See Dick Run (3 page)

“I think I hate you.” Moira rose to her haunches and glanced around her. “But right now I hate the bastard that shot at me more.”

“Good, maybe now you’ll act like you have a little sense.” Kever reached for his cell phone hooked to his belt. He dialed his partner. “Bubba, get the evidence crew together and have everybody out here to Moira’s place on Gator Bait Road.” Kever waited, listening to his partner. “No, but a sniper just took some shots at us and I want to know where the asshole was perched.”

Chapter Three

Moira scrubbed her face with her hand. The CSI crews were long gone. They trampled her yard and collected evidence. The sniper’s post had been found amongst a grove of pines eleven hundred feet away. She snorted. You’d think if he was that close the SOB would have hit something important. Maybe he had; she still hadn’t seen Crusher or Turkey and it was going on a few days now.

She turned on her faucet and rinsed out her coffee mug. Just wait until she got her hands on the ass that dared to shoot at her. Thanks to that incident, Kever grilled her about clients and anyone who might have a grudge against her, making her feel more like a suspect instead of the victim. He’d even assigned some uniform cop to watch her. Moira moved away from the window and walked to her dining room turned office.

Papers were strewn over her table and multicolor sticky notes surrounded her laptop keyboard. She’d already gone over the past cases in her mind before the idea had even hit Kever. At least his partner had better sense. Bubba knew you always got more with honey than vinegar. A weary sigh escaped her as she sat at the table and pulled the laptop closer. Moira leaned back in her seat. One of these days she would have to get a proper desk chair. She glanced at her cell then at the clock on the wall. Violet wouldn’t be up yet but Penelope would and right then Moira desperately needed to hear a friendly voice.

She grabbed the phone and tapped the number that she’d assigned to one of her best friends. Tones chimed in her ear and a pleasant voice answered with the name of the bakery Penelope owned. Moira was put on hold and waited for Penelope to answer.

“Hello,” Penelope said, breathless.

“Hey… Am I catching you at a bad time?” Moira hesitated.

“No, I was just pulling something out of the oven. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“Why? What happened? You did it, didn’t you?” Penelope’s voice held a thread of suspicion.

“Did what?”

“The nasty with that detective.”

“I did not!” Moira screeched into the mouthpiece.

Penelope chuckled. “Maybe not, but you want to.”

Moira rubbed her temple. “This is not why I called you.”

“Okay. So what else is happening?” Penelope’s tone went from teasing to inquisitive.

“Somebody took pot shots at me.”

“As in shooting at you with a gun?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, you and Violet will be the death of me one day as I sit here in my little bakery and succumb to a heart attack because my best friends are stupid!” Penelope yelled the last part of the sentence.

Moira pulled the phone from her ear and listened at a distance as her bestie vented. The crunch of tires on her gravel driveway drew her attention away from the phone call. She rose from her seat and walked to the window, sliding the curtain back to peek out. The dark blue sedan parked close to front porch. She searched the yard. Where was that damn turkey when she needed it? Moira narrowed her eyes to try and see through the windshield. Tapping the speaker button, she set the phone down, listening to her friend chatter.

“So tell me, how is Avery?” Moira shifted papers, looking for her gun. There was a hesitation on Penelope’s side and Moira stopped. “Pens?”

“He’s fine,” Penelope continued.

The slam of a car door made Moira glance up before doubling her effort to find her Glock. No longer caring about the stacks of papers she’d carefully separated the night before. A pile hit the floor with a
thwack
. Smiling when she saw the butt of her gun, she spoke. “Ya know, Pens, I’ve only talked to Avery on the phone when I’m looking for you, but I think I like your assistant more than I like the guy you were dating. But, hey, that’s just my observation.” She flipped the safety and slid the mechanism back to pop a bullet in the chamber.

“What was that?” Penelope asked.

“What was what?” Moira questioned.

“That sound.”

“Oh, nothing. I have to go, but I’ll call you later.”

“You better.” Penelope ended the call and the static of dead air floated through the room.

Muffled steps in quick succession reached her and Moira moved through the adjacent foyer. She sprinted toward the back, careful not to make noise as she opened the French doors. She slipped through the narrow opening she’d created. The concrete exterior of her home scratched at her bare shoulders as she eased over it. Her bare feet were soundless on the wood.

The banging on her door startled her and she pressed herself closer to the house. With her finger on the trigger she stretched her neck to peer over the side of the building. No one was there. Moira stepped around the corner and scanned the porch. What the hell? She took a quick look at the car to confirm no one was there. Then she felt the muzzle of a gun at her temple.

***

Kever held his gun to Moira’s head. Surprised he’d actually caught her off guard, he stayed to her back. He glanced down, taking in Moira’s appearance. The minuscule dress she wore barely covered her ass as the breeze off the bayou blew the clothing against her body.

Kever leaned in and whispered against the shell of her ear. “You know, you should be careful how you go about your property.”

“Had I known I was going to have company I would have dressed in a more appropriate manner.” Moira turned her head. “You changed cars, Kever?”

“I thought it might be advantageous to switch up a little, you know, just in case.”

“Okay, I admit it, you surprised me.” She twisted her torso. “Seriously, angle that piece away from my head.”

“I’m debating. This is the quietest you have ever been.”

“You’re an ass.”

“But I want to be your ass.” He pulled the gun from her forehead. “Or preferably in it.”

His words stoked the fires of desire she tried hard to stay far away from. The soft feel of his shirt on her shoulder sent ripples of sensation directly to her nipples. The taut nubs ached as they pushed against the thin fabric of her sundress and rubbed the stucco wall. “You’d stand a better chance of impressing me without the weapon,” she added dryly.

“Possibly.” He pressed closer, flexing his hips against the gentle curve of her butt.

“Have you ever heard the saying don’t pull a gun unless you intend to use it?”

“Dealing with you, the thought did cross my mind.” Kever dropped his arm.

Moira swiveled around and shoved him off her before she raised her hand. The smack she dealt him left his cheek tingling. He slid his fingers along his jaw. “The gun wasn’t even loaded.”

“And that’s worse!” Moira yelled. “How stupid to carry an unloaded weapon.” She threw her hands in the air and stalked off, grumbling just loud enough for him to hear her. “He calls himself a damn cop.”

Kever rubbed a hand down his face. Talk about a joke that backfired, he trotted behind Moira. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“It was a stupid prank on my part,” he added humbly.

“Yes, it was.” Her tone remained clipped.

“Okay, how can I make it up to you?”

“You can’t.” She walked through her backdoor and tried to close the glass panel in his face.

“Please.” He placed a palm on the door and pushed it farther open. Stepping into her living area, Kever continued to stalk her as she moved through the rooms. She finally stopped in the kitchen at the refrigerator. Moira pulled out a beer.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?” He cocked his head.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere and
you
would drive a nun to drink. Why are you in my house?” She twisted the cap off and took a healthy swallow.

“I am really sorry. That was callous of me and I should have known better.” He eased into the room and placed both guns on the countertop.

“I swear, Kever, one day…” She kept her back to him.

“One day what?”

“Never mind. Would you please just go?”

“Can’t. I’m your security guard for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Send for someone else.”

“No.”

Moira swung around and slammed the bottle down next to the guns. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Kever invaded her space and gripped her face between his hands. “Because for some reason you are in my blood.” He dropped his head down and kissed her.

He would’ve sighed when she opened her mouth had he been able to. But she sucked the breath from him. Rimming her teeth with his tongue, he dipped deeper and tangled his tongue with hers. Her hands traveled north up his chest and stopping just below his collarbone. Kever took her acquiescence as an invitation and wrapped his arms around her waist, heaving her up against him and trapping her hands between them. He broke the kiss, lifting his head. At some point she’d closed her eyes and they fluttered open.

“It’s killing me, Moira. I’m around you and can’t touch you. I want you, please…” He dropped his forehead to hers.

“Kever, we are like vinegar and oil. We might mix well for a minute but we’ll always be at odds.”

“One night, spend just one night with me. Let me show you exactly how good we can be together.” He was pleading and didn’t give a damn. His cock took up most of the room in the crotch of his pants and it was getting substantially smaller by the second.

She searched his gaze. The heat from her palms seared his skin through his shirt. Kever resisted the urge to swallow. If she denied him he was prepared to drop to his knees and lay out his reasoning at her feet. Very slowly she nodded and he kept his body rigid while inside he was sagging in relief. He bent, slipping an arm under her knees and lifting her up in his arms. “Point me in the direction of your bedroom.”

“Why?” She licked her lips and smiled.

Kever cocked a brow. “I have something very special I want to show you.”

Moira closed her eyes. “If that’s the case then surprise me with your creativity. You can take me anywhere but the bedroom.” With a sexy smirk on her face she laid her cheek on his shoulder.

Chapter Four

Moira didn’t peek.
You do realize you’re playing with fire, right?
she asked herself. He swung her around and she clung to him as he moved about. His chuckle sent currents speeding down her spine with a direct connection to her pussy. She could feel the cream pooling deep within the crevices of her nether-lips. Pressing her thighs together only amplified the throbbing between her legs. A squeak from a knob gave her an idea of where they were going and the swirl of cool air around them confirmed it. After she heard the solid click of a door closing she was put down. The cold surface of her seat bled through her light dress. She placed her hands beside the outside of her thighs, feeling the metal and opened her eyes.

Kever smirked. “You said creative.”

“I did. Do I even want to know why I’m sitting on the washing machine?” She tilted her head to study him.

“Work with me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” His smile widened

Moira couldn’t help but return the infectious sentiment. Shaking her head, she slid her hands along the smooth enamel and leaned back. “Do your worst…or your best.” She spread her legs and waited.

Kever eased his hands up from her knees, his calloused palms skittering along her bare skin. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. The sensation of butterflies flittered in her belly. She watched as his digits moved beneath the fabric of her dress, stopping at the apex of her thighs. She felt his thumbs slip beneath the elastic of her panties and flit across the trimmed hair of her mons.  She raised her head and met his stare. He held her gaze as he pushed his digits further and grazed the moist heat of her slit. Kever leaned in and dropped minute kisses at her throat.

She briefly wondered if he could hear the rhythmic beat of her heart as it sped up. He reached her ear and traced his tongue along the shell before sucking her lobe into his mouth. He bit down. Her breathing came in short pants and her juices surpassed the dam her folds created to flow over his fingers. Moira tried to snap her legs shut and her knees knocked against his hips. Trembling, she lifted her arms, sliding them across his biceps before they gave out. The slow slide of his tongue along the vein in her neck made her tilt her head to give him better access to her throat.

His grip tightened on her thighs, he dipped a finger into her honey pot, tracing her sensitive tissue. A low moan escaped through her lips and she closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasure he was creating. She felt his finger circle her clit and the tingles turned into sharp bolts that shot along her nerve endings. He pulled away from her torso. Moira opened her eyes as her hands fell from his arms. He angled his body and slipped his finger from beneath her underclothing. Kever lifted the finger to his mouth. Her nipples hardened to a painful rigidity as she watched him suck his digits clean of her cream.

In a sudden move, Kever grabbed the hem of her dress and rolled it up, snatching it from under her butt. She lifted her arms and he yanked the material off her. Self-conscious, she crossed her arms over her breasts. She felt the heat color her cheeks under the perusal of his gaze. Placing a finger under her chin he lifted her face and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. “Don’t get shy on me now, Cher.”

She narrowed her eyes at him in reaction to the pet name he enjoyed calling her. Straightening her back, Moira reached for the buttons on his shirt, releasing them with a flick of her fingers. She pushed the clothing from his shoulders and trailed her fingers down the white cotton of his under shirt. With the hem of his T-shirt in hand she raised it up and off his body. The cotton material fell from her fingers. Moira reared back to get a good look at him, taking in the cut definition of his shoulders, chest and arms. A smattering of hair started at his belly button and thickened as it led south to disappear behind his slacks. The solid outline of his shaft was apparent in the snug fit of his pants.