Hot Wired (11 page)

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Authors: Betty Womack

Tags: #Menage a Trois (m/m/f), #PolyAmour

BOOK: Hot Wired
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Bank robbers, hired killers? They’re not cops. They live too well. Damn it.

She sat in the comfortable chair for several minutes, thinking over the situation.

The thought they might be unscrupulous bad asses gave her a jolt of pleasure. They couldn’t be penny ante trash. Their entire lifestyle was too refined for small time burglars or car thieves. She crossed her legs to stave off the sudden twinge of sexual excitement between her legs.

She stretched her arms over her head and shivered with remembered pleasure. Energized with sudden desire to be doing something, she went into the kitchen to clear away her dishes. She would wash them later. At the moment, she couldn’t shake the curiosity about what Gordon was up to.

The time had come to pay him a visit. Anyway, she had to check her mail.

She went into the garage through the kitchen and got into the Escalade. She wouldn’t stay long at her apartment, just long enough to get an estimate as to when Gordon planned to move on. He never could keep a job, preferring to live on unemployment checks and handouts from his mom. Just one more reason they split.

She drove faster, dark suspicion hovering around her. He had to be up to no good or he wouldn’t have sought her out.

When she parked in her driveway, the front door to her unit stood open. Music rolled out of the house to greet her as she ran up the walkway to the small porch. She wasn’t surprised by the scene before her. Screwing was the one thing he had talent for.

She stomped to the couch where he lay intertwined with two bare-assed chicks, his dick in one’s mouth and his tongue in the other one’s pussy. They were stoned. The house reeked of weed and booze. They didn’t stop their party just because she watched them. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a full pitcher of cold water, then took great joy in splashing it over the trio. Shock and indignation registered on all three faces that stared up at her.

“I’ll give you two minutes to get out. All of you.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and eyed the threesome. “Gordon Bell, we’re finished.”

“But, babe.” He staggered to his feet, grinning the baby grin she once loved. “I got lonesome and ran into these ladies at a bar. You know how it is.”

Carol wanted to throw up. “All I know is you were not supposed to be using my car for pleasure riding.” She slammed the door after the two females hurrying to get away from trouble. He started to follow them. “Wait a minute, buster. What have you done to my wheels? If you have wrecked it, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t been so cocky.”

She ran outside to the garage and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she prepared for the worst. Her worries were unfounded. The car looked the same. She walked around the vehicle, checking for scratches, stopping when she approached the front fender and placing her hand on the trunk. Gordon tried to pull her away from the car, his smile wavering.

“Don’t touch me, Gordon.” She popped the trunk lid and stared at the assortment of weapons laid out in plain sight. “What’s this?”

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, honey.” He attempted to close the trunk lid.

“What are you, a gun retailer now?” She punched his chest with her fist. “Is this the reason you’re running from the law? You idiot.”

“No, sweetie, I buy and sell.” He buttoned his jeans and tried to stay in front of her. “I’m a legal dealer. That law sees it differently.”

“I don’t believe you, Gordon.” She went into the house and noticed her mail on the coffee table. “I’ll bet you were disappointed at not finding a check in the mail. You scumbag. ”

“What do you want me to do? I’m broke, and I need help.” He whined like a small kid, making her angrier. “I’ll leave in the morning or whenever I get some cash in my pocket.”

“Not good enough, Gordy boy.” She pointed to the desk calendar. “Two days and you’d better be gone. I don’t want you or your trouble anywhere near me.”

The bastard didn’t even have the balls to thank her for not calling the law on him. A nagging worry whirled around in her head. This wasn’t over.

* * * *

Baron and Sham arrived back in Denver, toting a hostile drug dealer handcuffed in the club seat of the truck. They had driven straight through to get back before late evening, their prisoner complaining loudly about the rotten treatment he’d received from them. Baron parked in front of the precinct station and looked at Sham with a grin.

“You take him in. I don’t think he likes me.” Still smiling, he handed the cuff keys to Sham. “I’ll fill out the rest of the paperwork while you waltz his ass inside.”

Sham jumped out of the truck and opened the club door. “Come on, Big Time, you’re home.” He stepped back to let his prisoner out and grabbed his arm.

With shackles on the prisoner’s ankles, getting to the front door was an ordeal for Sham and the drug dealer. He shot a wad of spit at Sham, earning a smack to the back of his head for his trouble.

Sham’s patience had worn thin hours ago, and he thought about freeing the dirt bag’s hands to have real go at him. “Why are you pissed at me, hero? You’re not guilty, right?”

His prisoner snarled his answer. “Cut me loose and I’ll gut you, pretty boy.”

“Some other time, man.” Sham exhaled and pushed the angry man through the entry door an officer held open. He handed the keys to the grinning uniformed officer. “I’d like those shackles and keys back when your guest is tucked away for the night.”

He noticed Baron leaning on the booking counter, signing papers and chatting idly with a young officer. He’d seen the look many times in countless eyes. Hunger. The name tag on the guy’s chest said he was Steve. Like so many other times, Baron had initiated the conversation and flirted, and now he had the job of breaking out of it.

Baron continued scribbling as he introduced the man wearing too much cologne. “Steve has invited us to a barbeque at his place.” Tossing the pen aside, Baron smiled at him, still folding the release papers. “I said I’d have to see if you had plans.”

This was the first time Baron’s joking had gotten under his collar. “You know I don’t cheat on my wife.” The surprise on Steve’s face cooled Sham’s anger. “I’ll be out in the truck, honey.”

Baron trotted down the sidewalk to the truck with amazing energy. The guy never got tired. Or out of sorts. He climbed into the driver’s seat, looking at Sham. “I didn’t want to go to his damn cookout.”

“Don’t draw me into your little games again, Baron.”

“Okay.” Baron patted Sham’s thigh and turned the key in the ignition. “I didn’t want him around Carol, anyway.”

Conflicting emotions raged through Sham. After four years of being Baron’s lover, doubts sometimes crept in and old insecurities took command. Did his partner’s feelings run as deep as his own? Sham knew Baron loved him, but it ticked him off every time a new guy made a play for him. Oh yeah, it was a big joke to Baron, but they were a couple, and there was no room for anyone else but Carol.

After a long silent moment, Sham glanced at his partner and decided to let it go. The guy was a fucking jokester and didn’t realize he had the ability to rip his heart out. Sham laid his arm across the back of the seat and got a sexy smile as a reward. All was good.

Baron drove past their turn, and it became clear to Sham they were not going straight home. “So, what’s on your mind now?”

“Just checking to see if Carol’s fucking no good ex is still holed up in her place.”

Sham chuckled, realizing his partner had a genuine thing for Carol.

Baron drove slowly into her complex’s parking area and braked a short distance from her unit. Sham saw the same thing Baron had to have seen, but he reacted differently. Baron used the field glasses to study the scene, clenching his teeth. Sham didn’t comment on the tall guy in shorts and flip flops walking out to lean in the window of an older green sedan. This was the infamous Gordon Bell.

“That son-of-a-bitch is a real piece of work.” Baron hit the steering wheel with his palm. “If Carol knew he was entertaining a couple of whores in her house, she’d have him arrested.”

Sham agreed silently and attempted to calm his partner down. “We won’t tell her. Will we?”

“No.” Baron shoved a fresh stick of gum in his mouth. “You know that piece of shit is going to cause us more trouble than he’s worth.” He chewed for a few seconds, obviously plotting something evil for their gun runner. “We could take him down right now. She’d just think he took off on his own like the skunk he is.”

It was exactly what had been in his mind all along. Baron had a real dislike for Bell, and his emotions would work against them if the situation didn’t change. Sham exhaled roughly, keeping Bell in his sight. “Okay. The sooner we nail him, the sooner we find out what the price of doing that will be.”

“Now you’re talking, babe.” Baron slapped Sham’s knee and touched the weapon on his belt.

“Hold on, Baron.” Bell had gone into the house, but within a few minutes, he came back out and the red Beetle backed out of the garage. “Let’s follow him and see where he’s going in such a hurry.”

Sham grinned while Bell ground the gears of the small car. Carol would probably beat him to a pulp for screwing with her car like that. Lord, he could hardly wait to get home.

They followed Bell for several miles, going deeper into a seedy area where no one lived but people just looking for trouble and a quick buck. Their man finally pulled in behind a bar and got out to open the trunk of the car. The two women that had been in the green car emerged through the back door of the joint, followed by a half dozen sleazy looking characters.

They all gathered around the small car and carried on an animated conversation, complete with wild hand gestures and laughter.

“Let’s break up their party..” Baron made a move to get out of the truck, but Sham stopped him. “What the hell, Sham? If we don’t do it now, he might be gone tomorrow. I don’t want to chase him to Mexico.”

Sham heard deep anger in Baron’s words, not calm reasoning. “We are not interested in anyone but Bell. Do you really want to take on that mob?” He made his feelings clear. “Not me. I want to live awhile longer.”

Baron’s muffled curse didn’t bother Sham. He sensed Baron’s anger ebbing away while they sat in the dark and observed criminals pat each other on the back. “Listen, Sham, if that bastard slips by us, I am going to kick you right square in the ass.” Baron turned the key in the ignition, giving the little red Beetle a final look as they drove away.

Sham ignored Baron’s threat, his thoughts turning over all the scenarios that might arise. “He won’t take off anytime soon.”

“You’re sure of that?” Baron’s words were slightly caustic.

“Pretty damn certain.” Sham crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s not through playing Carol.”

Chapter Twelve

Carol paced the floor once she got back to the guys house, trying to quiet her nerves after the confrontation with Gordon. She had been right to check up on him and now was sorry as hell she had. He was nothing to her, so why did his crazy lifestyle bother her? She had been crazy about him once, but he’d killed all that by walking over her heart with his dusty boots.

Armaments salesman, my ass
.

But, in her tribe of siblings and relatives, family was still important, and he’d been part of that circle for a while. She couldn’t turn her back on him, even though he was stupid as a road biscuit.

She heaved a sigh of relief when the headlights of the truck lit up the driveway. They were home, and she made a mad dash for the stairs. The big house had been too quiet, even with the TV and stereo to keep her company.

She ran down the steps and into Baron’s arms when the front door opened. He laughed and pulled her close, his lips warm and eager. His long, hard kiss turned her breathless with excitement and happiness. “I am so glad you came home.” She clung to Baron’s strong neck until Sham teased her.

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