by Olivia Devon
“Right,” said Wyatt. “I know.”
“So what’s the goal?” said Jack. “Why all the effort for such a fruitless endeavor?”
“Exactly,” said Wyatt. “Why indeed?”
“You have ideas,” said Jack, more statement than question.
“I do. At this point, with this new information, I’m a little more concerned. Because someone’s going through a lot of trouble to use Daisy to keep us busy.”
“Keep us distracted, you mean,” said Jack.
“Yes. And that means we’re missing something.”
“What?”
“That’s what troubles me.” Wyatt glanced back over at the women, caught Jinx’s curious expression and smiled at her, waving his hand to suggest everything was okay, that he’d be wrapping this conversation up in just a minute. “I’ll be over there first thing in the morning,” he continued. “Just need to get some sleep first. In the meantime, we’ve got Malcolm watching the place. She won’t come back, but still. Better safe-”
“Agreed,” said Jack.
“Great. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. I have a few ideas I want to explore. I’ll let you know what, if anything, pans out.”
“Good.”
“Hey Jack?” said Wyatt.
“Yes?”
“Have fun with Kristie. Didn’t think you went for the giggly type, but what the fuck do I know?”
“Fuck off buddy,” Jack growled, but Wyatt could hear the undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “Fuck right off.”
“Will do boss.” Wyatt grinned, hung up and crossed back to the women, took Aiko’s glass of milk from her, and drained the contents.
“Hey!”
“So what now?” asked Jinx, ignoring her sister’s grumbles about chocolate milk.
“Bed.” Wyatt wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the empty glass in the kitchen sink. “Nothing more to do now, and we need sleep. Tomorrow we’ll pay a visit to Daisy’s little crash pad and see what we can find out. She’s probably cleared out. Obviously she knows we’re on to her. But she’s also a mess, and it sounds like she left one in that apartment. So we might catch a break sifting through her crap.”
“Not if her mysterious benefactor has cleaned up after her,” said Aiko.
Wyatt shrugged. “Might’ve. We’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Great,” Aiko said, gathering her coat and purse. “Then I’m off to bed. Try to keep the sexcapades to a dull roar, you two. I’m tired.”
“I thought we were getting the place to ourselves tonight!” Wyatt called after her.
“Sorry,” Aiko called back. “Corporate espionage can be a real roller coaster. You’re gonna have to roll with the punches.”
“Shhh,” Jinx whispered putting a finger to her lips. “Not so loud. You’ll wake the pups, and we’ll never get back to sleep.”
Aiko’s bedroom door closed and Wyatt turned to Jinx, pulling her in close for a long deep kiss.
“We need sleep,” he said. “But first, sexcapades.” Tucking one arm behind her back, he slipped the other behind her knees and began to lift her.
“Put me down!” she screeched. “Your knee you idiot!”
Wyatt kept lifting. “Shhhh,” he said. “You’ll wake the dogs. And forget about my dumb knee. My knee’s fine.” He’d lifted her halfway up his chest when pain splintered through his shoulder, causing him to buckle forward.
Jinx wriggled from his arms and pushed him back against a kitchen barstool.
“Your knee might be fine for right now, but that’s because you’re overcompensating again.” She rubbed her palms together vigorously, then applied them to his shoulder, kneading the muscle with her fingers. “You’re definitely seeing my chiropractor tomorrow.”
“I gotta go do the Daisy thing.”
“We,” Jinx corrected him. “I’m going with you, after we get you in to see Dr. Shelley. Don’t even think about arguing.”
“Whatever. You’re not the boss of me.”
“Wyatt…”
“Alright, alright, we’ll see.”
They skipped the sexcapades, on account of the shoulder, and went straight to spooning, their bodies nesting together so easily that Wyatt sighed with contentment, his breath warming the back of Jinx’s neck and sending a tendril of hair floating over her cheek.
“This is nice,” he said. “I could lay just like this forever I think. Perfectly happy.”
A high-pitched whine sounded from the other side of Jinx’s bedroom door.
“Shit.” Jinx tensed in his arms, and Wyatt held her tighter. “We woke the dogs.”
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered in her ear. “Maybe they’ll go back to bed.”
Four puppy voices collaborated in a desperate refrain so plaintive and pathetic, and so obviously designed to elicit sympathy that Wyatt had to hold his breath to keep from busting out loud with laughter.
“Don’t you dare,” Jinx warned. “If they hear you, that’s it. They’ll be sleeping with us tonight.”
Wyatt tucked his face into the crook of her neck, choking on laughter as the dogs began to scratch at the door.
“Maybe they could—” he began.
“No.”
“For just a little—”
“No.”
“But what if they promise to be good?”
“Oh my God.”
Wyatt flipped Jinx over to face him, puffed out his lower lip and attempted a full on pout.
“Not gonna work, cowboy.” Jinx stared him down.
As if sensing they had an ally on the inside, the pups picked up their song again, scratching at the door so that it thumped in the frame, a gentle percussion accompaniment to the keening.
Wyatt puffed his lip out further and joined the dogs in their whimpering chorus.
Jinx curled her lips in disgust. “Are you seriously making that sound right now?”
Wyatt wagged his head.
“Ugh. That is truly disgusting. Stop it.”
Wyatt shook his head.
“Jesus!” Jinx threw the blankets from her legs, rose from the bed, and stalked to the door. “Fine! I’ll let them in. Just stop. Oh my God, if you ever want to have sex with me again, stop.”
He stopped. Jinx opened the door, and the dogs came flying through, leaping up into Wyatt’s lap and covering him in kisses.
Jinx scooped Clyde up and delivered him to the bed with the others.
“Rules,” she said, standing over them, finger raised like a teacher chastising a class of naughty children. “No snoring. No slobbering. No barking in your sleep. Absolutely. No. Farting.”
Wyatt nodded, and the dogs wagged their tails.
“Mom says be good guys. Okay? This is a special treat. We gotta show Mom we can be good, or she’ll never let us have a sleepover again.”
Jinx rubbed her hands over her face and sighed, mumbling to herself. She settled back into bed, gingerly navigating the maze of limbs - both man and beast - that now occupied the better part of her California King mattress.
Wyatt caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, his face returning to nuzzle the same spot at the base of her neck.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his tone so sweet, so earnest, that she felt her chest clench a little.
“You’re welcome,” she said, reaching back to ruffle his hair affectionately. He moaned softly, the sound a gentle rumble against her back, and she felt his limbs begin to relax around her. Within seconds his breathing slowed to a steady pace, and she realized with some irritation that he was already asleep.
Gotta be a SEAL thing. Sleep when you can, where you can. Must be nice.
The dog mound at her feet began to twitch. A tail thumped ceaselessly at the other end of the bed, and at her knee, Clyde began to snore. She peered down at him. His mouth was open, his head lolling across one of his wheels in a contortion that looked terribly uncomfortable if not impossible. His whole body shook with each intake of air and as he exhaled, tiny bubbles of
snot blossomed from his nose.
Ew.
Then she heard it. A faint reedy whistle, like air being let slowly from a balloon, followed by more noises. Distinctive. Unmistakable. A sort of dampish “poot, poot, pooooooot.”
Her eyes popped wide.
Was that Wyatt? Or the dogs?
Does it fucking matter?
That’s when the smell hit her. Like hot sick and rotten eggs.
Oh my God. I’m so fucking outta here.
Five minutes later she was happily interred in the guest room with a cup of chamomile tea, a sleeping pill, and the last three Thin Mints left over from her sister’s not-so-secret Girl Scout Cookie stash.
“Girls rule. Boys drool,” she whispered to the blissfully quiet room.
No truer words had ever been spoken.
Chapter Thirteen
Wyatt slept well. Buried to the neck in a puppy pile of vibrating, fur covered, heat-seeking missiles. He’d slept deeply. Soundly. Without the barest hint of his all-too frequent nightmares to wake him.
“One of the pack” he mumbled, peeling his eyes open, and shrugging his arms wide for a very satisfying stretch. “Safety in numbers, huh fellas?”
Clyde scooted over to him, bedspread clumping up under one wheel, and licked his cheek.
“You sleep well too, buddy?” Wyatt untangled the wheel, lifted Clyde against his chest, and rose just as the bedroom door opened.
Jinx stood in the doorway, a short pink satin bathrobe draped loosely over her sexy frame, a steaming cup of coffee in her outstretched hand.
“Is that for us?” asked Wyatt.
She chuckled softly, and the sound sent a tickle up his spine, made him feel warm and happy all over.
“The coffee is for you.” Jinx crossed to him. “This guy gets kibble and water and vitamins.” She handed Wyatt the mug and took Clyde from his arms, placing the dog on the ground with a gentle pat on his rump to set him on his way out the door. “Breakfast is up, come on.”
Wyatt pulled on his jeans, then followed Jinx down the hall, the rest of the dogs trailing behind them, the smell of bacon drawing him like a hook in his belly.
“Holy shit,” he said when his eyes beheld the feast at the kitchen counter.
“I know right?” said Aiko, dancing around her sister to load her empty plate with food. “Look. She made bacon and sausage. Scones, muffins, fruit salad, and stuffed French toast.” Aiko picked a sausage up and popped it into her mouth. “She hardly ever makes a spread like this. Somebody got sweetdicked last night for sure.”
“You’re so vulgar. Shut up.” Jinx pushed her sister away, stole her plate of food, and handed it to Wyatt.
“Hey!”
“Here.” Jinx handed her a new, empty plate. “Make another.”
Wyatt looked at his plate, overflowing with yumminess, and back at Jinx. “You made all of this for me? Wow.” He placed his palm over his heart. “You really care.”
“Stop talking. Just eat.” Jinx turned her back on them, opened a cabinet, retrieved a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Now now, be nice. C’mon, I want to know. Did I—” Wyatt turned to Aiko. “What was that you said? I sweet—”
“Sweetdicked. Verb. To mesmerize, charm and entrance a woman, through the expert implementation of a sweet, skillful dicking.”
“Yeah.” Wyatt grinned broadly. “I think I might’ve.”
Jinx’s cheeks flushed several shades darker then her robe. Her eyes darted back and forth from Wyatt to her sister and back again.
“You know what? Enjoy your breakfast, I’m off to the shower. I can’t take you two right now.”
Sweetdicked. WTF? Jinx thought as she disrobed and stepped into her shower.
She was so annoyed. Positively itching with irritation. Wyatt was awesome. He was fun, loved her dogs, was super good-looking, and was great in bed. Really great in bed. Sure, the teasing ramped up when he and Aiko were around each other, but Jinx was hardly a prude about sex. Why did she find it so aggravating?
When it came to Wyatt she seemed capable of only two emotional settings: extreme horniness or extreme exasperation. She was either scowling at the man or jumping his bones.
Or melting, she thought. Melting into a puddle of goo whenever he’s sweet to the dogs, or nuzzling his face in my neck.
“Ugh,” she groaned aloud. “Shake it off you psycho.”
Jinx grabbed the shampoo from the tiled shelf, squirted a dollop in her palm and began sudsing her hair. Soapy water was running down over her eyes when she heard a knock on the shower door.
“Hey there.” Wyatt grinned at her sheepishly, his face pressed up against the glass. “Want company?”
“Not particularly,” she said. “This shower isn’t exactly built to a SEAL’s proportions.”
“What if I promise to scrub your back?” asked Wyatt.
Jinx sighed and pushed open the shower door. “Fine, come in.”
Wyatt peeled off his jeans so fast his feet tangled in the cuffs, and he tipped forward, grabbing the edge of the shower for balance. Jinx bit back a laugh and held out her hand.
“God you’re hopeless.”
“I know right?” He grinned, and stepped into the shower behind her. “Gonna need me a set of wheels like Clyde pretty soon.”
“Oh that reminds me,” she said. “I called Dr. Shelley before you woke. You have an appointment this afternoon. We can head over there before we go to Daisy’s.”
“Aw,” said Wyatt his hands skimming down over the wet skin of her back, sending little shivers up her spine. “That was sweet of you. Thanks.”
“Hardly,” she said. “It needed to be done. You can’t work if you’re in pain.”
“Yeah, but it was still sweet of you.” He dipped his head and kissed her on the side of the neck. “You’re kind of a natural caretaker aren’t you? You made me breakfast, got me a doctor’s appointment, and now you’re making sure I take my bath.” Wyatt ran his hands up her soapy shoulders, his fingers playing over the hair on the back of her neck. “I like it.”
She tensed, but he immediately sensed the knot in her neck, and began to massage. “All right,” he said. “What did I do now?”
“Nothing. You didn’t do anything.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You just turned into a brick. You did it in the kitchen too. I’m pissing you off.”
“It’s nothing.” Jinx shrugged out from under his hands and stepped away, into the shower spray. She grabbed a bottle of body wash and tossed it at him. “Don’t forget behind the ears,” she said.
Wyatt caught the bottle, and looked at the label.
“Mango coconut?” He scrunched up his nose.
“It’s the least girly thing I have,” said Jinx. “So use it, or be disgusting. Unless you prefer lilac rose?”
“Mango coconut it is.” Wyatt squeezed the bottle and body wash squelched into his palm.
Jinx busied herself with her hair, slicking conditioner through her ends, and trying hard not to gawk as Wyatt soaped his entire body. He took his time, rubbing giant fistfuls of body wash between his palms until they frothed, then skimming the suds across his pecs, over washboard abs, and finally to his thighs…and between. She couldn’t help peeking when he got to between. He spent a lot of time there. Scrubbing. Soaping. She looked away, combed her fingers through her hair. It was important to get the conditioner really worked into those split ends, really important…. she stole another glance. Still scrubbing. Still soaping. Still stroking—wait. Stroking?
Wyatt’s cock lay heavy and firm between those powerful thighs. Half hard, and straining in her general direction. Jinx stopped finger combing her hair, her gaze lifting to meet his.
“You’re allowed to look,” he said. “I figure it’s only fair. Ya know, since we’re both naked, in this small enclosed space. Wet and soapy and naked.”
“You said naked twice.” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Well I’m particularly fond of that bit. Of
naked bits. Your naked bits in particular. I’m just saying you’re welcome to perv on me as long as you like. God knows I’m doing the same.”
“Perv?” Jinx rolled her eyes. Rolled them a little too hard.
“Okay.” Wyatt sighed. “You gonna tell me what’s bugging you, or am I gonna have to sweetdick it out of you?”
Jinx scoffed. “I told you, it’s nothing.”
“And I’m calling foul. Was it the teasing? Too much? I can lay off. Aiko and I get to goofing too much sometimes. It annoys Jack too.”
“No.” Jinx sighed and reached for her shaving cream and razor. “I mean it was annoying, yes. But just ignore me. I do usually have a sense of humor. I swear. ”
“Well sure,” he said. “But everybody has their limits, and you’re under a lot of stress right now. This thing with the club, that can’t be fun for you.”
“No it’s not,” she admitted. “I’ll be glad when it’s over. But that’s not really a good excuse for being so bitchy.”
“Then what is?”
She shrugged and squeezed past him, pushing him to the side with her hip so that she could place one foot up on the tiled shower bench. He responded to her cues, a perfect, effortless choreography of moments that suggested they’d been doing this for years. Two well-acquainted lovers, showering together, and despite her mood, still talking easily, sharing an intimate harmony.
Her shoulders tensed again, so she stretched her neck, the joints popping in protest.
“That. Right there,” said Wyatt. “What was that?”
“What?” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she smeared shaving cream down each calf.
“You did it again.” Wyatt rinsed the last of the suds from his skin and grabbed the shampoo. “I could literally see your shoulders turn to cement. What was going on in your head when that happened?”
“Stop fishing.” she said, picking up her razor, she turned back to shaving. “I just didn’t sleep well so I’m a little stiff.”
“Humor me. What were you thinking?”