to get her moving out of the door. “Next time, I’ll just keep on tickling you until you do pee just for lying,” he warned.
“Next time, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’ll see.” She hugged his big arm. “When we come back here, maybe?”
“Sure thing. We’ll be back. We need to see which mattress will keep you in bed past dawn.”
She smiled and rubbed his arm all the way down to his hand, to thread their fingers tog
ether. This had been a very fun day and it wasn’t even over. Tomorrow they’d go riding—western style. She’d be on a round-up. A real round-up.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked, following him to the horses.
He stopped so suddenly that she barreled into his side. Of course he didn’t even wobble.
“What? Should I bring…?” He gestured back to his house vaguely.
“Well, I don’t cook,” she said. “I was going for another protein bar and maybe some of the fruit, but you eat more than I do. I could get another pizza out of the—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he interrupted. “You mean to tell me all you’ve had to eat all day is a protein bar?”
She hesitated to agree when he said it that way, so she nodded, interested to see what he’d say and do next. Not letting her down, he cursed like a sailor under his breath as if she wouldn’t hear him then let out a frustrated breath.
Hands fisted on his hips, he sized her up like she was for dinner. “Fine, fine, okay, I’ll cook.”
“Can you?” she asked, curious. “Cook?”
“Yeah, I’m a damn good cook, too. Let me get some steaks out of—”
“I have those, in a chest freezer. It’s full of meat. All kinds, I think. There should be steak in there, too. My friend said there was enough in there to feed an army.”
He examined her face like she might be teasing him, but finally nodded. “Fine, let’s go. It’s getting late. You have to be starving.”
She didn’t agree or disagree with that because he was ready for her to disagree. When she didn’t say a word, he snorted and got back to walking.
Around and around we go, she thought, beginning to relax. He really was interesting, and more fun than the mind-blowing orgasms he delivered every time. And he could cook, as well. He cheated at pillow fights and there had to be at least one ticklish spot on him, but all in all, Cody was one surprising man.
“This is one fun ride, Cody,” she murmured when he glanced at her.
He appeared caught off guard for only a second before he gave her the cocky grin she got when he made her toes curl. “Good, then maybe you won’t want to get off.”
Chapter Fourteen
The jet Eric had purchased was top of the line. So was the pilot and the sexy airline stewardess. Too bad she wasn’t his match because he was rocking one hell of a need for sex, even if his junk didn’t agree.
“How much longer until landing?” he asked her and took the Scotch on the rocks off her tray.
“Two hours, sir.”
“Arrange for a vehicle, something that can go off road as well as look good on the street. I’ll need it at the airport, waiting on me when we land,” he added sternly.
She nodded and turned to leave. Her ass was a piece of artwork so he watched her walk away until she’d sashayed out of the cabin. Only then did he pull his phone out. He needed to ensure that Jason had that modified shit right.
Jason answered on the second ring, which surprised Eric. The little weasel had been enjoying the drug more often and now that he’d cleaned up, had drawn some hot babes. Eric had been forced to go in and knock him around to get the point that right now, until he had this modification fixed, he was on duty and that wasn’t dick duty.
“Hey, man,” Jason answered.
“You got any progress for me?” Eric asked, not bothering with hello.
“I do,” Jason said, sounding excited. “I tried what you recommended. The matching strain was what was fouling it up, I think, but it’s hard to work that out. I need—” Jason paused and Eric heard something in the background, a woman maybe, before Jason went on, “you.”
“Me?” Eric demanded. “Why the fuck do you need me? I can’t make tails of that brainy shit.”
“You, well…because you have this DNA match, right?”
Eric swallowed a sip of the amazing Scotch and savored it. The bottle probably cost a fortune, but he had the money. Jason was saying he needed to see if the new product worked on Eric’s link to Mindy. “Shit, why didn’t you tell me this before I got on a plane?”
“I tried to, but you were—”
“Never mind,” Eric muttered, watching the brunette walk back in on her four inch heels. He bet she had some kind of sexy cunt with all the pampering she did to her body. She had small breasts but the big ass to make up for it. “I’m out of town now for a few days. When I’m back, we’ll make some sense of it. Until then, you try it out and make it perfect. Remember, a lot is counting on this,” he added sharply.
The brunette—Kayla, he read on her name tag—leaned over across from him and pulled out something from the bottom of the seat. His dick didn’t even twitch from the perfect set of ass cheeks outlined under her tight gray skirt.
“Where are you?” Jason asked.
Without thinking, Eric snarled, “Wyoming. Don’t fuck this up.” He hung up.
This was getting unreasonable. He shifted his gaze off the babe and out of the window, then got up and stalked to the cabin. “Don’t disturb me until we land,” he called.
If she answered he didn’t hear because he slammed the door. “What the fuck!” He punched the side of the plane and grimaced from the pain. Normally he’d be fucking harder than stone by now. Just the anger alone used to do it. Now, nothing.
He shed his suit jacket and tugged the rest of his clothes off until he was naked and facing the full-length mirror. His body had lost a great deal of the packed muscle, but he still had the eight pack and solid firm body he’d always relied on—except the most important one. He glared at his limp dick, hanging down like a used sock from his hips. His balls were just as useless and flaccid. He narrowed his eyes at the reflection and walked closer. Every muscle flexed and tensed perfectly. He concentrated on fucking the flight attendant after he made her suffer, but nothing, not even his hottest fantasy, had his dick waking up.
“This shit is bad, very fucking bad,” he muttered and turned back to his bed where he’d stowed his suitcase. Inside, he pulled out the bottle of Duke’s drug. After a bit he found the Chung drug, the pills still inside, neglected for the better, more powerful Duke concoction. He flipped the lid of the second bottle and dropped two white pills in his palm, then swallowed them both. Chung’s drug hadn’t made him match his DNA to one woman. Maybe it would solve this problem. If not, something else will.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Jason again. Things had to change, and if it meant scrapping Duke’s shit, he was in trouble. Chung’s drug had side effects that made it much more dangerous—but maybe they could fix that shit. Or maybe people wanted a bullshit drug that made you reliant on one person for a thrill, he thought, unable to comprehend that anyone’s stupidity would reach that far.
“Yeah?”
“I have a change in plans,” he said, “Get me more of that first drug—only for me, you understand? And I want it by the time I get back,” he added, turning to watch his reflection in the glass.
“When will that be?” Jason asked.
He felt the slow increase in his heart rate he’d always found from the drug and studied his eyes in the mirror. They were bloodshot, but that have might been from the long days. His next breath brought a rush of the old, all-powerful feeling back to his muscles. His dick still didn’t lift, but he breathed deeper in relief. It would. If not, he knew exactly how to get it up.
“As soon as I take care of some things,” he answered vaguely, hanging up right after and trying out his grin on his new face. He looked hot, kinda a tough guy hot. “Sonya, you are going to pay for this shit.”
She’d been the one to get him hooked up with Duke, the drug and the new facelift. She’d shaken her ass and he’d followed. Now he’d take what she’d flaunted and when he did, he’d kill her. Just thinking of that, using her body and watching the life leave her as he did had his dick remembering its job.
“Hell, yeah, you like that, huh?” he asked, watching the way the long flesh filled and like a champ lifted from his hips to a fully c
apable hard-on. “Hell, yeah, I like it hard, but if you need it harder, I can walk that road, man.”
He smirked at his dick and prepared the bedroom for the rest of the ride. By the time he had the restraints in place, he was already sweating from the images of the things he’d do to the big assed flight attendant.
She’d do until he could do the real show for Sonya.
* * * *
Sonya rode easily next to him, so in tune with her horse, he’d bet she had learned at an early age. She was used to an English saddle, but that didn’t hold her back from teasing him about how huge the saddle was and adding that she liked the way she fit with him on his saddle better.
“How long’s it been since you’ve ridden?” he asked, moving in closer to her so their knees touched.
“Oh, a long time,” she said, after thinking about his question. “It has to be a few years now,” she added. “But I like it. Today, it’s fun. Not fishing,” she teased, “but fun all the same.”
“You’re going to love fishing, woman. I bet I won’t be able to drag you away from it.”
She laughed at that and tossed her red hair off her face to give him a better view of her lovely face.
“You are insane.”
“Maybe, for you,” he grumbled and smacked her horse on the ass.
The mare neighed and took off, Sonya in perfect control.
“Race you to that hill,” she called, settling over the neck of her horse like a jockey.
“Shit,” he muttered and took off after her. The thunder of their horses’ hooves beat a path to the hill she’d indicated and he watched her fly over a small brook, landing sweetly on the opposite side and beating him by a second to the spot. He reined in next to her, blindsided by the pretty grin she shot him. Still, he managed to grumble, “You cheat.”
“Not a chance, cowboy,” she said and leaned over to tug his shirt so she could kiss him.
