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Authors: Bijou Hunter

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BOOK: High Voltage
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8

~ Minka ~

Morning-after Migraines

O
ur night of passion over, I ditch Dino around two
in the morning. He ends up sleeping in my room while I take his bed. The next
morning, we switch places to get dressed. I do my best not to show how sore I
am both inside and out. The guy fucked me raw, but I’m more worried about how
badly I wanted to stay wrapped against him all night.

We miss the hotel breakfast, forcing us to find
something to eat nearby. The hotel parking lot is nearly empty at ten in the
morning when we finally emerge to find food. Dino stretches next to me. With
his eyes hidden behind mirrored glasses, I don’t know if he’s paying attention
or off in post-coital dreamland. What I do know is I feel someone watching me
besides the Italian Stallion.

Glancing around, I reach for my gun hidden under my
jacket. “Today might get messy.”

Dino is grinning at me, completely oblivious to the
sinking feeling I have about standing in the open. He’s still smiling when a
spray of bullets hits the wall near us. Already on the move, I look for cover.
Dino ignores my competence and grabs me around the waist. He’s playing hero,
making me the idiot damsel in distress.

As Dino pulls me behind the bushes, I fire in the
direction of the gunshots.

“Get off me,” I tell him.

“There’re two of them.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw them prowling around before they started
shooting.”

“And you didn’t think to say something?”

“I assumed you saw them too, and that’s why you
were pretending to be frigid. Wasn’t your bitchiness a signal?”

Glaring at him, I wiggle free from his body shield
and crawl to where I can get a shot.

“They’re on the move,” I say, firing at the scrambling
feet.

One of them lets out a loud grunt, and I know my
shots made contact. Dino pulls me to my feet before we chase after them around
the building. Stopping at the corner of the hotel, he dramatically yanks off
his glasses.

“Stay behind me,” Dino says, pushing me backwards.

His attempt to play hero knocks me off balance, and
I fall on my ass. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m taking a bullet to save your pretty face. I’d
say that was plenty helpful, Apples.”

Returning to my feet, I ask, “What if they come up
behind us?”

Dino glances back at me and looks genuinely
concerned for my safety.

“Just go,” I say, nudging him. “My shoes are
getting muddy, and those guys still aren’t dead.”

“Chicks always have the best priorities.”

“I’ll take the lead,” I threaten.

Dino finally moves. His steps are smooth and
practiced like a professional dancer doing an old routine. I follow him while
keeping my eyes peeled in case the shooters sneak up behind us.

“They’re at the back of the hotel,” Dino says.

“How do you know?”

“I see them in that car’s reflection.”

Studying where Dino’s pointing, I admire his
ability to use the cleanest car in Tennessee as a mirror.

“Want me to go around the other side so we can hit
them from both directions?”

Dino glances back and frowns again. His concern for
me would be more endearing if I actually were a damsel in distress rather than
an experienced operator.

“I’m going,” I say, moving past him.

His arm reaches out to stop me from advancing, and
I’m ready to argue. A shotgun blast startles us instead.

“Maybe they’re so scared of us they’ve decided to
kill themselves,” I suggest, hearing a second shotgun blast.

Dino’s dark eyes study me. “Stay behind me.”

“No,” I growl and take off around the corner.

Dino is right behind me as we run towards the back
of the hotel. We turn the corner at nearly the same moment, more interested in
being in charge than staying alive.

Jerking to a stop, I stare at the faceless man on
the ground in front of me. The shotgun blast tore off most of his flesh,
leaving only a meaty skull.

A second faceless corpse rests not far from where
Hayes lights a cigar.

“We had that, Whopper Boy,” Dino mutters.

Puffing on the cigar, Hayes grunts. “I think the
words you fucks are looking for are ‘thank you.’ They teach you those words back
on the Jersey Shore?”

I roll my eyes at their instant dick measuring
contest. “Thank you, Mister Hayes.”

“Call me Angus, for fuck’s sake.”

“No, I’d rather not.”

Dino snorts. “You’re a real ladies man.”

“What the fuck are you going on about now?” Hayes
growls.

“Good thing you had that shotgun. You don’t need
any skill to aim with that beast.”

“Dead is dead, Snookie.”

Returning my gun to the holster, I interrupt the
men’s flirty banter. “How did you get here so fast?”

“I have breakfast down the fucking street at the
Waffle House. One of my people called to say two armed fuckers were hanging out
around your fucking hotel.”

Squatting down to check the second guy’s pockets, I
find a billfold and cell.

“This guy’s name is Dick Richey,” I announce.
“Let’s see who his last call was from.”

Checking his phone’s history, I press the last
incoming call. The phone rings twice before I get a nondescript voicemail.
Returning to the history, I choose Dick’s last outgoing call. This time, the
receptionist at the sheriff’s office answers.

“Can I speak to Sheriff Black?” I ask, sporting a Minnesota accent. “Tell him Dick Richey is calling.”

While on hold, I check the second guy’s pockets. He
was smart enough not to bring all of his shit with him.

“Sheriff Black is in a meeting,” the receptionist
says.

“Okay then. I’ll leave a message. See, about that
job the sheriff gave Dick, can you tell him that it didn’t go as planned. Dick
will call him later. Okay?”

“Okay,” the woman mutters, clearly wanting to laugh
at my accent.

I hang up and hand the phone to Dino. “Now he knows
we know,” I say to Hayes.

“That accent was horrible,” the giant asshole says.

“No worse than you sound every day,” I mutter, not
in the mood to deal with shit from either man. “Now, what do we do about the
dead weight here?”

“I got people coming to clean it up.”

“Good for you, slugger,” Dino says, challenging
Hayes again.

“I just saved your fucking asses.”

“No, you shortened these fuckers’ lives by like
three minutes. I won’t give you an award for shooting your wad early.”

Hayes opens his mouth, and I sense he’s about to
get very loud. Before I get a migraine, I raise my hand and smile.

“Thank you for the help, Mister Hayes. Can I ask
you a question?”

“Why ask him?” Dino mutters. “Ask me. I know shit.”

“You don’t know dick, fuckwit.”

The men growl at each other again, and I’m never
happier to be a chick. I couldn’t deal with using my crotch as a brain like
these two.

“Doesn’t this kill attempt feel like an amateur
move?” I ask loudly.

While never looking away from his nemesis, Dino
shrugs. “Sure, but it’s fucking Hicktown. What do you expect from rednecks?”

Hayes wants to say something. He’s a guy with no
patience for turning the other cheek. I understand his ego’s need to react, but
fuck it. I’m getting bored of their dick measuring contest.

Snapping in front of the big guy’s face, I ask,
“We’ve been in town less than twenty-four hours, and Black calls in a hit team.
What if we were cops?”

Hayes glances at the passing traffic on the nearby
road. “His backers might be connected to the state. He’d know if the attorney
general sent investigators to sniff around his area.”

“Bullshit. If we were DEA or some other federal
agency, no way would he know so quickly. Would you?”

Hayes knows Black can’t be better than him and instantly
shakes his head. I glance down at the dead men.

“What if the guys in Memphis sent us? Or we worked
for a cartel outfit? We could be anyone, but they took the chance of killing us
without knowing what kind of hell they’d bring down on their organization.”

Wearing a grumpy frown, Hayes puffs at his cigar.
“A year ago, some drunk fuck shot an off-duty ATF guy in Louisiana. The FBI and
state guys are
still
tearing up the town. The feds are like herpes. Once
you get them, you ain’t getting rid of them.”

“Exactly. This wasn’t the move of a professional
with ice in his veins. Black fucked up in a way amateurs fuck up. I think we
can safely say he isn’t working with a powerful backer. Cooper shouldn’t have
much problem sending his people in here to take back operations.”

“You’re so sexy when you talk like that,” Dino
says, sidling up next to me. “I think we should stick around this shithole
awhile longer.”

“Why?” I frown, pushing him away from me.

“Shithole?” Hayes growls.

Their tempers instantly stink up the place again.
Dino wraps an arm possessively around my shoulders, and I give up on keeping
his hands off of me.

“Amateurs or not, these are still cops,” Dino says,
tightening his hold on me. “Johansson and his crew can’t exactly ride into town
and kill them all without getting the attention of the state guys.”

“Hair gel has a point,” Hayes mutters.

“This is my natural style, beef boy.”

“Will you two shut the fuck up already?” I nearly
yell. “You’re making my period kick in early. Trust me, once that happens, all
bets are off on which one of you lives.”

“Don’t worry, Apples. You’re sexy enough for me to
ignore a little blood.”

Shoving him away from me, I storm off towards the
front of the hotel. I know Dino will growl at Hayes. Cussing will ring out.
Threats exchanged. I don’t give a shit, though. Even if they pee in a circle to
claim territory, I’m uninterested.

Someone took a shot at me. I’d really like to shoot
back, but I’m hamstrung by laws and rules and other normally pointless shit.

Dialing Rafael, I enter the hotel to find the staff
indifferent to the mess outside. If the police are coming, I don’t hear sirens.
Hayes runs a tight ship in White Horse, and a shootout at the local Hampton Inn
isn’t news.

I’m in the elevator by the time he answers, but I
don’t explain the situation until in my room.

“I agree we’re likely dealing with amateurs,” he
says, “but I agree with Dino that Cooper killing cops remains a problem.”

“Cooper killing them is a problem but not us,
right?”

“I wouldn’t send you to play recon on a nothing
job, Minka. We need to turn Common Bend upside down and shake out all of the
loose ends.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what Memphis wants.”

Sighing, I flop into the chair. “I hate working for
outfits. They have unrealistic expectations.”

“True but I did work for Memphis for a long time.
I’ll run interference so you don’t get stuck in their web. Can you work with
Dino to dismantle Black’s organization?”

“How clean does Johansson want Common Bend?”

“Black has likely put new people in charge of the
main parts of the town’s businesses.”

Kicking off my boots, I wish I had something to eat
in the room. “The pharmaceutical side shouldn’t be difficult to clean. I don’t
get the sense Black knows anything about safe production. If his new people
don’t either, they’d likely blow themselves up. We can just speed that along.”

“Let me know if you need anything. I can send
supplies or people. I’m also only a few hours away if you need the big guns.”

“Listen to you brag,” I say, laughing. “Do you
think Troy will fly in and Dino can return to Houston?”

“Doubtful on the latter, but I’m sure Troy would help out.”

Imagining Dino and Troy growling at each other, I
decide I can’t handle more testosterone.

“No, let Troy play cuddles with his woman. Dino
should provide a decent human shield.”

Rafael remains quiet for a minute, and I feel him
thinking. Rolling my eyes, I wish I could slap him through the phone.

“What?”

“Dino is sweet on you. He might make mistakes based
on those feelings.”

“Sweet? He’s a dog in heat. I’m sure that’s not a
new experience for him.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, princess,” he
says, and I hear him fighting laughter. “Call if you need anything. Otherwise,
have fun.”

9

~ Dino ~

Fly Me to the Moon

T
he corpses on the ground taunt me. Killing them would
have impressed Minka. She likes a strong man, and I
am
a strong man, but
this stupid bear-sized fucker decided to ruin shit. I ought to kick his ass for
ruining my big moment, but he’s carrying a shotgun like he knows what I’m
considering.

“Nicely done with the skirt,” he says, clenching
the cigar in his teeth.

Realizing what he means, I frown. “How did you
know? Are you stalking us?”

Hayes taps at his throat and then points at mine.
“The hickeys are a dead giveaway.”

Fixing my shirt collar, I shake out my shoulders.
“The girl knows what she wants.”

“Or she’s bored in a small town.”

“Fuck off, Mountain Man.”

“Big talk for a guy standing in someone’s piss.”

I look down and realize the dead guy relieved
himself at some point.

“I ain’t sorry to leave behind the days of cleaning
up my messes,” I say, wiping my shoes off on the guy’s chest. “Good thing I
have the help to do it for me now.”

Hayes grunts, but his focus is on approaching guys
dressed in painter gear.

“Scrub it down, boys,” Hayes says, resting the
shotgun over his shoulder and walking away. “Watch your back, Piss Feet. I
won’t always be around to do it for you.”

I want to flip him off. No, I’d rather beat the
shit out of him. Maybe shove that shotgun up his mountain-man ass.

Or I could go inside and find Minka. She’s probably
in a bad mood, and I’d like nothing more to fuck her back into a smile.

The girl at the front counter smiles at me when I
walk inside. The shooting did nothing to cramp her day. No, the folks in White
Horse shrug off such annoyances.

Minka is less blasé about the recent violence when
I join her in the room. She’s spread out on the bed, frowning at her phone.

“The gorilla is cleaning up the mess he made.”

I rest my guns on the table next to Minka’s.
Emptying out of my pockets, I find a music station on the phone and set the
channel to Dean Martin.

“I don’t like that music,” Minka announces, trying
to piss me off.

“No accounting for taste, Apples.”

I walk to the bed where she watches me warily.
She’s thinking about work when she should be thinking about us.

Reaching down, I pull her by the ankles until her
ass hangs off the bed. Minka is dead weight, bored of my attempts. So much
indifference in her smoky eyes. So little idea of how determined I can be.

I tug her to her feet and wrap an arm around her
waist. Like magic, the song
Fever
begins to play. Holding her tightly
against me, I swear this woman has infected me with something fierce and
addictive.

My hips move to the rhythm, but she remains a wet
noodle. Minka stares in my eyes, and I love not knowing what she’s thinking.
The mystery in her gaze could mean anything.
Will she hit me? Laugh at me?
Throw me on the bed and ravage me?
The not knowing makes me unbearably
hard.

“Do you use these moves a lot?” she whispers as her
hips finally dance with mine.

“Never had to before.”

“Stud,” she says mockingly.

“You really were a virgin before me.”

Smiling, Minka wraps her arms around my waist.
“Yes. Be gentle, Mister Sausage.”

“Oh, I’ll be tender,” I whisper. “Until I’m not.”

Gaze warming, Minka sizes me up. “Later, we’ll
work,” she murmurs, lifting her lips to meet mine.

Work is the last thing on my mind. I’m happy to let
Mountain Man handle the Shithead Sheriff. Let the rednecks fight the other
rednecks over who gets to control this slice of redneck paradise.

Minka leans towards the bed until I pull her back.
“I’m not done dancing,” I say, swinging her around and away from the bed.

“I thought you were horny.”

“Yes, ever since I saw you, but we’re in no hurry.”

Relaxing again, Minka moves with me. I lean down
and kiss her throat, eliciting a sexy moan from her. My fingers slide up her
shirt and pull it over her head. Once I toss it aside, my hands take hers, and
I swing her around again.

“People don’t dance enough in life.”

“I’m always saying that.”

I smile at her lie. We move around the hotel room’s
small space. Our lips meet again as Sammy Davis Jr. begins to sing. Minka
unbuttons my shirt as soon as Frank Sinatra takes over with
That’s Life
.

“Your music isn’t awful,” she whispers before licking
my chest.

“I knew I’d win you over.”

Spinning around, I free one hand from hers and
allow it to roam down her back. Minka sighs at my touch. Her indifferent
bullshit is gone now. Kissing her again, I keep her lips locked with mine
through another song. By the time Frankie Valli sings, her bra hangs from a
nearby chair.

Louis Armstrong serenades Ella Fitzgerald as Minka
shimmies out of her jeans and panties. Unbuttoning me, she slides down my
slacks and painfully small silk boxers. My freed cock stands thick and proud
for her inspection.

Giving my hot flesh a long, loving lick, Minka
gasps when I tug her back up and return to our dance.

“You’re still wearing socks,” she says, seeming
startled.

I reach down to pull them off before tossing them
on the chair next to her lacy pink panties.

“Better?” I ask.

All of her secrets fade from her eyes when Minka
smiles. Open to me, I see the excited curiosity of a woman normally never
excited or curious.

Swinging her around, I pat her ass playfully once
she’s back in my arms.

“People don’t dance naked enough.”

“Wow. That was the topic of my last blog.”

Throwing back my head, I laugh at her silly
expression that looks so wrong on such an aroused face.
Wrong yet perfect
.

I dip her back and run my tongue along her breastbone
before sliding left to where a hard, ripe nipple waits for me. Minka makes a
strangled gasp when I suck the nub of flesh between my lips.

“Dino,” she murmurs in a musical voice.

The heat between her legs calls to my already
dripping cock. We need relief, but I linger at her delicious little nipples.
Every nibble arouses another moan from Minka until she can’t stop. Her heated
cries only pause when I lift her onto my hips and guide my cock into her hot
pussy.

Minka wraps her strong legs around my hips, and we
dance our way to a frenzied climax.

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