Operative Attraction

Operative Attraction

RaeLynn Blue

Having just returned from our long-awaited European road trip, where we
’d
spent the last month gazing at the castles, cathedrals, and villas of Europe and
Greece
, before flying over to the
Nassau
for a few days of fun, we needed about a week to unwind.  Well, at least I (Jayha) did.  Though I felt that I
’d
walked all of
Europe
, that wasn’t what made me tired.  What
had
wor
n
me slam out was trying to keep Jeanie from accidentally starting some kind of world war with her “tact
;
” trying to keep Dréa and Shara out of foreign prison; trying to stop Reid from
attempting
to pull off a coup d’êtat and declaring herself ruler of the Louis Vuitton headquarters; trying to keep Yazmin from peek
ing
under the kilts of the
H
ighland hotties in Scotland; having to forcibly pull Raelynn screaming and kicking from the sci/fi convention they were having in London; and keeping Laura from being kidnapped and forcibly married by either of the captains of the rival soccer teams
who’
d all decided she should wear their rings and bear their soccer progeny.  It’d be one thing if they played football, but it was just soccer
,
so I couldn’t allow that.

I
’d
managed to get the Posse back stateside with zero felonies, riots, or major incidents.  Okay, sure
,
Jeanie is no longer allowed in Sweden (which is ironic being that we didn’t visit any of the Scandinavian countries); Dréa’s no longer allowed to even speak the name of Lichtenstein; Shara’s barred from ever again stepping foot in any of the Baltic countries; and we had to get two additional sets of luggage for Reid’s handbag purchases.  All of that was balanced out by the fact that Yazmin got a holiday named after her in Scotland (don’t ask; don’t tell
,
but I now know what Scotsmen wear under their kilts)
,
and we all got to spend a week in a castle thanks to the Spanish hotties
who
had a crush on Laura.  I prevented disaster after disaster without nary a drop of iced tea…and without spilling a drop of blood.

So yeah, I needed a vacation to rest from the vacation.  And that
wa
s just what I’d spent the past week doing: chilling.  Taking a swig of my tart lemonade, I settled deeper into my chair and
propped
my feet on the footrest.  Pausing, I took a moment to admire the red leather boots with the gold tops.  They didn’t go with a damn thing I had on
,
but no one here could call me on it, especially when every other woman was wearing the same damn shoes.  Per the rules, every posse member had to wear the boots at some point during the day
,
and it just so happened we all fell into the habit of wearing them during afternoon tea.

As I was t
hinking about the massage I had scheduled, my musings were interrupted by a stream of cussing the likes of which I hadn’t heard since this morning when I was coming down from my post-culinary bliss.  Hey, the turtle cheesecake was the b-diggity
,
and if you’d wrapped your lips around it, you’d be cussing too.  Opening my eyes, I turned and peered in the direction of the curses.  Twenty seconds later I saw a man come running down the center of the street.  Hot on his heels was Shara on her ATV, bayonet in one hand—and not just any bayonet
,
but one with a beautiful black blade with a serrated edge—the handlebars in the other.

While it wasn’t strange for Shara to be running someone out of town
,
being she was the benevolent despot and all, what was strange was the outfit she was rocking while doing it.  Wearing a midnight blue cupped overbust corset in silk with black lace overlay, six
shirred garters and her
W
onder
W
oman boots, Shara was a sight to behold.  And so were her survival skills.  Pulling even with the guy, she reached out and kicked him in the back of the knee
,
sending him sprawling.  Executing a
hundred and eighty degree turn
, she brought the ATV to a stop, jumped up on the seat and did a spinning scissor kick
,
catching the unlucky guy in the throat. 
That was going to leave a mark
.  Rocking up on the fallen man, she looked like she was all set to wail on him.  Before I could decide on whether this situation called for a
da hell?
or a
WTF?
, Dréa spoke out.

“I’m going to need you to put on a turtleneck or something before you start whipping his ass because, yeah
,
while I don’t mind watching a good fight, one of your titties spilling out of that cup will ruin it for me.”

“And there you have it, ladies and gentleman.  In the midst of a capital offense, Dréa is worried about
the
possible sight of titty,” Laura joked even as she pointed her rifle in the direction of the dude.

“
Alleged
capital offense,” I corrected, automatically going into CYA mode.  In the midst of the Posse, being in CYA mode is like Pavlov’s dog and that bell.

“Whatever,” Dréa said as she too pointed her rifle in dude’s direction.

Grabbing her rifle case but not even bothering to remove the rifle, Reid stroked her custom-made case.  I couldn’t do anything but shake my head.  Only Reid would have a designer rifle case.  She didn’t even carry a rifle in the thing; she simply stored small handbags inside of it.

“You keep stroking that case like that
,
you’re going to be obligated to take it out to dinner,” Yazmin stopped stroking her weave long enough to joke.

“At least my rifle case matches my favorite handbag.  What does your weave match?”

“My hotness,” Yazmin threw back without blinking.

Shaking my head at the chicks, I watched as Shara gave the man a few more swift kicks with her crime fighter boots.

“Are you going to be beating his ass all day?” Raelynn asked without raising her eyes from the Advanced Reader Copy from her favorite sci/fi author.

“Yeah, because that’s going to interfere with our afternoon activities,
”
Jeanie said.

“The only activities Shara’s signed up for involve riding her husband into the sunset,” I joked.

“I’m trying to do something here,” Shara protested.

Being the mediator amongst the chicks, I offered a suggestion.  “We see and respect that
,
but you could hurry up the ass
whipping a little bit.  Y’all have planned hell to raise
,
and the chicks would really miss you if you weren’t there with them.”

“Fine,” she said.  Giving dude one last kick, she went all rodeo mode and hog-tied him like she was going for the world record.

“
Eight point nine
seconds,” Laura called out.

“Dammit,” Shara whined.  “I was going for less.”

“Unless you’re in the Thomas and
Mack
Center
in Vegas competing in the finals of tie-down roping
[
calf-roping
]
, I’m going to need you to shut up.  Anything under
eight point five
is respectable,” Dréa said.

“And I’m also going to need you to put some clothes on,” she threw in.

“I’m hot
,
so what’s the problem?” Shara egged Dréa on.

“The problem is that I have enough titties and ass of my own
,
so I don’t need to be seeing yours.  And I’m not riding that ATV since your almost naked butt has been sitting on it.”

“Don’t even worry about that
,
b
abygirl.  After Shara’s little display yesterday, that ATV is officially her boyfriend,” I said
,
smiling at the memory of Shara going vixen like she was doing a remake of Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” video using the Can-Am Renegade 800R EFI instead of a Jaguar.

Knowing this could quickly deteriorate into some kind of uncharted chaos, I reluctantly interrupted.  I enjoyed their banter
,
but seriously, there was a bleeding man hog-tied in the middle of the town square
,
and that sort of thing usually indicated trouble.

“Um, not to interrupt y’alls conversation
,
but can I direct everyone’s attention to the bleeding, trespassing man on the ground?”

“Yeah, how did you get here, mate?” Jeanie asked the man.

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I ain’t saying shit
,
’ but it was hard to tell being that Shara had walked the dog on him.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Jeanie said again.

Again, he mumbled something.  Again, I didn’t catch most of it
,
but I clearly understood the word ‘bitch’
—
and that
wa
s when I knew homeboy was about to meet a bad end.  Before I could say ‘no, stop, don’t
,
’ Jeanie and Shara had the man untied, on his feet and were taking turns kicking his ass.

Oh damn
.  “Don’t kill him,” I instructed.

“But I want to,
M
ommy,” Jeanie said all innocent
-
like.  That chick actually stopped, poked out her bottom lip and batted her lashes at me like that was going to make me change my mind.  Wow.  Just wow.

“Shara and Jeanie, what did I say?”

“No killing,” they said in unison.  From the looks on their faces
,
you’d think I’d told them ‘no freedom’ instead of ‘no killing.’

“You never let us do anything,” Jeanie added.

“I’m letting you beat him, but if y’all have a problem with the ‘no killing’ rule, I can also prohibit beating.”

They hushed up right after that.

Turning to the two Texans, I spoke.  “Shoot him if you have to.”

Seeing the smiles break over their faces, I turned back to Dréa and Laura.  “Only if you have to…not simply because you can.”

“Fine,” they simultaneously pouted.