Olson turns around and places the requested items in the backpack.
"Now some fresh batteries," I prompt.
He frowns. "They don’t have electricity in there?" He knows as well as I do that my battery pack has an a/c adapter. All I needed to do was plug it in and it’d be good to go again pretty quickly. Kinda like my sex drive, but I digress.
"They do. But not much brain power."
"Great. Idiots with guns."
"Is there any other kind?"
"Harper, any chance you bring these tendencies out in people?" He asks this in all seriousness. "I mean, there was that actor guy, and then that library lady, and now a cult …"
"I know. At least religion used to be safe from me. Lord knows, the Catholic church tossed me out on my ass years ago."
He chuckles. "Be careful. You’re the best education I’ve ever had."
"Hell, I know that, Jims. They don’t teach you a fuckin’ thing in film school." I am ready to go back, but it sure would be nice to take a weapon or two with me. "Hey, we still carry the Capstun?"
"Hurry up over there!" Shit-for-brains calls out.
"One second!" I reply, resisting giving him the finger.
"The pepper spray?"
I roll my eyes. "Just announce it out loud, kid."
"Shit! Sorry, boss." He looks like he might cry.
"It’s okay, Olson. Just slip it in the pocket of your jacket."
He does, but frowns. "Why my jacket?"
"Because Kels is cold." I hold out my hand for the bomber jacket. He bought one exactly like mine after we started working together. He’s a sweet kid.
"Tell her ‘hi’ for me."
I take the coat and fold it over my arm. I gotta remember to palm the pepper spray out of the pocket before they search it. If they’re bright enough to think to do that. "I will, Jims. You just watch your back out here. And no giving interviews. We cover the news, we don’t make it."
We look at each other for a long moment and then burst into laughter. "Yeah, right, Harper. Kick some ass."
"Will do, Olson. See ya in a few." I turn around to face the dipshit. Something in my gut tells me to get back to Kels and get back now. I move quickly and walk right past him to the gate. I look back at the moron who just now seems to register that I’m walking away from him. "You coming?" I quirk my brow at him. "Or would you rather take your chances with the cops?"
He juts out his stupid little jaw and motions with his gun. Great conversationalists, these guys. As I move back inside the compound, I can see that the women and children are being moved to a barn behind the house. God, I hope the cops are getting this from their vantage point. Climbing the steps to the building where they are keeping Kels, I hear the rotors of a helicopter and know at least the National Guard must have that information now.
Standing outside the door to our current accommodations, I try to wait patiently for dumbass to get the door open but he can’t seem to handle the gun and the keys at the same time. I could take the gun away from him, but that would only cause trouble. So, I snatch the keys instead.
"Stupid son of a bitch," I mumble as I open the door, dropping the keys to the floor outside the door. I step inside and close the door behind me. I’m not inviting him in. "Hi, Honey, I’m home," I call out.
I put my bag down and lift my head to find Kels with my Twinkie, licking the filling from … Oh God! What I wouldn’t give to be a little yellow sponge cake.
I hear the key in the lock. Instinctively, I know Harper is back. I can feel it, feel her. Given my current state, I have two choices: admit that I was worried about … eh … without her, or torture my partner. I know she’ll forgive me for torturing her; I would never forgive myself for admitting the other.
I pick up the Twinkies, remembering her comment about licking out the cream. I open the package and wait until I’m sure we’re going to be left alone. Then her eyes meet mine.
She thinks she can beat me at this game? I invented sexual frustration and have honed it to perfection over the years. After taking a small bite, I lick my lips and then take my finger and insert it slowly into the creamy center. I swirl it around, letting her see the effect of my finger on the spongy texture.
When I withdraw it, it is coated with the sugary nectar. I look at it for a long moment. Then, slowly, while watching her, insert it in my mouth. She groans and I can’t help but grin.
"Get everything you need?" I ask as I remove my finger from my mouth. Is that a slight tremor I see?
"Oh, don’t go there right now, Little Roo, especially with what we need to do," she growls at me as she steps forward.
I offer her a bite of the cake. "I’m sorry, Tabloid." She takes hold of my wrist and my eyes as she takes a long, slow bite. Oh Lord, well, we just might be evenly matched. "I … I needed to play a little, to break up the tension," I stammer.
"You call that breaking up the tension? Good God, woman, you’d kill a normal person in the bedroom." She drops her backpack to the ground and begins unzipping it. "Good thing for you, I’m not a normal person."
I chuckle as I pop the last of the cake into my mouth and bend down to see what she’s brought back. I recognize the transceiver, pinhead mike and receiver. "What are these for?"
She smiles. "Ah, thanks for finding those, baby." Before I realize what is happening, she stands up and drops her jeans to the floor. I am now kneeling by her backpack staring at a mile’s worth of leg ending in a white thong.
"I … I …" I am going to pass out. "I always figured you for a boxer gal," I manage finally.
She laughs, low in her throat. "I didn’t know you thought about me in my underwear, Kels."
God, more than you know.
She then pulls the elastic of the waistband away from her skin and I nearly faint. I force myself to not crane my neck to get a good look down. I also refrain from offering to help.
Next thing I know, she is putting the transceiver down the front of her underwear.
Okay, I think my Twinkie trick just got its ass beat. "What are you gonna do if they search you?"
"Anyone who puts a hand there uninvited, loses their arm at the shoulder. Because I’ll rip it off and beat them with it."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
She shrugs as she unrolls the mike wire. "Oh, you have an open invitation."
She plugs in the lead to the pinhead mike and runs it up under her shirt, lifting her T-shirt as she goes. I watch with avid interest as the tanned flesh is revealed. Damn. She has six pack abs to die for. She pulls the front of her bra away from her skin and slides the mike under it. Letting the elastic snap back, it holds the mike in place for her, she secures it with a small piece of tape as well.
"Can you give me a hand?"
"I’ll give you two," I mutter, giving serious consideration to that invitation.
She tsk’s and then spins around offering me her broad back. "Run the receiver lead up for me?"
I take the dangling earpiece and run the wire around her hip, holding it in place with my left hand as my right hand pulls it though the elastic of that thong and then up her spinal column. I hit the edge of her rolled up shirt, and have to lift it up and slide my hand under to continue my path.
"Want it under your bra?" She gives a nod and a grunt as my fingers slide under to move the receiver through. She’s so tall, however, that I can’t reach down from her collar and pull it out.
"Bend your knees," I husk, then quickly clear my throat.
"Okay, but, hurry, Kels, we don’t have time for you to feel me up right now. Later. After we get the fuck out of here."
"Stop flattering yourself."