The article went on to give tips to the ladies on how to use their tongue while lying on their stomach. They were all amazed at how explicit it was.
“Dude, check this out,” Gabe had said, reading the paragraph aloud, “From this position, you can easily lick that sensitive area between your man’s two amigos. Twirl your tongue around and hear him moan. Hey, Dusty, how was—”
Dusty had snatched the magazine away. “We’ll no longer talk about how or which.” His eyes had narrowed in warning. “And I expect you all to treat my wife with respect. That means, no teasing her.”
Magic made a zipping motion to his lips. “No one says nothing. You know how she is. She’ll be teasing us about reading women’s magazines during work.”
“Yeah, but can I look at that again?” Gabe had asked, motioning for the magazine. “Got to see which position I need to practice. Ange, if you’re missing some water adventures, there’s even one here for the bathtub with toys.”
“Bathtub?” Angel had mocked. “SEALs don’t need tubs to stand at attention.”
Angel sighed ruefully. He’d spoken too soon. Apparently, he was going to be standing at attention in a giant bathtub of salad. Worse, thinking about Mimi diving into all that salad and groping between his legs was making the codpiece very uncomfortable.
Like that damned article, he would have to stand very, very still or risk injuring his poor dick. And the fantasy of Mimi’s tongue, following the article’s twirling and sucking tips, was not helping one damned bit.
To distract himself, he changed to a more serious topic.
“Let’s go over the camera locations, the private party room upstairs and our perimeter layout,” he said. “I’m still not happy he won’t let us put a camera in there.”
Dusty shrugged. “Mr. Washington told us he and some good friends have a private gathering every year to discuss personal business. I asked a few questions. Your father said they don’t mingle much, just stay in that room and do their thing.”
“That’s odd, don’t you think?” Angel asked. “People don’t just throw a huge party like this and invite friends who don’t enjoy that sort of thing.”
Dusty shrugged again. “What can I say? He signs the checks. He can invite whoever he wants.”
“So, this threat on his cell phone, why did he think it’s something to worry about?” Angel had listened to the recording Magic had made of the message. They’d pulled some strings but tracking its origin only brought more mystery. Even though the disguised voice sounded American, the call came from somewhere in Eastern Europe, but when questioned, Washington couldn’t recall knowing anyone from that area. “I know I’m repeating, but I still think it’s a prank call. Or Washington’s keeping something from us.”
Dusty rubbed his jaw. “Still overthinking this, aren’t you? Washington wanted to make sure his annual party doesn’t get interrupted. He originally asked for some biker groups to help with security but your father recommended he hire us. You know we all agreed to take this on to get something on the resume, Ange.”
“It takes a while to get out of the soldier mode, bud,” Hex, who was leaning against the wall, said. “Nothing is black and white out here and there are no protocols to follow. Unless we get some government contracts, most of our jobs will be about satisfying the client, without caring about his motives. We can advise Mr. Washington but he’s never been out there fighting in a war zone. It’s not life and death to him. All he wants is a party to go smoothly without a problem.”
“Yeah, but he was the one who brought up the fact he was threatened with bodily harm,” Angel argued. “That’s what’s confusing me. If he’s concerned enough to want protection, he should be concerned enough to let us prepare total safeguards.”
“Point taken, dude,” Magic agreed, then took a swig of his cola before giving one of his trademark lazy smiles. “So, should we mount a camera on your codpiece so we could see everything happening inside the salad bowl? Just to make sure we cover every aspect, you understand.”
Angel grinned ruefully as his colleagues’ chuckles filled the air. Put that way, the whole damn thing sounded ridiculous. He put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll shut off my SEAL instincts if you keep your damn eyes off my crotch.”
Chapter Two
‡
Interference To move a chess piece between two attacking pieces, causing confusion.
The voice coming through the microphone was loud and obnoxious.
“Okay, everyone! The moment has come for the ultimate party fun, the Charity Salad Bowl Wrestling Match! Every dollar you spend betting on these lovely ladies here in the line up—step forward ladies, there you go, let the crowd see you—will be donated to charity. What’s more, the amount will be matched by Mr. Washington himself! So, the more you give, the more the charity will receive. Now use those tickets you bought at the entrance and pick one of these lovely contestants as your winner. Those of you who pick the right girl get the annual special keychain, courtesy of our Grand Master, Cutter Washington, himself. Let’s hear some cheers for our girls here!
There was a huge roar of approval from the men as they clapped and stomped their feet. Mari swallowed. It was nerve-wracking standing up on the dais and staring down at the huge above-ground pool-size tub filled with green vegetables. The audience, as she’d known, was mostly men, although there were women scattered here and there. Some were even cheering, waving their bandannas. Everyone was in their biker black, shiny buttons gleaming in the sun. Everyone was swigging beer and calling out their favorite numbers, ready for a good time as each woman was introduced on the stage.
“And this is Contestant Number 9, Mimi! Do you think Mimi is going to be the first to put her hand on Angel’s codpiece? Come on, fellas, she can’t hear you!”
Mari gave a small wave as she stepped forward. The man was a freaking cheerleader, urging the crowd to buy bets.
“Hey, Mimi, do something more than wave, baby,” he urged. “This is for charity. We’ve got to get them excited and buy your number!
Mari stared out at the crowd, then sighed in resignation. In for a penny, in for a pound. She turned her back to them and then did her best “Salt Shaker” butt shimmy again. The whole place roared like an earthquake.
“Holy Ass, mama! Number 9’s gonna get my vote!” A voice yelled out.
“Shake that honky tonk badonkadonk, mama! Left, right, left, right, left! Gimme her ticket number! I’ll buy one on her!”
“Mimi for the win!
Mari straightened and gazed straight into the unfriendly eyes of one of the Amazon blondes as she walked back into her place. She really had to watch out for that one. Like Carey Ann said, she was going to be gunning for her.
Was she really going to wrestle in that tub? She’d thought she would just roll around in there and hang back and let the others go at each other. But that was before she knew about the codpiece worth all that money. If she didn’t at least pretend to make a serious go at the target, people would notice, and what she didn’t want was to be noticed.
Well, too damn late now. She was Mimi, wild twerking sexy mama, as the announcer had just called her, and she had a target on her back for two big-breasted, blonde Amazons. Somehow, she also now had a partner in this crazy affair she’d gotten into and must attempt to get past all these women, without being killed, to get to the codpiece. Carey Ann running interference was going to help but she was sure there were going to be other partnerships among the group too. She was going to need luck on her side. She glanced sideways over at Carey Ann, who gave her a wink.
Standing beside her new friend was the other Amazon, who was coolly sizing her up. She was easily a head taller than Carey Ann. Mimi looked straight ahead. Correction. Lots of luck. Pot-loads of luck.
“And now, for our ladies out there!” The volume increased. “We haven’t forgotten about you at all! Here’s the man for our contestants to go after. Angel is our judge and our prize. What do you think of him? Can
I hear some approval?”
A figure strode out to her left. Screams, whistles and hoots floated up from the audience. Mari gulped as she studied the bare-chested man standing a few feet away.
Six-foot plus of pure muscle. Broad, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. The flat stomach, the tight jeans, encasing the butt and long legs. And baby-on-a-pogo-stick, there was the codpiece.
She could feel her eyes widening.
It was made of leather, with shiny things sewn on. On any other man, she would have laughed herself silly but on Angel, with his hair loose and standing half-naked, a slight scowl on his face, he looked primitive. The codpiece was extra big for entertainment value and the women in the crowd were yelling out some lewd comments on its size. On him, though, it fit just right.
Mari gulped at the thought.
The announcer laughed like a maniac. “Check him out, ladies. That codpiece is worth eight hundred dollars. Now, here are the rules. Angel is going to go into the bowl of salad on the other side. Our ladies on stage have to jump in from here and try to get to him over there. The first to reach him and go under to get that codpiece off him will win. Simple, isn’t it?
The crowd cheered some more.
“We’re going to establish some safety rules too.” The announcer put up his fingers as he went through them. “No biting. No scratching. We don’t want any blood drawn. Most important of all, you can’t hurt Angel. This is his first experience of our party and we don’t want to scare him off! Ladies, you can do anything else but play it safe for everybody, okay? The pool isn’t filled with too much water, just enough to slow your movements. The salad, well, you know that’s just going to turn into a slawfest by the time you’re done, right? Angel, are you ready?”
Angel turned and nodded. His eyes locked on Mari’s and his direct stare was purposeful, as if he was telling her she’d better be the one to get to him.
“Okay, Angel, get out there. To make it difficult for our contestants, you have to try to evade being capture like the military man you are, boy!”
Mari watched as Angel made his way to the opposite end and then, to the cheers and jeers, jumped in with his arms outstretched.
“Ready,” he called out.
“Go and get him ladies! When the bell rings, it means contest over! Get ready to rumble! One, two, three, jump!”
Someone pushed. Mari found herself sailing through the air, her legs kicking out like a long jumper. She landed with a soft thud on the cushion of green below, and then promptly sank. The lettuce and chopped greens surrounded her. There was squishy liquid underneath. Ugh.
She looked around, trying to gauge her position in the tub. Everywhere she looked, her opponents were charging in one direction. Sure enough, when she checked, she saw Angel in the far end, with the stuff reaching his midriff. She struck out towards him, pushing through the stalks and leaves. As the announcer had warned, the water was just deep enough to slow her gait.
Suddenly, someone pulled her by the hair and she was flung backward. Gasping, she righted herself and went after the blonde who had thrown her out of the way. A streak of red and pink jumped on her attacker. It was Carey Ann, doing her job. Mari waded past them as they wrestled for dominance.
“Heeeyahhhhh!”
A dead weight landed on top of Mari and she sunk below the vegetables like a rock. Before she could recover, a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her back into the air for a few seconds, and wham! She was slammed back into the leafy mush.
Her head dunked inside the salad mix, she could hear the muffled cheers of the spectators. Reaching down, she did a handstand and using her legs, flipped backwards where she thought her enemy’s head was. It was a slow-motion forward handstand roll, something she was quite good at, but probably looked incredibly clumsy amid a ton of tossed veggies. It didn’t matter. She found her target and using her forward momentum, she toppled her attacker, who went under.
Back on her feet, Mari grabbed on to the pair of long legs which were cycling like a big bug as their owner tried to right herself. She needed to slow her opponent down.
“Carey Ann!” she yelled.
“Got your back!” Carey Ann appeared out of nowhere and took over, her arms going around each of the thighs sticking up. Her arm muscles bulged, showing her strength. “Go!”
Mari released her prisoner and advanced another few yards. She easily out-maneuvered another woman, knocking her sideways, as she got used to moving in the sludge of watery leafs that were slowly turning into gunky slaw as the stuff mixed together. The cheers were deafening now.
“Number Nine! Number Nine!”
The announcer was giving a running commentary of all the action around her.
“Number Three is down and out! Oh! Nice move, Number Five, climbing over Number Six! Hey, hey, Number Seven is still trying to free herself from Number Eight. Look at her gripping those nice strong thighs. I’d hate to wrestle with Number Seven, guys. Oh, oh, Number Ten is not far behind Number Nine, Those long arms will catch up soon and Number Nine’s going to be in trouble for sure!”
“Number Ten! Number Ten!” chanted the crowd.
“Fickle people,” muttered Mari, glancing backward quickly.
Oh shit, it was the throat-slashing Amazon and she wasn’t racing Mari to the Angel. She was gunning for her.
Mari shot forward, heading as fast as she could toward the man ahead. Twenty feet? Maybe—
Nope, not even a maybe. An arm slid across Mari’s neck. Quickly, she ducked back under the mush, slipping from its grasp. She turned and shoved Amazon’s midriff hard. Then, she stood up and kicked off towards Angel.
“Oh, no, you don’t! You’re dead meat!” The blonde woman screamed out and leaped out of the salad, like some avenging monster, and piled on top of Mari.
Arms and legs hugged her like a bear and Mari rolled, trying to dislodge the woman on top of her. The bigger woman managed to stand up, and still hanging on to Mari with her arms, she threw her sideways and over her back like a professional wrestler. Now she was ahead and marching like the Green Giant toward Angel.
From where she was, Mari caught sight of Carey Ann in a tackle with the other Amazon. No help from there. She was on her own.
She gave chase, plodding through the whole mess. Her legs were shorter but she’d discovered that if she stopped walking and just bounced her feet against the bottom of the tub, each step became bigger.
The whole crowd was into it by now, yelling out her and the Amazon’s numbers. They were five or six feet away from the waiting Angel before Mari decided to take a chance. Using all the strength she could muster, she launched forward, arms stretched out. Somehow she landed ahead of the race. Barely.
Her opponent yelled out in anger and attacked. Mari tried to block but was unable to twist away fast enough. She found a hand at her throat and down under she went. Instinctively, she bear-hugged the taller woman, preventing her from reaching their goal. Long legs kicked her, connecting with her thigh. Ow!
Hands reached down, tearing at Mari’s limbs, trying to stop her progress. They caught the back of her thighs and tipped her backwards through the gunk.
Mari twisted about desperately, groping through the green shadows, thrashing her feet to try to escape. Her hands slammed against flesh before she was pulled backwards again.
Suddenly she could see another pair of legs. Her brain immediately registered the jeans. One leg moved toward her tantalizingly but her hand couldn’t quite reach it. She needed to get free.
She surfaced, took a big gulp of air, then pivoted with her free leg so she could face the Amazon. She was truly pissed off now. No way was she going to let the woman’s longer arms get the prize without a fight. The other woman snarled a smile and lifted Mari’s imprisoned leg and pushed forward, intending to tip her again.
Hell, if the stupid woman was going to try that trick again, she might as well defend herself like before. This time, Mari was ready and her backward flip was m
ore controlled. She let her free leg move through the air in an arc. Her hands encountered the tub floor and she bounced once before she hit the male body standing close by, Immediately, she wrapped her legs around him and a pair of hands steadied her.
Could one drown in a tub of salad dressing? She opened her mouth, looking for air, and…ugh…stuff tumbled inside. Apparently, she was going to die in a giant salad tub, killed by a wrathful Amazon.
But not. Without. The damned. Codpiece.
She realized her legs must be wrapped around the guy because her head was between his legs. There were muffled screams above her and she fought another pair of hands reaching down, grasping her arms, pulling, tugging. She was trapped between the other two colliding bodies and her face smashed into—the codpiece.
Carey Ann’s instructions screamed in her head. Mari opened her mouth, trying to find a way to loosen the damn thing. Suddenly the jean-clad legs became very still, even as the grip holding her securely tightened.
Ignoring the screams above her and the pain radiating from her arms, Mari chewed here and there and then, finally, her teeth clammed down on a corner and she shook her head hard, tugging the codpiece loose.
Then, her hands were suddenly freed. She moved them to her mouth, refusing to contemplate the fact that she was groping the man’s privates while her legs were wrapped around his shoulders. Which meant his head was between her…never mind, Mari, just loosen this thing.
Her fingers frantically searched, moving under the codpiece to get the last obstinate fastening. She felt a bulge, the long hard length giving her an idea what Angel looked like….
No.
Don’t think about that!
She worked her fingers inside, over the hard ridge and under. She squirmed one finger over several buttons, looking for the obstinate one holding her prize. The bulge moved. Ooops. She wriggled her finger under and finally, the codpiece came off. She hung on to it with her mouth.
Death by salad…she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see. But she had the damn codpiece in her mouth.
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