"I borrowed the key from Sarah."
"Figures. Women working together."
After one final kiss goodbye, Tex straddled his Harley and headed off to work for the day. He strolled into the garage a little after eight.
"You're late," Shooter called from under a Ford.
Tex was unconcerned. "You and I have something in common now."
Shooter slid out on the rolling board and looked up at him. "I'm never late."
"No. I mean a woman showed up at my house last night with my name tattooed on her ass, and I've gotta tell you, Shooter, if you were half as surprised as I was then you were pretty god damned surprised."
Hawk laughed. "I thought that was a good thing in your world, cowboy."
Tex gave him a lopsided grin. "Depends on the woman."
"So, what'd you do?" Easy asked.
Tex's half grin morphed into a full one. "Tied her up and did nasty things to her most of the night."
"Can she still walk?" Shooter asked.
Tex shrugged. "Well, she's back to sassing me this morning, so I guess I didn't do any permanent damage."
Shooter smiled. "So, you and Vegas are finally back together. 'Bout time."
"We're seeing how it goes," Tex cautioned.
Shooter grinned. "Uh huh.
When's
the wedding? I need to pencil it on the calendar. Give the boys time off."
"We're just seeing how it goes!"
"Right," Shooter said. "Like it was just lunch for me and Slick?"
"She's young!" Tex argued. "Maybe she doesn't want to marry a dirty old man like me! She doesn't know yet and neither do I. We're. Seeing. How. It. Goes." Shooter was still grinning. Tex glowered. "I do terrible things to her, Chris. Terrible, dirty,
depraved
things. She may decide she doesn't like them."
"Ack!" Shooter said, getting shaken out of his shit-eating grin. "No details! No details! I don't want to know! As long as it's, what's that thing, safe, sane and consensual, I don't want to hear!"
"I totally want to hear!" said Emilio. "What do you do to her?" he asked, fascinated. "Like you make her take it up the ass and stuff?"
"
Oh, my God!
" Shooter yelled and glared daggers at Emilio. "First off, seventeen is way too young to know what that is. Second, if you're lucky enough to get it in the
front
door, you buy her dinner and flowers. Entiendo?"
"And wear a condom," Hawk supplied.
"That's right!" Shooter snapped. "Always wear a rubber. You know that. If some little girl shows up here carrying your baby, I will beat your ass."
Tex turned to Emilio. "Abby is a highly intelligent woman. I don't
make
her do anything, Emilio," he said in a gravelly tone to let the kid know how serious he was. "She's with me because she wants to be and everything is her choice. Always. No means no, kid.”
Emilio held up his hands. “Okay, I got it, cowboy.”
Tex nodded. “You just worry about graduating from High School, boy. Plenty of time for women later.”
“She really got your name tattooed on her ass?” Hawk asked, amazed.
“Says ‘Tex.’ Big as Texas,” he replied.
Hawk considered this. “You must be one hell of a Dominatrix.”
Tex scowled at him. “Dominatrices are women.”
Hawk looked confused. “Don’t see your point.”
Tex flipped him off.
“Well, now that the band’s back together,” Shooter said, “Are we all going to Maria’s tonight?”
“Hell, yes,” Tex replied.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Abby was on her second martini when she eyed Mark from across the table they were occupying. Doc and Easy were finishing up a game of pool while Hawk was flirting with some cowgirl in a dark corner. Shooter was at the bar, talking to Maria and keeping an eye on his wife, who was serving drinks in the busy establishment. Abby gulped down the gin and set the glass on the table. “I think we should play for it,” she announced.
Mark looked from Doc’s combo shot to Abby. “Play for what?” he asked, confused since they hadn’t actually been discussing anything.
Abby leaned toward him and indicated the pool table. “If you win, you get to pussy whip me,” she said in just above a whisper. “And if I win, I pussy whip
you
. This seems like the fairest way.”
Mark suppressed the urge to laugh. “I agree that it does seem fair, but since I lack the appropriate equipment for being pussy whipped, what do you suggest we do about that? Because you’re not whipping my cock or my balls.”
Abby grinned. “If I win, we do whatever I want. All day tomorrow. Shopping, lunch, maybe a movie.”
“Shopping,” he repeated.
“I try things on. You hold my purse and tell me I look good in everything. Shopping.”
He eyed the table and then looked at her. “You’re two drinks in the bag and you want to play now?”
She nodded. “I could still beat you.”
He grinned. “You’re on. Do we need to shake on it?”
“What? You don’t trust me?” she asked innocently.
Doc beat Easy and Mark stood up. “Gentlemen,” he announced. “We’ll take those.”
Abby held out her hand to take the cue from Easy. “You two are going to play?” the youngest man asked. He scrutinized Abby. “Aren’t you half drunk already?”
Abby glared at him. “Shut up,” she said, reaching for the cue.
Easy swung it away and she nearly stumbled trying to reach it. “You’re totally hammered,” he declared. Then he handed her the cue. “My money’s on Tex,” he called out to Doc. “Vegas is sloshed.”
Doc considered this. “I don’t know. She’s wily.” He pulled out his wallet. “I got fifty bucks on Vegas. Tex is toast.”
Mark racked the balls and Shooter wandered over. “What’s up?” he asked the group.
“Vegas may or may not be drunk,” Easy answered, “and thinks she can beat our boy.”
“I say it’s a hustle,” Doc declared. “She’s gonna kick his ass.”
“Really?” Shooter asked. “You think she can take him?”
Doc shrugged. “Like I told the kid, she’s wily. Breaking into people’s houses and shit. She’s probably a criminal mastermind.”
Shooter thought about this. “Yeah, I can totally see your reasoning.” He pulled out his own wallet. “I got fifty bucks on the redhead.”
“Jesus,” Tex said, annoyed. “Do none of you have faith in me?”
Shooter grinned. “Against Vegas? Nope. Hawk!”
The large man ambled over and spied the stack of bills on the edge of the table. “Are we settling our tab already?” He checked his watch. “Seems early.”
“Nah,” said the lieutenant. “Tex and Vegas are gonna play a game.”
“Oh, shit! I’m in! My money’s on Vegas. No doubt,” he said, slapping down a bill.
“Fuck all of you,” Tex announced loudly. “Except Easy. He’s my only friend.”
Easy frowned. “Actually if she weren’t piss drunk I’d change my bet,” he admitted.
Mark flipped him off. All the men laughed.
“You want to break?” asked Mark, with a shit-eating grin.
“Up to you,” Abby told him, chalking her cue.
“Oh, then you go ahead,” he told her, still grinning.
Abby knew he thought she couldn’t do it. He’d probably played against a lot of girls who didn’t have enough cue control or strength to break up the rack. She leaned over the table, hand on the felt, and lined up her shot. She hit hard and with confidence, splitting up the grouping nicely, sinking two balls to boot.
“Damn it,” said Easy and everyone laughed.
“Stripes,” she called brightly, rounding the corner for another shot.
“You’re gonna be
wearing
my stripes if you lose,” Mark growled.
“Oooh,” said the men, gathering to the side to watch.
Abby missed her shot and glared at Mark.
“That was kind of hot even if I don’t play that way,” Hawk mused.
“What do you get if
you
win, Vegas?” Chris asked.
She grinned. “He has to come along on a girl’s day out. Shopping, lunch. I’m thinking of throwing in a mani-pedi, too.”
The men laughed hysterically. “I don’t think he has enough money to pay someone a fair wage to touch his feet,” said Hawk. “A whole year’s salary wouldn’t cover it. Oh, my God, paint his nails! Please!”
Mark sank his shot and stood up. “No nail painting. I didn’t agree to that.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “I meant for me. While you hold my purse.”
Mark sank two more balls, but missed a third. Abby was on a run of two when he bent over and whispered, “You are going to come so hard at the end of my crop.” She bounced her shot off the ten ball and swore loudly.
“Cheater,” she hissed.
He grinned. “Hey. In the army we had to learn to shoot amid distractions. Why can’t you?”
Abby scowled as she stalked around the table. They were down to the finish now. Mark only had the eight ball left and she still had two balls in play. They were desperate times. As he lined up his final shot, Abby walked into his line of view and turned to the men. “Oh, hey,” she said, casually. “I don’t think you guys ever got to see my tattoo!” She spun and bent over, lifting her skirt all the way over her hips and pulling down the waistband of her panties a little.
“Holy Shit!” Easy yelled.
“Damn!” said Hawk.
Mark sank the eight ball, but the cue ball went in after it. “God damn it!” he shouted.
Abby pulled up her panties and let her dress fall back down. “Wait!” said Easy. “Was there a tattoo? I missed it! I was too busy looking at her ass!”
“I gotta go,” Hawk announced. “I gotta find some hot babe and try not picture your girlfriend’s ass while I’m doing her.” He looked at Abby. “Unless you’re gonna take off more clothes. Then I’ll stick around and wait for the whole visual.”
Mark glared at Hawk. “Go. Away.” He came up to stand beside Abby and laid a resounding smack on her bottom. She jumped. He leaned down to her ear. “Bad,” he half-whispered, and tapped the base of the medium sized plug she was wearing that was hidden by her panties. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“So much for shooting amid distraction,” Easy muttered.
Shooter and Doc laughed. “Well, in his defense, the army doesn’t have women in black lace panties popping up on courses to test their focus on the mission,” Shooter replied.
Mark took his beer off the table. “We should email them about their oversight. If the enemy gets wind of our weakness, we’ll never win another war.”
Abby had one more martini and Mark steered her out the door to his Hummer. She giggled as he reached for the door with one hand while pressing her up against the vehicle, kissing her and letting his free hand caress her bottom.
At the house she kicked off her shoes and pulled her dress off over her head. She threw it on to the floor. After Mark got his shirt and jeans off, she pushed him back on to the bed. “I want to be the Dom tonight,” she slurred.
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, grinning up at her.
She crawled up over him, straddling his thighs. “Uh huh. I want to tie you up.”
“Nope, sorry. No bondage while either of us is drunk. That’s a rule.”
Abby frowned. “Fine. But I’m still in charge.”
Mark smiled. “Yes, Mistress Vegas. What do you command?”
Abby laid herself over his lap, panty-clad ass in the air. “Spank me,” she demanded.
He laughed. “That’s not being a Domme, honey. That’s topping from the bottom.”
She giggled. “That sounds like a cooking term. Spank my ass!” Mark’s hand came down with a sharp thud. Abby squealed. “Yes!” she cried, grabbing the sheets. “Harder!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Mark replied, slapping her cheeks in quick succession, each blow getting progressively stronger. He tugged down her panties and she kicked them the rest of the way off. His slaps stung, sending a pleasant warmth all over her rear end. She wiggled furiously, pressing her pussy against his hard cock. He reached down, rubbing her ass with one hand and twisting and tugging the plug with the other.