Cop a Feel

by Robyn Peterman

  “Um, Shoshanna, I . . .” Luke began.

  “It’s Mama,” she corrected him. “Now since you’re working, I’ll let you call me Shoshanna, but in private it’s Mama and I won’t hear any back talk. You understand?”

  “Um . . .”

  “Good,” she shouted, cutting him off again. “I have always wanted a goddamned son. Getting death threats has turned out to be fucking awesome.”

  Flabbergasted best described Luke, and I could no longer hold back my giggles. He glanced over at me with a look that screamed “what am I supposed to do?” and I lost it.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re laughing at, little missy,” Shoshanna sang from the backseat. “I’m gonna be your mother-in-law.”

  That shut me up fast, and now it was Luke’s turn to enjoy himself. I racked my brain for a comeback, but Shoshanna was a last word kind of gal. I decided saying nothing would be my safest bet.

  “So kids,” she continued as if she hadn’t just dropped several nuclear bombs, “I have a goody bag for you.” She hoisted a large hot pink bag over the seat. “I need some shut-eye and if I keep this shittin’ seat belt on, I’m gonna fart in my sleep. And trust me, that would be bad for everyone.” She took off her seat belt, lay down, and started snoring within seconds.

  We drove in silence and listened to Shoshanna snore. Several times I tried to find my balls and start a conversation, but the words got stuck in my throat.

  “You don’t have any questions for me?” Luke inquired, noticing my latest aborted attempt to speak.

  “Um, yes, but I don’t know where to start.”

  “Anywhere. Start anywhere.”

  “You’re loaded.”

  “Yep. I’m loaded. I could care less about that since most of it’s blood money, but it doesn’t suck not having to worry about paying bills. I’ve given a shit-ton of it away, but it just never seems to run out.”

  “You have an island?” It was difficult to absorb. I had never met anyone who had a freakin’ island.

  “Yep and that’s where you’ve agreed to go with me.”

  “Does anyone live on it?” What in the hell was this conversation? It felt like a cheesy Lifetime movie where the poor girl finds out the dude she’s been doing the nasty with is a sheik.

  “Caretakers. I haven’t been there in about two years. I assume it’s still there.” He grinned and waited for me to scream.

  “I can’t date a bagillionaire,” I stammered. “I live in a tiny house and I like it. I love outlet malls and Target. I don’t own a ball gown and I don’t ever use more than one fork even when they put out two at a restaurant. I shoot people and I don’t fit in to polite society. I have shitty people skills and you should probably find an heiress or someone who has some designer shoes.”

  “Do I look like someone who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth?” he asked.

  I stared at the floorboard, still finding reasons this could never work.

  “I grew up in hell. My grandparents were good people, but they were old when I was a child. My parents didn’t want me, but eventually had no choice. I didn’t spend my youth in boarding schools playing cricket and eating caviar. I was witness to things a kid should never see. They fucking used me as bait for drug lords and a child sex slave ring. I saw more blood and death by the time I was eighteen than most people see in ten lifetimes. I don’t own a tux. I don’t use six forks. I drink beer out of the bottle and I want you in my life. Permanently.”

  “I . . .”

  “I’m not finished. You are the only woman who has made me stop and want things that I thought were unreasonable and impossible. I started to care if I died and I didn’t hate the fact that I had a chalet in France because I’ve imagined bringing you there a hundred times. You’re as fucked up as I am and I mean that as a compliment. You’re everything I never thought I could find and I’ve decided to keep you.”

  “Do I have a choice?” I whispered, trying to suppress my delight. He passed all the tests I didn’t even know I needed him to take. He was broken, but strong and beautiful and good . . . and I wanted him.

  “No, you don’t.” He grinned, relief at my tone softened his features. “Besides you already made your choice back at Shoshanna’s purple abode.”

  “You mean your mama’s house?” I teased.

  “Was she serious?” he asked, still totally thrown by Shoshanna’s edict.

  “I’m pretty sure she was.” I glanced back at the sleeping Shoshanna and smiled. She was beautiful and I think Luke was secretly moved by her offer. Not that he’d actually take her up on it . . . but in the end, he might not have a choice. She was a force of nature.

  “I need a lighter subject,” he said, popping on some sunglasses that made him look hotter than he already was. “What’s in the bag?”

  “I’m not sure we want to know.” I reached in and extracted the first thing my hand touched—a supersized vibrator with a smiling Shoshanna on it. “Oh shit,” I gasped, and dropped it on Luke’s lap. He glanced down and blanched.

  “Tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing,” he begged.

  “What do you think you’re seeing?” I asked on the verge of hysterics.

  “I think I see my mama on a vibrator,” he snorted.

  “That’s exactly what you see. Welcome to your new family,” I squealed, unable to hold it back any longer. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to use a vibrator again. Shoshanna’s smiling face on the vibrating part was seared into my brain. Years of therapy couldn’t erase that image.

  “Help me Jesus,” Luke laughed.

  I’m not sure how long we laughed, but it was cathartic. All the tension and fear of what might come was gone for the moment. I was happy and my stomach muscles ached from laughing. I put the bag on the floor; we could check out the other items later. Reaching over, I took Luke’s hand in mine and we rode the rest of the way in silence, listening to the loud, but lovely snores of his mama.

  Chapter 18

  I didn’t know what to expect of SCREW-Con, but it certainly wasn’t this. Hundreds of bizarrely clad people roamed the atrium lobby of the Marriott. Conversations were loud and animated and everyone appeared happy and excited. Some wore leather and chains, some had on sweatpants and T-shirts, and some looked like regular Joes off the street. The main problem, from a protection standpoint, was the sheer number of people. This was a clusterfuck. Keeping Shoshanna safe was going to be difficult at best. I glanced over at Luke, who assessed the crowd and kept Shoshanna slightly behind him. I moved in and flanked her back.

  “I love this,” Shoshanna shouted, trying to hug a few fans.

  The moment she spoke, she was rushed. She was a rock star and a goddess in this group. My hand went to the weapon in my purse, but I wisely didn’t pull it. Luke stepped up and raised his voice.

  “Back off, everyone. Shoshanna is delighted to see you all, but she has, um . . . strep throat and is contagious,” he informed the excited crowd.

  “Oh my goodness,” a gal in head-to-toe black leather cried out. “You feel better, Shoshanna! We love you!”

  “In a show of love and support for Shoshanna LeHump, I’d like to ask everyone to raise their hands in the air and keep them there until Shoshanna leaves the room.”

  I shot Luke a glance. What was he doing? The crowd looked ridiculous, but we could see their hands . . . and the fact that no one held a weapon. He was brilliant.

  “Fucking awesome,” Shoshanna shouted, raising her own little arms high. “This will be our new move.”

  The crowd roared with approval and began waving their arms back and forth to a melody only they could hear. Keeping my eyes wide open, I carefully monitored the mass of groupies. They all complied with Luke’s rule and seemed to enjoy it immensely. It was a hell of a lot easier to keep Shoshanna from getting shot this way.

  “Shoshanna, when does the new book come out?” a hefty gal in green rubber yelled from the back.

  “In two weeks, but I broug
ht a whole bunch of early release copies for you guys,” Shoshanna bellowed back, causing a deafening roar from the crowd.

  “Who’s the shirtless hottie with you?” another rubber- and feather-covered woman asked, leering at Luke.

  “He’s my new cover model. His name is Duke LeHump and he’s hotter than Satan’s fucking underpants.” She slapped her soon to be son on his ass and the crowd went nuts. Luke was still processing that his new name was Duke LeHump and clearly didn’t register that his mom had just smacked his butt. If I wasn’t so busy scanning for killers, I would have dropped to the floor in hysterics.

  “Is he a relation?” Someone with a squeaky high voice wanted to know.

  “He’s my son,” Shoshanna crowed. “But don’t tell anyone,” she begged the crowd of at least one hundred and fifty. “The adoption isn’t final yet.”

  Again, the hordes roared with laughter, thinking it was a joke . . . little did they know.

  “What about the girl? She’s a hottie too,” a huge man sporting man-boobs and a fuschia brassiere demanded. “I want her outfit. It’s so me!”

  Luke’s head shot to the man. His possessiveness was going to have to stop. His focus should be Shoshanna and Shoshanna only. He visibly relaxed when he saw the size and outfit choice of my admirer.

  “She’s my assistant,” Shoshanna crowed with pride. I held my breath and waited to hear what my name was going to be. Why hadn’t we had the foresight to figure this out before it became Shoshanna’s lone decision . . . “Her name is Mandy Dandermanschmidt and she is the bomb!”

  WTF?

  “Okay everyone,” Luke called out to the crowd. “We have to get Shoshanna settled in. Just keep your hands in the air until you can’t see her anymore.”

  “Anything for you, Duke LeHump,” purred a gal who was seventy if she was a day, flirting openly with Luke.

  “Wait!” Shoshanna grabbed a bag and started hurling Ben Wa balls at the crowd. “Grow some balls!”

  The crowd shrieked with delight and dove for the shower of balls bouncing around the lobby. Luke grabbed Shoshanna, picked her up, and made for the elevators. I followed close behind, keeping my hand securely attached to my gun.

  I noticed a group of ridiculously handsome scantily clad men being pawed by a group of overzealous gals about thirty feet from the elevator as we waited. The men huddled together like a heard of frightened cows in a thunderstorm. They tried to hold on to their clothing as the randy ladies tore bits free for souvenirs.

  “What in the hell is happening over there?” I asked, feeling sorry for the guys.

  Shoshanna glanced over. “Oh, those are the cover models. They’ll be your competition in the pageant,” she told Luke. “Sweet baby Moses in a basket, that does seem a little out of control,” she muttered.

  Luke glanced over and blanched. “Shit.” He looked up to the heavens for intervention but none came. I grinned, but I actually did feel his pain. “Where in the hell is the elevator?”

  “Hang on.” Shoshanna slipped out of Luke’s arms and hustled over to the involuntary strip show. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and let loose with the shrillest and loudest whistle I’d ever heard rip. I was sure the people standing closest to her would sustain significant hearing damage. “Ladies,” she shouted at the stunned and temporarily deaf group. “I realize these men are panty-melting hot, but they are human beings and we will not objectify them the way men have objectified us for hundreds of years. We will admire their beauty, their greased pecs, and their tight asses, but we will also honor their brains and talents. We will not rip their clothes off. That is rude and I’m fairly sure illegal. Now step back and let me meet these lovely and well-built hunks.”

  She made her way through the now contrite crowd to the seriously grateful pretty boys.

  “Thank you,” the one who resembled a Greek god gasped. His blond hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes were silly gorgeous. He was joined by what appeared to be the most muscle-bound and sexy Hispanic twins I’d ever laid eyes on. Of course there was no missing the man with hair flowing to his waist and a body to die for . . . and the African American hottie with the rockin’ bod and eyes that could make you melt and the . . .

  “Put your tongue back in your mouth,” Luke hissed in my ear while eyeing the crowd for trouble. This new pack of women weren’t aware of the Shoshanna hands in the air move and Luke was taking no chances. “You’re mine and if you flirt with even one of them, I’ll shoot him.”

  I choked on my laughter and elbowed him as I scanned the perimeter of the crowd for newcomers. “You will not shoot anyone other than a bad guy,” I told him. “And I will hazard a guess that most of those insanely beautiful men bat for the other team. Soooooooo, maybe I should be warning you.”

  “Funny,” he grumbled.

  “What are your names?” Shoshanna asked the boys.

  “Jim,” the Greek god replied, shaking Shoshanna’s hand.

  “Cesar and Cheech,” the steamy Latin twins answered, kissing Shoshanna’s hands.

  “Teddy,” Mr. Sexy Hair chimed in.

  “Rocky,” the mocha-skinned beauty added, bowing to his savior Shoshanna.

  “Well goddamn if you’re not a pretty bunch! I brought my own model too. Wave to Duke LeHump,” she instructed her new buddies. “He’s my son and has a wonder ass.”

  The men nodded in agreement and dutifully waved at Luke, who shook his head and closed his eyes.

  “He’s a little shy, but he twerks like a motherfucker!”

  There was an audible moan of agony from Luke and the ladies shrieked with glee.

  “I challenge you to a twerk-off,” Teddy, the hair dude, shouted at Luke. Teddy’s eyes narrowed, and he gyrated his hips to punctuate his point or show off his package . . . I wasn’t sure which. Good God, he was serious.

  “This is fucked,” Luke muttered under his breath. “If he challenges me again, I’ll have to shoot him. Actually if he looks at me again, I’ll shoot him.”

  Was his solution to everything to shoot it? Wait . . . that was my solution. Shit. “Um, no. That won’t really help anything. Look, if you play along, I’ll give you a blow job later.” I said the first thing that came to my mind and boy, was it a doozy. I knew he was serious about shooting Hair Teddy, so I had to distract him . . . who was I kidding? I was dying to go down on him and had found an excellent excuse to be a hooker.

  Luke was speechless, but the huge grin that practically split his face made me giggle. “Deal?” I asked innocently.

  “Oh my hell, yes,” he hissed. “Grab Shoshanna, we’re out of here.”

  I moved in to pick up Shoshanna if necessary while Luke covered me. I hustled her back to the elevator just as the doors opened. Miraculously we were the only ones who got on.

  “This is gonna be great!” Shoshanna bounced up and down like a Ben Wa ball as Luke and I relaxed for the first time since entering the hotel.

  “You have the keys to all the rooms?” he asked.

  “Yup.” I held up the bunch and handed him his. “Shoshanna, you have a panel in an hour. Let’s go relax for a bit and make some plans. I want to check in with Steve.”

  “Sounds good. I’m gonna register Duke for the pageant online. I’m a VIP so we can bypass all the bullshit lines.”

  “About that . . .” Luke snapped.

  “Look, I should have checked with you guys about the names, but they were the first things that came to mind and I figured you didn’t want to use your real ones, being that this is a covert operation and all.” She still hadn’t stopped bouncing and I had to smile despite the fact that my new last name was Dandermanschmidt . . . I did have it better than Duke LeHump.

  Luke simply gave up and ignored the new name and twerk-off altogether. “Check on the dykes’ progress,” he told me.

  “What dykes?” Shoshanna asked, confused.

  “Mrs. C and Edith are decoding the notes,” I said, assuming she knew of the gals. Everybody else did.

  “Holy shitfire on a
hemorrhoid.” She laughed. “Those nut jobs make my mouth look clean! Love those girls.”

  Girls was pushing it, considering Mrs. C and Edith had to be in their seventies, but she did have a point. I cringed at the thought they would be here in a couple of days. Luke’s color had paled considerably and I guessed he was thinking the same thing I was.

  “I have the hotel plans,” he stated, all business—this was the part he could handle. “We’ll take Shoshanna through the employee corridors. We’ll use the service elevators and avoid crowds as much as possible.”

  “Good thinking.” Shoshanna nodded her head and kept bouncing. “Oh, Candy, have you ever had a Brazilian wax?”

  “Um . . .” How was it that half the stuff that flew out of her mouth rendered me speechless?

  “Yes.” Luke grinned. “She has.”

  The heat raced up my neck and landed on my cheeks, which I knew were now a flaming red. I was going to kill him and he’d just lost his blow job privileges.

  “Are you in the market for one?” Shoshanna inquired, oblivious to my embarrassed fury. “Because they’re doing them on level C. They’ll even do little hearts or airplanes.”

  Mute. I was mute. Nothing would come out. I shot Luke a look that implied if he said anything, I would pull my gun out of my purse and shoot him. He grinned and wisely stayed quiet.

  “No, I’m good,” I croaked, forcing words to come out.

  “I was thinking about getting one, but having the hair ripped off my vag when no one but me is gonna see it just seems like a waste,” she reasoned. “What about you, Luke?”

  “He probably should,” I said before he could decline. “I mean what if his pants fall down during the twerk-off? It would be nice if he was all spiffy and tidy.” I grinned evilly at him.

  “She’s got a point,” Shoshanna agreed.

  “There will be no twerking,” Luke ground out. “I don’t even know what the hell that means. I’m not doing any fucking pageant and I’m not getting my balls waxed. Period. End of story.”