Janey
“Are you nuts?”
My eyes snap to JD, who, in turn, is glaring at Special Agent Kramer.
To her credit, Agent Kramer doesn’t seem in the least intimidated by his outburst.
“Not in the least,” she returns calmly. “In fact, it’s probably safest for her to simply go about her business as planned. It would definitely draw attention if she suddenly didn’t show up tomorrow.”
The she they’re talking about is me. Agent Kramer has asked me to return to the rodeo grounds tomorrow, act as I normally would, but with my senses on full alert. She suggested I was their best possible option for eyes and ears on the inside, without raising suspicion.
“As of tomorrow, when the fair and auction open up to the public, we’ll have agents inside as well, but they won’t be able to get into the livestock area without risking detection,” the agent continues. “There’s no time to get one of our own set up on the inside.”
She turns to me with a kind smile. “You’ll be wearing a wire so we can hear what goes on at any moment, and we’ll be close by at all times in case of an emergency.”
“I’ll do it.”
This time JD’s angry scowl lands on me.
“Like hell.”
Now, that gets my hackles up.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s flattering he cares enough to be protective, but last time I checked, I was an independent, grown-ass woman. I’ve long passed the age where I let anyone make decisions for me.
“Not your call to make,” I tell him sharply.
“This isn’t your business, Janey,” he returns. “Drug smuggling is way out of your wheelhouse.”
“That may well be, but this is more than that, it’s animal abuse, which makes it very much my business.”
I see a muscle ticking in his jaw as he tries to stare me down with those dark eyes, swirling with a different kind of heat.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Sheriff Ewing, who returned shortly after the FBI agent got here, addresses JD. “I have a couple of guys handling security at the livestock pens who’ll be able to keep an eye on her as well.”
“Hey, guys, stop talking about me like I’m not even here,” I cut in, annoyed. “I’m not some wilting flower. A lot of these almost two-hundred pounds you see are muscle, earned by wrestling large animals—some dangerous—every damn day of my life. I make my own decisions and can do my own talking, thank you very much.”
There’s an abrupt silence after my outburst, and I make sure to look each of them in the eye, starting with JD, and ending with Agent Kramer, who at least looks mildly amused.
“Fine,” JD is the first to speak. “I’ll be your assistant for the next few days.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Agent Kramer starts, but I interrupt.
“It’s actually not a bad idea at all,” I suggest, before explaining. “He was helping me almost all day today. I don’t think anyone would think anything of it if he showed up with me again tomorrow. You’d have two pairs of eyes and ears on the inside.”
It might also give him some peace of mind, and I would feel a little less anxious with someone I trust beside me, but I’m not about to admit to that after my rant about independence.
“We’ll have to wire you as well,” the agent concedes.
“I’m fine with that, Agent Kramer.”
JD’s answer still carries a bit of an edge, but he’ll get over it.
“The name is Stephanie,” she offers. “If we’re going to do this, you two have to be careful what you say to each other. Someone could overhear, so stay away from any mention of an investigation or the FBI. Get used to calling me by my first name, it’s safer.”
She shoves her chair back from the table and gets to her feet.
“We should get going,” she directs at the sheriff. “It’s already getting late and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover yet.”
Ewing stands up as well. “What time were you planning on heading over to the grounds tomorrow?” he asks me.
“Around eight thirty or so? That way I can catch Frankie when she gets in.”
“Frankie?”
“My assistant,” I clarify for the agent.
“I thought that was Logan,” she returns.
“He works during the summer months. He’s a veterinary student. Frankie is my full-time assistant.”
“Gotcha,” Stephanie confirms as she leads the way to the front door. “In that case, I’ll be here at seven with our tech guy to get you miked, and we can be out of here before she arrives. We need to keep this investigation quiet. You two can’t share any of this information.”
“Of course,” I agree.
I follow them out with JD close on my heels. They’re about to get into the dark SUV they both arrived in when Stephanie swings around.
“Oh, you mentioned something about taking samples from the dead cow, do you still have those?”
“They’re still in my truck, let me grab my keys.”
I dart inside and grab my keys off the hall table. The vials of fluids I took are still in the cooler bag in the back of my truck. With everything going on, I’d almost forgotten about them.
I hand them to the agent.
“I was going to get them tested.”
“We can bypass a lab,” she says, heading to the back of the SUV and popping the tailgate. “I have a portable chemical analysis device in my kit.”
The back of her SUV is outfitted with an impressive storage system, holding a large number of drawers in all sizes. I’m a little jealous. The twenty-dollar plastic storage drawers, I thought I was so clever to pick up for the back of my truck, suddenly seem inadequate.
The portable spectrometer she pulls from one of the drawers consists of two devices. Both fit in your hand. One is a scanner the size of a deck of cards, and the display monitor looks more like a fat cell phone.
“Did you label them?”
“I did.”
She opens the cooler bag and pulls out one of the vials, holding the scanner against it. Within seconds the results display on the small monitor.
“Positive for cocaine,” Stephanie shares.
Even though it’s not really a surprise, the confirmation still sends shivers down my spine.
JD
“I’m gonna stay here.”
“All right.”
I should’ve known Pa wouldn’t question me or be surprised. He probably already expected as much, even though he wasn’t aware of the circumstances. Now he is.
“In case it wasn’t clear, I’ve been asked not to share what I know,” I tell him. “I’m telling you so at least someone knows where I am and why.”
Plus, my father isn’t a talker on the best of days. He’ll take a secret to the grave.
“I figured,” he replies. “Look out for her.”
“You know I will.”
I get a grunt in response before he ends the call.
Sliding my phone in my pocket, I glance through the curtains inside, where I can see Janey putzing around her kitchen. After the sheriff and Agent Kramer left, I told Janey I had to make a quick call and would be right in. We haven’t had a chance to discuss arrangements, but there’s no way I’m going home tonight. I’m just not sure how to best convey that without pissing her off again.
She swings around when I enter. As much as she’s managed to appear pretty cool and collected, I can tell this situation has her freaked out. She’s hypervigilant, her senses seem on high alert, and a nervous energy comes off her in waves. I’m thinking maybe reality is finally starting to set in.
I kick off my boots and walk right up to her, taking her in my arms. Her body feels rigid.
“Are you heading out?” Even her voice has a higher than normal pitch.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
She leans back slightly to examine my facial expression.
“No?”
I guess I should be more clear.
“I’ll need to run a load of laundry though. Don’t wanna be wearing the same dirty clothes tomorrow.”
No sooner are the words out of my mouth when all the tension seems to drain from her body, and she drops her head against my shoulder.
“You’re staying here,” she mumbles by way of confirmation.
“Yep.”
There’s no objection from her, which only proves she’s more shaken than she cares to let on. Good. I’d rather have her on her toes and cautious tomorrow than cocky and reckless.
But for tonight, I want her to feel safe, relaxed, and get a decent night’s rest. It’s been a long-ass day.
I drop a kiss on her forehead and release her from my hold.
“Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’m just going to throw my stuff in the washer. Want me to toss something of yours in?”
“I can do it,” she offers.
“I’ve got it.”
She’s still standing in the kitchen, looking a little forlorn when I get back with the laundry basket from the bathroom.
“Go to bed, Janey,” I tell her as I walk by. “You’re swaying on your feet.”
Her laundry is right off the kitchen and I dump the entire contents of the basket in the washer. I hope she’s not too fussy about separating stuff. I find a setting I hope is enough to get rid of the caked-on gunk from my jeans, but not too much so it cooks Janey’s delicates. The display says it’ll be forty minutes.
Janey’s gone when I walk into the kitchen, but Ginger is standing by the door, whining softly. I shove my feet back in my boots and take her out for a quick pee. As soon as we get back inside, she heads back to her bed and curls up.
In the sink, I find a couple of dirty dishes left from dinner I quickly wash up and put away. Then I grab a cold slice from the leftover pizza Janey put in the fridge, settle in on the couch with my feet up on her coffee table, and flip on the TV to an all-day news channel with the volume turned way down.
Waiting for the washer to run through its cycle, I must’ve dozed off at some point. The machine’s soft buzzer wakes me up. It takes me a moment to clue in where I am, and what that sound signifies. I stretch, work out the crick I got in my neck, and go check on the laundry. After switching the load from the washer to the dryer, I walk through the house, turning off the TV and the lights. Then I make sure the doors are locked before I head to the bathroom.
On the counter, Janey left me a brand-new toothbrush.
I wasn’t sure where I’d end up for the night; on the couch or in her bed. Given the circumstances, the couch seemed the more appropriate choice, even though that wouldn’t have been my preference. Seeing that toothbrush sitting on the counter tells me that despite being dead on her feet, Janey was thinking about me when she hit the sack. I’m going to take it as a sign, so after I brush and do my business, I turn toward the bedroom instead of the living room.
She’s on her side facing the door when I walk in. Her eyes are open.
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
“I wish,” she returns in a soft voice. “My mind won’t shut up.”
“I can help with that,” I offer.
“Would you?”
She won’t have to ask twice. Hell, she didn’t have to ask at all. I’m already pulling my shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor. My hands stop on the waistband of my sweatpants. My boxer briefs are currently tumbling in the dryer so I went commando. I’d better leave these on for now.
“Don’t stop. Take it off,” Janey says, pushing herself up on an elbow in bed. “All of it.”
My cock jumps free the moment I shove my sweats down my hips. I was already at half-mast just walking into her bedroom, but it didn’t take much to get me rock-hard. When I kick off my sweats and straighten up, I find her eyes on me, taking in every inch. It almost feels like a caress and I instinctively wrap a fist around my length, stroking slowly.
“Jesus,” she mutters.
Then she sits up, the covers falling down to her waist and her dark hair draping over her naked shoulders. The slopes of her heavy breasts look pale in the moonlight, their tight peaks dark in contrast.
Jesus, indeed.
I already have a knee on the mattress when she flips aside the covers, revealing all of herself as she leans back against the pillows. My mouth waters at the lush curves softening the firm muscles underneath. Beautiful. There is nothing fragile about this woman, and it’s the strength and courage in the offer of her glorious body that has me falling for her even deeper.
If I could find adequate words, I’d tell her everything I’m feeling and thinking, but I’d rather show her. Grabbing an ankle in each of my hands, I lift and spread her legs wide open, and let my eyes, hands, and mouth do the talking. Her skin is so soft under the rough calluses on my hands as I touch her reverently, brushing a fingertip through the slick folds when I find her trimmed curls.
Bending down, I inhale her essence as I nip at the inside of her thigh, testing the resilience of her flesh between my teeth. Her responding hiss stokes the fire in my belly.
I want to lap her up, eat her out, and make her come with my mouth over and over. But this isn’t about what I want, this is about what she needs, so I make do with a few strokes of my tongue before I continue my way up her body.
Her hands explore unapologetically in return. Her nails raking along my back as I carefully roll a nipple between my teeth.
“Please…” she whimpers, reaching down to dig her fingers into the globes of my ass.
The crown of my cock butts against her slick folds, and I groan softly as I lift my hips. I had the presence of mind to pack a condom in my wallet, but left it sitting on the hall table by the front door.
“Under my pillow,” Janey shares, a gleam in her blue eyes as I shove my hand underneath and come up with a foil wrapper.
She’d clearly been more prepared than I was. It takes me a few seconds to roll on the condom and resume my position between her thighs. Then I kiss her, deep and slow.
“Please…” she repeats against my lips, her hold on my ass a bit firmer now.
She feels hot and tight as I sink into her. My eyes almost roll back in my head when I feel her entire body clamp down on me. Her legs wrap around my hips and her hands on my ass push me deeper. I try to be gentle, but she’s strong, and when she encourages me to go hard, I give in.
Sweat is running down my face and my heart is beating out of control, as I follow the pace she sets. At some point I slip out, sit up on my knees, and lift her legs in the air, before plunging back in. She feels every inch of me as I piston inside her in this position.
Her body shakes with the force of her orgasm, and when I follow moments later, I don’t fare much better.
My heart rate is still coming down, and my knees are still weak when I return to bed after getting rid of the condom. I brought a wet washcloth for Janey, but she’s already curled up on her side, fast asleep.
Discarding the washcloth, I slip between the covers and curl my body around hers.
It’s the last thing I remember.