DoubleTeamHer

by Titania Ladley

  Ned grumbled and swore under his breath. “Leah. That’s enough, goddamn it. What Frank does and who he sees is none of our business.”

  “You bitch.” Giovanna, that spitfire, did let Leah have it. She hurled herself against Leah’s chest, scratching at her face and kicking her shins. “You fucking bitch.”

  Leah kneed Gio in the belly and shoved her away.

  Gio held her stomach and bent over, groaning.

  Jazmine flinched and shuffled back until she crashed into Gio’s car. “Oh my gawd.”

  Leah’s eyes gleamed with the satisfaction of a good fight and the leverage of authority she had over Giovanna. “Skank. You touch me again and I’ll—”

  Gio growled and started for Leah again but I hooked my arm around Gio’s waist, caught her just in time and dragged her backward. “Gio, stop it. Jesus. Do you want to get yourself arrested? You just assaulted an officer.”

  “Arrested?” Gio slapped at my arms and fought her way out of my hold. Her voice dripped with loathing and her upper lip curled in a snarl. “You mean like these two did to you at your apartment this morning? That kind of false ‘illegal’ arrest?”

  Leah sniffed and turned her animosity on me. She tidied her clothing, checked the placement of her weapon and smoothed her hair. “It’s okay, Frankie. I think I got my point across. Just get them out of here before I change my mind. We don’t have time for this petty shit.”

  Jazmine and Gio were both panting now, their hands fisted. I could see Jazmine’s motor starting to rev. She’d always been that way, slow to anger, but once her fuse was lit, look out.

  “We have an investigation to complete.” Leah crossed her arms and scowled at Jazmine. “Unlike some people, I actually work a real job to pay my bills.”

  Ah, there you go, Leah. Get that last jab in, stir some more “petty shit” up.

  Ned sighed, snatched Leah’s hand and led her away. Over his shoulder he mouthed, “Sorry” to me.

  “That fucking cunt.” Gio kicked the tire of her car. She was so striking in the throes of temper and the form-fitting suit.

  “What a bitch.” Jazmine’s nostrils flared. Her bright eyes practically burned holes in the back of Leah’s head. But god did she ever look gorgeous standing there in all that pink with her long blonde hair framing her face and falling in a cascade over her luscious tits.

  I cleared my dry throat and swallowed. “Uh, sorry about that.”

  Shit, am I ever relieved this part of my day is over.

  “Sorry? You’re sorry?” Jazmine shoved away from the car and wagged her finger in my face. I caught the sweet fragrance of her perfume and the alluring scent of sex and pussy. “For what? For choosing them over us and then standing by and watching her gloat about it?”

  I blinked. “Jesus, will you just listen to me? I didn’t choose—”

  “Shove it up your ass, you liar.” Gio ushered Jazmine toward the car and jerked open the passenger door. “Come on, sweetheart, get in. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Jazmine climbed in and put on her seat belt with jerky motions. She stared straight ahead, appearing as if she didn’t give a damn about me. “Oh believe me, Giovanna, I’m already gone.”

  Gio pushed the door shut and rounded the front of the car, her venomous gaze never leaving mine. She yanked open her door and glowered at me over the roof. “Adios, handsome. Forever. I’m moving my stuff out of your apartment and that’s it. We’re done. Don’t call, don’t come by, don’t show your cheating ass to us ever again.”

  “Dammit. If you’d just give me time to—”

  Gio slammed the door and started the engine.

  I leaned down, peered through the tinted glass and rapped on the window. “Jaz. Jazmine. Open this fucking window. Now. You’ve got to listen to me and let me explain. You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t choose them over—”

  Gio took off in a squall, barely missing running over my toes. The two hot women I’d had in my bed in the early hours of this very morning sped north toward the causeway.

  My stomach tightened, my gut swirled with regret. I shoved my fingers through my hair, the mid-morning Florida sun beating down on my skin. Sweat trailed down my back. “Son of a bitch, what just happened?”

  My cell rang. I prayed it was Jaz or Gio. But it wasn’t. I let it go to voicemail and tried to call them both. Neither answered.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” I whirled around. Puss ’N Tush, the place where I’d spent some amazing nights of kinky sex with the two women who’d just sailed over the horizon, was nothing but black ash and charred remains.

  Charred remains, just like my fucking life.

  I clamped my eyes shut and rubbed at my perspiring brow. When the last support beam crashed to the ground, a finger poked my shoulder.

  “What—” I blurted and turned. My voice was edged by annoyance but then it quickly dissipated to stunned silence when I took in the source of my aggravation. My gaze drifted down and latched on to the sexiest “sit-and-spin” petite woman I’d ever had in my bed. My mouth wetted. I let my perusal sink lower to the V formed by orange nylon shorts, the type Hooters chicks wore, the type that revealed every curve and line of the pussy lips.

  My gaze scanned the perfect body I remembered so well, with breasts just big enough to fill a man’s hands.

  Holy fuck-me heaven.

  With just one look I knew I had to have her again.

  She’d always been a pure, raw challenge any man would die for.

  Pure and sweet as an angel, rough and raw as a biker’s chick you could ride hard and fast and put up wet while still horny.

  Oh yeah. Dixie. My old girlfriend—the one I’d dumped for Jazmine.

  “Hi.” She smiled up at me and my knees trembled at the row of sparkling-white teeth circled by lips the very shade of the shorts. Adorable dimples nestled in cheeks made for pinching and cradling in a man’s hands when he kissed her with reckless abandon.

  The way I’d kissed her back then.

  “Hi.” I gulped.

  She thrust out a hand and said in that honey-sweet Southern drawl that started coming back to me in a clear song. “Remember me? Dixie Maverick in the flesh.”

  No kidding. All kinds of delicious flesh.

  Her small, warm hand squeezed mine. Heat raced up my arm and steeped my blood. I stammered, “D-Dixie?”

  “Yes.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Well I’ll be damned. Dixie Maverick.” As if I hadn’t known until this second. Well hell, I’d been taken off guard. It caused me to revert to behaving like an awkward teen.

  She giggled girlishly and slid her hand from my sweaty one. “Right. So you didn’t remember me at first. Oh well. Doesn’t surprise me. Uh, do you always parrot gals’ words when you chat with them, Mr. Lyons?”

  Dixie combed her fingers through side-swept bangs the same length as the short thick strands that brushed her delicate jaw. God how I longed to run my fingers through that silky hair again.

  While kissing her and eating her up and covering her small frame with my tall muscular one—shit, I outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds—and plunging my dick into her tight wetness.

  My loins stirred. It didn’t take long for the temperature to rise to a medium simmer.

  No, no, no. Do not get a boner, you stupid fucker.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the cap of interesting hair. I’d never been attracted to women with short hair—she’d had an ass-length mane years ago. But I’d be damned if I wasn’t getting off on the new length along with the cinnamon color enhanced with stripes of bleach-blonde. She’d had the red back then, but the light bands were a pleasant addition. It fascinated me the way the sun glistened on the pale streaks, making them overpower the red.

  Attention-grabbing combination.

  Cock-grabbing combination.

  Mmm, all I could think of was sweet icing melted over cinnamon.

  And tangling my hands in that icing and cinnamon while her head bobbed on my cock.
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  Man, she’d been an amazing cock sucker.

  “Stop it. Calling me by my last name is just bizarre. And no, I don’t. Parrot gals’ words when I speak to them, that is. Seems you’ve got me tongue- and vision-tied. And…whoa.” My response faded when I found her bright eyes. How could I have forgotten how hypnotizing they could be?

  Jesus, since leaving Dixie and getting all tangled up in Jaz’s blue eyes, I must’ve gotten amnesia. I could swear Dixie’s irises were greener than before. Now they were the color of limes perched on the rim of a sparkling margarita glass. Neon limes that made my mouth go dry. And not a drop of makeup slathered around them.

  A natural beauty.

  She lifted tanned shoulders adorned with thin white straps. The attached tiny top barely revealed her navel and flat belly. “Whoa is what I thought last night. The cop ex-husband of the famous stripper Jazmine. The cop who’s been walking on the dangerous side, risking losing his job.” She gave me three quick blinks, sardonic yet enticing. “You see, everyone knows how you masturbated last night—outside the cage where she and some gorgeous brunette got it on. And don’t try to deny it, babe, ’cuz I know for dang sure it was you. I saw it with my own eyeballs.”

  I grunted and rubbed at my eyeballs. “Great. Now I’m ‘famous’ for being a jack-off.”

  “You say you want me to jack you off?” Golden brows arched. She licked her lips.

  “What? No, I said I’m a jack—”

  She took a quick peep over her shoulder and stepped closer. Her faint, musky fragrance came rushing back to me. It filled the small space between us. I barely had time to inhale the scent before she stood on tiptoe and pressed a finger to my mouth. Her finger was small and warm. I tamped down the impulse to suck it between my teeth the way I used to. “Shh. I know what you said. But do you know what I’m saying?”

  “Honey,” I said, fighting off the boner that persisted like a fever, “I pray I do.”

  She removed her hand but didn’t step away. Her sexy eyes melted my insides the way the fire had to have melted the iron of that cage.

  “I want to stroke your cock and taste it again. Pull it in my mouth, past my lips to the back of my throat. It’s been too long. Way too long.”

  I swallowed a dry gulp. “You… You what?”

  The tinkle of her laughter overrode the din of firefighter and spectator chatter. It twined with the distant crash of waves and the squawk of seagulls. “Don’t be coy, Frank. You know what I’m saying. I’ve had a renewed craving for it ever since I saw you last night, your nice bare ass—the one I used to rake my nails over—your handsome face contorted in ecstasy and your cum shooting onto Jazmine’s back… Oh wow, just thinking about it now is making me wet.”

  “Son of a bitch.” My dick ached like hell. I thrust a hand through my hair and rubbed at the back of my neck. “This cannot be happening.”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  “It’s been a long time, Dix.”

  “So?” Her expression darkened. Or maybe a cloud moved in from offshore?

  I couldn’t hold back the long sigh. “I hurt you. I don’t want to do that again.”

  “What I saw last night made all the pain of your rejection fade away. The good times and the amazing sex came flooding back to me.” She stared me down until I watched her tongue circle her pouty lips, wetting them until they glistened in the sunlight.

  “Yes. It uh, was good times, and definitely some great sex.”

  “It seems like it was just yesterday, doesn’t it? I can remember the feel of you inside me so well. You want that again, Frankie? I could give it to you.” She shot me a long-lidded, steamy expression. “For a price.”

  I coughed and suppressed the urge to rearrange my cock inside my pants. “A ‘price’? You’re—” A thought occurred to me. An ominous thought that had me backing away. One that sent a stab of surprising jealousy ripping through my chest at the thought of her with someone else. Someones else. “Wait a minute. Are you…are you soliciting me?”

  “You mean as in whoring myself? Even though you’re a cop?” She folded her arms and grinned. Her teeth were straight and stunning. And fuck me if I couldn’t stop the taunting image of my dick sliding past them.

  “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

  She took my hand and dragged me down the sidewalk. “C’mon. I’ll show you what I’m ‘soliciting’ you about.”

  We left the crowd behind. Dixie’s flip-flops slapped on the sidewalk. I could hear the laughs of beachgoers across the street along with the hum of boats and jet skis. The odor of smoke became replaced by the scent of salt with each step she led me farther from the fire.

  We neared a commercial building separated from Puss ’N Tush by two empty city lots. The structure stood far enough from the fire that it hadn’t been included in the roped-off investigation area.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  She gazed up at me and wiggled her eyebrows. “To my brothel.”

  The expression of mischief packed an erotic punch I couldn’t ignore.

  Jazmine? Giovanna? Who are they?

  Hell with them. I chuckled to myself at how easily I’d let go of them and their brush-off. Instead I fixed my gaze on this hot little thing leading me to who knew where.

  “Really? A brothel?”

  She stopped in front of the building. “See?”

  Four men stood near red double doors, two on ladders, one pointing and shouting, the other holding the bottom of a sign.

  It read, “Dixie’s Dames”.

  “What the fuck?” I shook my head. “Dixie’s Dames?”

  She squealed and pressed her palms to her mouth. “Yes. Oh god, yes. Isn’t it awesome?”

  I narrowed my eyes. My jaw fell open while the men set out to secure the sign above the door. “Um…Dixie, you do know brothels are illegal in Florida, don’t you?”

  “Ha ha, it’s not a real brothel, you moron.” She slapped a hand on her hip. “It’s a new strip club and then some. Sort of like Puss ’N Tush. Well, like it was before the fire.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep. And it’s all mine.” She shot me that grin again. Her eyes sparkled the way the emeralds had in one of the rings Jazmine had bought herself during our marriage. And damn, those teeth of Dixie’s sparkled too, the way the diamonds in that same ring had.

  I interlaced my fingers and rested them on the top of my head. The laugh that rumbled from my chest sounded stupidly giddy. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Nope. C’mon. Let me show you the inside. They’re still working on it, but you’ll get the idea.” She held her hand out and I took it without hesitation.

  Shit, did I ever want to see this. Curiosity and excitement set my feet in motion. So did the softness of her palm and the way her fingers barely curved around the butt of my much bigger hand.

  She led me through the front doors. Bright construction lights dangled from beams and perched near a huge circular bar, the surface and sides still being built. Saws whirred and hammers banged. Men muttered and bustled around the bar, slid out tape measures and studied architecture plans, while other workers sat on the rim of yet another structure.

  I stroked my jaw, now covered in a five o’clock shadow—actually, five a.m. shadow plus several hours. “A mechanical bull?”

  “Mm-hm. Only naked people’ll be allowed to ride it. Yeehaw, buck-naked cowboys ’n cowgirls.” She twirled a short lock of hair around her finger while wandering the room. The men eyed her. Fuckers needed bibs. They practically drooled on their damn work shirts. She didn’t seem to care or notice. She stepped over two-by-fours and tools and dodged piles of FedEx boxes. I could only imagine what sorts of wicked things filled them.

  “That’s it? A ‘strip club and then some’ consists of just a bar and a mechanical bull for nude people?”

  She fluttered her eyelids. So adorable and sexy. “Here now, sugar. Do you really think a place named Dixie’s Dames would have anything in the ‘just�
�� category?”

  “Guess not.” I added a shrug. What else could I do or say when a charming dame had just put me in my place?

  “Come with me, handsome, and we’ll discuss those, uh…categories in a bit more detail.”

  She held out her hand yet again. Had she always enjoyed handholding this much in the past?

  I wrapped my fingers around hers, fascinated by the softness of her skin and the delicateness of her touch. She led me over to a long partition. It divided the main bar area from a more intimate space. Due to the haphazard construction made from plywood and angled two-by-fours it appeared to be a temporary marker for a future wall.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Remember when I said I wanted to stroke your cock and taste it, and that I’ve had a renewed craving for it ever since I saw you last night?”

  I cleared my throat but came to the conclusion it was my ears that needed to be cleared. “What?”

  “You heard me, Frank.”

  Yes, I’d heard her all right, but I couldn’t believe her words. I’d assumed our “soliciting” conversation had turned out to be nothing but a spar between us. But now I wasn’t certain. Hell, maybe it was my brain that needed clearing. Or my cock.

  “Okay, yes, I heard you. But—”

  She pulled me toward her, worked her way into my arms and guided me around so my back hit the wall opposite the partition. The space exuded intimacy yet the workers’ activities continued in the room. All those men were just feet away, joking, chuckling, electrical tools whirring and hammers drumming.

  She yanked my shirt up and circled her tongue around my nipple. A flutter of fingers unfastened my jeans and slid down into my boxers.

  Her hand closed around my half-erect cock.

  I hissed. “Jesus.”

  She looked up at me. Her gaze held mine. The wicked gleam stirred my blood almost as much as her hand did. “Mmm, I bet you’re going to taste so yummy.”

  With each up-and-down motion of her palm along the length of my dick, it seemed she did the same to my throat simply by her words. I couldn’t breathe, could barely talk. And I could swear my damn balls were going to explode at any minute.