Gator Baitin' (The Grateful Undead series Book 2)

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Gator Baitin' (The Grateful Undead series Book 2) Page 8

by Susan Stec


  "I'm not wearing Disney, anything, all over my body."

  Christopher smiled at me.

  "What?" I raised one brow.

  "Nothing. Just that your outfit isn't Disney material. More like South Orange Blossom Trail signage for STD action." Christopher laughed.

  I groaned. "Great. Just what I need—lots of cleavage. Marcus will love that."

  Christopher rolled his eyes. "Your mom wants to hook you and me up with Paul playing Daddy."

  "Go on!" All of a sudden I was looking forward to wearing a hooker outfit.

  "Before you wet your thong, Marcus nipped that in the bud. He told her we needed the wolf sniffing around behind the scene. So as usual, Gibbie and Paul are gonna do recon."

  Crap! It would have been fun to suck up to Paul, giving Marcus something to think about. "Probably a good thing."

  "Your Mother must have something up her sleeve for Jake, because she just smiles at him when he complains about her sucking noises." Christopher frowned as he wiggled into a chair, legs stiff, cute little cowboy boots hanging over the edge.

  He took out a pack of Virginia Slims, flicked his bright red Bic in front of a cigarette, and took a nice long drag.

  I laughed. A Mickey Mouse billboard puffing a cigarette was just too amusing.

  He took another drag. "Keep laughing. You’re gonna be the one with her tits hanging out."

  "Those things'll stunt your growth, ya know." I got up giggling.

  "Fuck you," he said, taking another drag.

  I smiled and headed for my hooker wardrobe.

  I walked into my bedroom and stopped dead. Marcus stood in my bathroom in front of the mirror, giving me a full view of both front and back of him. He had on leather chaps—not the whip-and-chain-her-to-the-bedpost kind of chaps, but the horse-whisperer kind of chaps. They were old, worn, brown leather covering a faded pair of illegally tight jeans. His shirt was crisp, white, and buttoned close to his neck. Arms raised, ass cocked, cowboy boots peeking out from the hem of his jeans, he brushed his long black hair.

  I was so screwed. I wiped the drool from my chin while he wrapped a piece of leather around his hair at the nape of his neck, his crystal blue eyes searching for mine in the mirror.

  Damnit, I wanted him. Give me a man who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty and I was hooked. Oh, he so much looked the part right now.

  He tossed me a reflected smile, and then turned around. "Your clothes are on the bed, darling, and I can't wait to see you in them."

  I turned to the bed, trying to get nasty, ride-um-cowboy sex out of my mind, and the first thing I saw was bright red stilettos.

  "How in the hell do I chase a bull wearing those?" I pointed to the shoes.

  "Put them on," Marcus said in guttural voice, cranking my ride-um-cowboy fantasy up a notch.

  I grinned at him, walked over to the bed, and tried to whip my nether parts back into order. Sucking in a breath I didn't need, I picked up the jeans and held them in front of me. "These?" I asked in a teasing tone.

  "How about you put this on first," he said, pulling a red thong out of his pocket.

  "And where did you get that?" I sauntered up to him, jerking the thong out of his hand. It looked familiar.

  "Put it on, then let's see if the shoes fit, shall we?" His eyes glittered like sun dancing on a lake.

  I stood ramrod still, my eyes locked on his.

  "I want to taste you before we go, preferably with those panties and shoes on." Marcus grazed my bare leg, reaching for the shoes. Then stood and dangled them in front of me.

  "Whoa, cowboy, we agreed on a blood exchange, not me fulfilling your fantasies." Who the hell was I kidding? It was my fantasy we'd be playing out.

  "Indulge me just this once, Susan," he said softly.

  I couldn't breathe—not that I needed to, but still.

  Looking into his eyes, I let the bathrobe slide from my shoulders and stood naked before him.

  His jaw tightened.

  I slowly stepped into the thong, ran it up my legs and over my hips. I took a shoe from him, grabbing his belt as I slid it on, then plucked the other one out of his hand, slipped it on, yanked him closer, and held out my wrist in defiance. I could play this game. Maybe.

  Lifting my wrist, he put it to his lips.

  Here he was, all sexy in his chaps, and it would be a damn shame to waste it, right? I had my eyes on his neck. I moaned.

  His lips parted. Fangs slid from his gums and into my skin.

  Instant rush!

  He began to suck and I was in another place, a warm and wet place. I tiptoed closer and unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it away from his neck. I leaned in to bite him. He held me back, softly pushing my shoulder with his free hand.

  I took his hand off my shoulder and slid it into my thong. "You said you wanted to taste me," I whispered with a throaty voice.

  He pulled his teeth from my arm, licking his lips in a way that just about put me over the edge. "That I did, darling, and I thank you." He took his hand out of my thong and brought his fingers to his lips.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip those chaps from his wicked little ass and jump on. Daaamnit!

  Marcus turned me toward the bed—jump started my heart—and then opened his mouth. "You should get ready, love." He reached for the box of chocolates on the dresser by the bed and handed them to me with a naughty grin. "Here you go, precious. These'll tide you over," he said then turned on his goddamn cowboy boots, frigging chap-clad ass swaying as he walked out the door.

  I glared at my outfit lying on the bed—black spandex jeans, push up bra and a low-cut, elastic neckline, bright-red, gauze blouse. "Aren't bulls attracted to red?" I mumbled, jerking the bra off the bed.

  Thirty minutes later we were on our way to the rodeo. From the backseat of my Jeep, Christopher asked, "What do you guys think about this Eval guy?"

  I tugged at my tight jeans and pulled the red gauze blouse up to cover my boobs for the umpteenth time. It promptly slid off my shoulders for the umpteenth time. I glared at Marcus. "I can't fight a vamp-bull in these clothes."

  Marcus cleared his throat, eyes dancing over my chest, and changed the subject. "I received a call from the lab. Pastor Julie was indeed, in that motel room and I feel it wise to inform Dorius. He will be very grateful for the information, Christopher."

  "The hell you say," Christopher sneered. "I'm not giving it up to Dorius before I figure this out. He can get his own damn information."

  I turned in the passenger seat, tugging at my frigging blouse again. "Christopher if Dorius is working this, how do you expect to follow her without him finding out?"

  Christopher dug his hand under his baseball cap, scratched his head, a big grin on his cute little face. "We still have a gator to find, nothing wrong with it leading us to the church, or her. We just follow the gator, right? I mean that sucker could be anywhere. The church is on a lake, right? So maybe we should check it out after we get this vamp-bull thing taken care of. Attending another church service wouldn't hurt any of us."

  Marcus turned to me with firm tight lips. Christopher will not be the one summoning a demon, Susan. We are not going anywhere near that church.

  Now let me just say, after that little episode in the bedroom I didn't feel at all obedient. I reached in my purse and pulled out a Ziploc baggie. Opening it, I grabbed a piece of chocolate, watching his snarl turn into a smile. I counted to five, smiled back and handed it to him. "Here sweetie, suck on this. You're gonna need it." I shot him a rebellious look.

  He popped the candy in his mouth and lasciviously started sucking. We will not be getting involved, dear.

  You don't have to, dear, I pushed back. Thinking about Marcus sitting in church, arms flailing, hands waving, tickled me silly. He wouldn't let me go alone, and by God I was going.

  The rest if the ride was uneventful. An hour later, I was elbowing my way through redneck men with missing teeth, every one of them leering at my chest. Although, having Marcus growl eve
ry time one of them made it very apparent they'd caught a peek of my red, lacy, push up bra did wonders for my ego. "Do you see Mom or Jake anywhere?"

  "No, and they're about to begin the bull riding segment," Christopher answered. "I wonder if we should go check out the bull pens."

  Before I could reply, JoAnn's voice vibrated my earbob. Susan, before you get all controlling, Dorius gave mom explicit directions, so sit tight and be ready for your instructions.

  I hammered the button on my transmitter. "JoAnn, tell me Mom isn't going to ride the damn bull."

  Speakers around the ring reverberated as the announcer welcomed us. "Good evening ladies and cowboys. The event you've all been waiting for is about to begin. We have a new entrant tonight, a cowboy from Puerto Rico. Jake Lopez will be riding Diablo. A fearsome start for a new…"

  "Holy smoke! Did he say Jake Lopez? No freaking way." I scurried to the front of the ring and hung over the rail, eyes glued to the gate where all the attention was.

  Okay Dorius just said you guys are to go stand outside the big gate by the woods. As a last resort, Jake's going to ride it out that gate, so all of you can kill it, but only if what they have planned doesn't work, JoAnn ordered.

  "What is Dorius thinking?" I shrieked. "Are you guys hearing this?"

  "Let's just wait a few minutes to see how this plays out. The gate in question is right over there." Marcus pointed at the gate. "If Jake rides in that direction we can head over and open it. There's nothing back there but empty animal trailers and woods. But I don't think it will come to that, my love."

  I groaned, turning to the ring.

  Several men stood at the foot of the corral, two on top, one of them Jake. He was dressed in a sky blue western shirt, white hat, white gloves, white boots, and blue pants to match his shirt. Rhinestones glittered under the spotlight as Jake swung a leg over the bull, not looking at all like the Jake I knew. He had a furious scowl on his face as he secured himself on the animal's back, tucking a hand under the ropes.

  The bull's eyes were gleaming red.

  Mom, dressed in a matching outfit and white cowboy boots, ran out whooping and hollering. She carried a large red flag, hanging from a long pole. I noticed the Mac-daddy Buck knife strapped to her leg.

  Marcus leaned over me for a better view.

  Christopher climbed on the guardrail. "Oh, hell yeah! Your mother's spotting him. This is gonna be so damn good. And will you look at Jake? He's really getting into it."

  "Susan, does your mother have experience in spotting, and why does she have a knife strapped to her leg? Surely, she doesn't think she can kill that animal in front of thousands of spectators!" Marcus had left his happy place.

  "Well your damn brother seems to think she can," I screamed. This was going to be a fiasco.

  "Is the rider ready? Let's hear that whistle!" the announcer yelled.

  The crowd went wild.

  Someone blew a whistle and the gate sprang open. Mom started dancing in front of the bull, waving the flag. Jake was hooting and yelling, one hand flying in the air, the other roped to the bull's back.

  I climbed the gate, ready for anything. Marcus grabbed my shirt.

  The crowd went crazy.

  The bull kicked, bucked, shook its head and bared its teeth. The arena dissolved into hushed whispers when the animal headed straight for Mom.

  "Okay, time to intervene! I'm going in!" I hung one foot over the fence, Marcus' hand snarled in my gauze blouse.

  The bull ran up to Mom and she flagged him by as Jake yelled, loud and clear, "Go suck your teeth, Chick. I got it."

  The crowd roared with laughter.

  Mom danced in front of the bull again, eyes angry, as she yelled back, "You ain't got shit."

  Head down and snorting it ran for Mom again. She dodged it, jogging alongside the animal and poking it with the flag. She looked like an itty-bitty animated toy compared to the girth of the bull.

  It snorted, kicked up some dirt, and ran in circles trying to catch her.

  The announcer screamed encouragement, "It looks like Jake has the bull by the horns, and he's clearly a contender that deserves our attention! Look at the workout Diablo is giving him! Way to ride, cowboy! Let's hear it for the Lopez team!"

  The crowd was on their feet with loud shouts, arms pumping and feet stomping.

  Mom efficiently dodged attacks, feigning left when the bull shot right. She threw the flag at the angry animal, clearly playing the crowd. She leapt at the bull, grabbed Jake's leg, and flung herself on the animal's back, arms and legs wrapped around Jake's stomach. Jake's flailing arm tried to pull her off of his back.

  The announcer switched to obscenities. "What the hell! Only one rider on the goddamn bull! Jesus, someone do something before somebody gets hurt! I don't know how they ride in Puerto Rico, buddy, but in the fuckin’ U S of A we do not double up!"

  The stadium went ape-shit.

  I scrambled to get away from Marcus' grasp. He hung on tight. I swatted at his hand. He mumbled obscene remarks.

  Susan, get your butt over to the gate before you ruin everything! JoAnn screeched, making my eardrum vibrate. I wanted to tear the damn earpiece out and chuck it.

  Mommy dearest, Nanna is doing just what Dorius asked. She's creating a diversion. Someone will surely shoot the animal, and then Nanna can finish it. Get over to the fence, Jeni instructed, in a calm voice. If she were in front of me, I'd be wringing her neck.

  "Get that goddamn woman off that friggin' animal right now!" the announcer yelled.

  "My sentiments exactly! What the hell are all of you thinking?" I yelled at everyone within hearing distance.

  Marcus yanked my shirt, revealing way too much cleavage. Settle down, Susabella. What Dorius has in mind is brilliant.

  "Brilliant, my ass. Let go of me, damnit." I squirmed, biting at his arm.

  "Not the time for this, sweetie," he said with amusement as he held tight.

  Mom whooped and hollered. Jake's frustration was evident as he tried to pull her off his back. Mom was efficiently riding both of them.

  Speakers reverberated a squeal over the screams of the spectators then the announcer yelled, "I want men in the arena, now! Get that damn woman off that bull!"

  Marcus and I were drawing a crowd of our own. Several men stood around us, cheering Marcus on.

  "Damn, buddy, you got you one hot-headed little redhead!" a man in a filthy wife-beater said.

  Several hooted, "Giver hell, cowboy!"

  "Bet that's one bitch don't lay under ya lookin' dead!—she a screamer?"

  A bare chested guy with a Woody Harrelson grin whistled through his front teeth, ran a hand down his zipper. "Come on, baby, show me what ya got."

  Marcus warned, "If you don't stop making a scene, I'm going to drag your ass to the car."

  "Daddy, don't hit Mommy! Please Daddy, don't hit her again!" Christopher cried, kicking Marcus in the shins and drawing robust laughter from the men.

  Marcus leered at him.

  "Mommy's okay, sweetie," I shouted, elbowing Marcus in the stomach, getting another round of encouragement from the cowboys.

  "I want that woman off that bull!" the announcer yelled, again.

  Gates burst open all over the place. Men came from everywhere, running into the ring.

  Jake and Mom looked like they were arguing as she pointed to the gate we were supposed to be opening.

  A man on a horse rode into the ring and it looked like he was trying to herd the bull into an open pen with several men standing in front of it, cheering him on.

  "Will you let me go, for Christ's sake?" I screamed, ducked, and left him with an empty shirt, my snappy red bra and stilettos a beacon. I hit the dirt, rolled to my feet and ran at breakneck speed for the bull. Loud cheers followed me.

  You guys are supposed to go outside the big gate by the parking area. Jake's going to ride it out there if one of the men doesn't shoot it. Susan, get out of that ring! JoAnn yelled with mind boggling clarity.


  "JoAnn, shut the hell up!"

  Uh-uuum, you are in sooo much trouble.

  I ignored her and ran in front of the bull. It stopped dead. Jake and Mom fell forward onto its head and quickly scrambled back into position.

  It snorted, kicked at the dirt, head down, horns pointing right at me. Now let me just say I've never been up close and personal with a bull. The sucker was huge. It was bigger than my Jeep. I immediately gained an enormous amount of respect for the animal. I froze up, about wet my pants, and wondered which way I should run.

  In my peripheral vision, I spotted a large black wolf leaping over the gate.

  The bull went wild, head down, rear end twirling to the left and head to the right as it bucked in circles. Paul, in wolf form, barked, snorted, and ran around it, calculating eyes on me and the bull.

  Gun shots sprinkled the air. Paul dodged left and right, heading for me.

  Officials screamed, whistles blew, bells dinged, and the bull kept bucking.

  The wolf leapt, knocking me on my ass. I rolled to get up, but he snatched me by the seat of my pants and I felt a cold nose and sharp teeth on my spine. Paul proceeded to drag me to the gate, dodging bullets.

  I saw Marcus and Christopher running for the gate as I tried to grab Paul by the scruff of his furry neck. He snarled and shook his head, sending me under him. I scrambled to get loose. He growled deep in his throat, bit harder, and was off and running again.

  Mom howled like a drunken cowboy, slamming her hand on Jake's back. The bull abruptly turned, heading for me, Paul, and the gate. It swung open in time for Paul to drag me through, the bull at our heels.

  Several shots rang out, and the animal ran another twenty yards and hit the ground at my feet. Immortal speed is a wonderful thing. Mom ripped the animal's heart from its chest and tossed it toward Paul, leaving a shredded chest cavity much like a wild wolf would make and the rodeo guys were still running over.

  Paul let go of my jeans, picked up the bloody heart in his maw and padded off toward the woods. I noticed Gibbie fluttering by one of the trailers. He buzzed after Paul.

  "Chi-ick," Jake whelped. "Was it really necessary to get all vampy-Attila-the-Hun on us?"

  Mom took the knife out from between her teeth. "I am what I am."

 

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