Shooter (Burnout) (21 page)

For a man with a Texas drawl and who looked more at home in a biker bar than almost anyone else Hayley had ever met, Tex’s house was quite a surprise. A one-story, large ranch almost at the edge of town in a well-manicured subdivision. His kitchen gleamed with stainless steel appliances, black tile counters and warm hardwood floors.

His living room was decked out in comfortable but stylish matching furniture and a huge flat screen above the fireplace. Hayley hadn’t exactly been expecting milk crates for chairs and hubcaps for dinner plates, but neither was she expecting a house that looked as though it could be photographed for Midwestern Living.

A large group, some regulars from the bar but mostly people she didn’t know, had gathered around in Tex’s fenced-in backyard to judge the cook-off. Hayley held her breath after tasting Tex’s fall-off-the-bone pork ribs and had to admit the man could braise his ass off.

Whether she was a sympathetic newcomer or truthfully a better cook was up for debate, but Milo declared her a culinary angel sent from God to deliver them, and the rest of crowd agreed. If Tex thought she’d won merely because she was new and cute, he kept it to himself, losing gracefully and supplying the crowd with a huge batch of peach cobbler to make up for his perceived shortcomings.

Hayley admitted the dessert was as good as anything she could make herself and busied herself gathering up dirty dishes and empty serving bowls and taking them to the kitchen. She wasn’t quite comfortable in the large crowd of mostly strangers. At the sink, she heard a voice from behind her.

“Still disappointed you ain’t my type,” Tex said.

“You said that before,” Hayley called over her shoulder. “What’s your type? And how do you know I’m not?”

“You got too much sass. See, honey, there’s two types of sass. Regular sass….and bedroom sass. Now, I like regular sass. But-” A sharp crack sounded and Hayley spun around to see Tex holding a wooden spoon that he’d apparently used to swat the heel of his palm. He was grinning. “I don’t tolerate bedroom sass.” Hayley held her breath as he casually replaced the spoon in the holder. “Hard as hell to find a good woman with a lot of one and none of the other.”

Hayley’s heart raced. “You...beat them?”

Tex frowned. “Hell no, Slick. Do I seem like the kind of guy who beats on women? Or needs to? No, Slick. I don’t beat them. I discipline them. No permanent marks, no blood. Just discipline. For our mutual pleasure.”

Hayley nervously wiped her wet hands on her jeans. “Mutual pleasure? They…like it?”

“They like that they don’t like it.”

“That…makes no sense.”

He grinned. “Which is why you’re not my type.”

Hayley considered this and swallowed hard. “Does…I mean, Chris...doesn’t…”

Tex shook his head and Hayley let go of the breath she was holding. “Nope,” Tex said. “Not even a little, far as I know. He likes a lot of bedroom sass and not so much regular sass.”

Hayley frowned. “What does that
mean
?”

Chris’s voice caught their attention from the open doorway. “Means I’m used to giving orders and having them followed. But not in the bedroom. I got my fill of ‘Yes, Sir/No, Sir’ in the service. And “Master,” he rolled his eyes, “is on a level I can’t even being to deal with.”

Hayley’s eyes widened and she looked from Chris to Mark. “Master?!” she squeaked.

Mark shook his head. “Me neither, honey. If I wanted a blow up doll, I’d own one. Nah. I’m looking for a smart, beautiful, regular sassy, not bedroom sassy woman who can dress herself. When I let her wear clothes.”

“And call you, Sir,” Chris added.

“And call me, Sir.” Tex considered this. “Or not call me Sir, if I’ve a mind to gag her.”

Hayley’s mouth dropped open. “Gag her?!”

“Mutual pleasure, darlin’.”

Hayley’s brain hiccupped. “Why would that be pleasurable?”

He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Which is again why you’re not my type.”

Hayley rubbed her hands on her jeans again. “But you don’t hurt them?”

“Not the way you mean. Never.”

“And you’re looking for a smart, beautiful, regular sassy,
not bedroom sassy
, independent woman to call you Sir.”

Tex pulled his hat down in a gesture of acknowledgment. “Yep.”

“Except when she’s gagged,” Hayley added.

He nodded again.

Hayley grinned up at him. “Does she salute then?”

Tex’s mouth dropped open. Then he leaned his head back and roared with laughter. “Does she salute? Oh, God.” He swept Hayley up in a hug and laughed even harder. “Girl, you’ve got way too much sass.”

Tex headed back outside and Hayley looked at Chris. “He really doesn’t hurt them?”

Chris shook his head. “If he did, he wouldn’t be welcome in my home.”

Hayley nodded to herself. “So….you don’t…”

“I tried it once.”

“You did?”

“Tex and I went to a club in Japan while we were on leave. Wasn’t for me.”

Hayley considered this. “Maybe it was the language barrier.”

Chris laughed. “Honey, I speak enough Japanese to get by. Wasn’t a language problem. Submission is submission in any language and that’s not what I want.”

“You want bedroom sass. Not regular sass. That’s what Tex said.”

Chris shrugged. “I like a girl who gives as good as she gets. Not one who just wants to be done to. So, yeah, I guess.”

“What about Caleb?”

Chris lifted an eyebrow. “Are you shopping?”

“No! I just thought, I mean, he has the handcuffs. And he’s very…authoritative. I could see him wanting to be called Sir,” she mused. “And Hawk. Hawk is…large. He’s intimidating without actually doing anything.”

Chris shrugged. “Only to you. Women normally just throw themselves at him, he doesn’t have to do much to get their attention.”

“But he never calls them back.”

Chris grinned a lopsided grin. “He’s not big on commitment.”

“Why is that?”

Chris shrugged. “Parents had a shitty marriage. Sister had a shitty marriage. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for monogamy.”

“What was Jimmy like? Before?”

Chris laughed. “Easy’s so young he was barely out of the, ‘
Oh my God I can’t believe I’m getting laid
,’ stage.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe. He’s so hot.”

Chris folded his arms across his chest. “He’s so hot?” he repeated.

“Well, kind of! I mean, when he’s not scowling, or frowning, or otherwise messing up his face by being perpetually in a bad mood. Yeah, he’s easily the hottest. Which is saying a lot because you’re all kind of hot. Like scary hot. It’s weird how there’s not like one average guy in your group. Then again, if I were an average guy, I would never hang out with you guys, ‘cause I would never meet girls. Or maybe I would meet girls, like when Hawk’s done with them. So how come there aren’t any normal guys in your circle of friends?”

“I don’t know!” Chris nearly shouted back. “Maybe because your options are never getting pussy or getting Hawk’s sloppy seconds! Neither of which would seem that appealing to a guy! Is that what you want? Some ‘normal’ guy?

“If you wanted a normal guy, how come you’ve got your nose stuck in romance novels all day long?! You think Duke Poofy Pants is a ‘normal’ guy? Who just happens to be super rich, underwear model handsome, and somehow has the answer to all your problems? You don’t know what the hell you want! And you’re shopping my friends like you’re picking out a new car!

“Well here, I’ll help you! You already know Tex likes girls to call him ‘Sir’ when he spanks them. And Hawk’ll fuck anyone as long as you don’t expect him to remember your name before, during, or after. Especially not after. And Jimmy’s probably so happy that his dick didn’t get blown off along with his leg that he’d do you right now just to prove to himself that he can. If you-”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” came Hawk’s booming voice from the entryway of the sliding glass door. “We can all hear you, you dumb fuck! Where do you get off talking to her like that?” Shooter watched as Hayley skirted past him and out the front door of his house, crying. Hawk loomed in the back door with his arms crossed over his chest.

***********************

It took the better part of an hour to apologize to his friends, especially Jimmy, who mostly only grunted his responses and then asked for a ride back to the assisted living center. Chris had never felt like a bigger ass in his whole life. The ride back to the center was uncomfortably silent, so much so, that Chris blurted out, “She thinks you’re hot.”

Easy was shaken from his reverie out the passenger window and glanced at him. “What?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “She said you were hot and it…may have tweaked my temper. A little.”

Easy stared at him until he finally snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“No, that’s what she said. That you’re easily the hottest in a group made up of only hot guys. And I guess I should be grateful just to be lumped in as a ‘hot guy’ but still…”

Easy grinned. “I
am
the hottest.”

“Well, no shit, Sherlock, but she doesn’t need to be rubbing my nose in it!”

Easy’s grin widened. “You got jealous.”

Chris’ grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Negative. I do not get jealous. Especially not jealous of a grunt who needs a shower and a shave, and needed it like two months ago.”

Easy sat in silence for a moment. “So you’re saying if I cleaned up I could steal your girl out from under you?”

Chris’ head snapped toward Easy and Easy laughed out loud at the anger on his former lieutenant’s face. “She’s not my girl,” he declared.

“Awesome. So there’s no reason I can’t nail her. Since I still have my dick and all.”

“Stop busting my balls over that. I was pissed.”

“Grateful I have both balls, too.”

“Oh my God!” Chris yelled. “Let it go. It’s bad enough you stole that blond from me that time at that bar in Germany.”

Easy smiled knowingly. “You said you weren’t into her.”

Chris glared at his squad mate. “Fuck you.”

“Maybe I’ll steal
two
girls from you,” Easy mused. “One for each of my balls.”

“God damn it!” Chris bellowed, the boom reverberating in the cab.

**************************

Hayley turned the doorknob lock on the front door and quietly slipped out, shutting the door behind her.

“So I’m an asshole and you just run away?”

She shrieked, spun around and clutched her duffel bag to her chest. When she regained her composure, she said, “What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Waiting for you to do something stupid. Which you are.”

She bristled. “I’m not ripping you off,” she snapped. “I left money and the key on the kitchen table!”

“I didn’t think you would rip me off.”

“No. You just think the scumbag con artist is ‘shopping’ your friends, trying to get her hooks into one of them!”