Page 95 of S.O.S. Billboard

He nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere, Billboard. You’re stuck with me. The only thing that would make me run away from you, wasif youdidn’thave some kind of remorse. You feel, deeply, and that’s one of the things I adore about you.”

“Adore, huh?” Billboard asked, his face smoothing out.

“Yup. And that being said, I’d love to go back and kick your commanding officer’s ass for saddling you with all this self-doubt,” she added with a growl. “He sounds like a major prick.”

Billboard managed a strained chuckle. “You’ve got that right. The man wasn’t what you’d call, reasonable. There were a few times I sensed we had the wrong person in custody, and I’d outright refuse escalating to physical coercion once I’d made that determination. Even though he knew I was right, for my insubordination in those rare instances, I was thrown in the temporary brig. I know it was a warning of things to come if I continued trying to thwart his orders, so I never pushed him further than those limits.”

O’Shea’s ire rose.

“Yup. I want to find the prick and pound his evil soul into the ground.”

Now, Billboard chuckled. “Okay, Rambo, but just to let you know, he, uh, got his, eventually. I hope that makes my bloodthirsty lady happy.”

“Do tell,” O’Shea cuddled up again, liking that Billboard was looking less stressed; almost amused even, as he recalled his CO’s demise.

“He got too arrogant, too cock-sure of his autonomy, and was caught demanding bribes from the local villages; sometimes money if it was available, but often food for his table, or chickens whose eggs only he was allowed to eat. One of the men he brought in for ‘interrogation’ was actually an elder who’d refused to pay-up. What the man told me during a simple questioning session, floored me.”

“Did you confront the asshole in charge?” O’Shea ground out.

“Nope. I ended up contacting a friend I knew instead who served on an oversight committee. I documented the graft and reported each instance. It didn’t take long before the commander’s ass got hauled off.”

“Good. Now I don’t have to hunt him down.”

Billboard actually chuckled. “No. You don’t. We actually got an awesome replacement; a woman captain who was a lot less bloodthirsty, and really knew her stuff. Everything at camp got better from there.”

“I’m glad that nasty piece of shit got his,” O’Shea stated, and meant it. Some people just weren’t meant for positions of authority.

“Now,” she changed the subject, gave Billboard a sly glance before going up on her knees, sensually sliding a bare leg over his torso to straddle him, “how do I convince you that nothing you’ve said has scared me off?”

He arched up underneath her, his cock growing hard as he rubbed it across her dampening and sensitive crotch.

“Hmm. I’m not sure,” he responded playfully, most of the shadows gone from his eyes, at least for the time being. “Maybe if you put that superior, meddling brain to work, you can think of something.” His voice was gruff.

“Meddling, huh?” she repeated, rocking against his hardness. “I should deny you any rewards for that one, but…”

O’Shea cupped her breasts and leaned forward.

“I might just have to tamper with things a little more, because… I think I have just what you need, right here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It had been a glorious week.

Even though O’Shea hadn’t stayed at Billboard’s for longer than that one night, every evening thereafter he’d either picked her up, or they’d met for a date. And by date… O’Shea giggled to herself…she meant food followed by nookie.

They’d enjoyed each other in not only Billboard’s borrowed SUV, but also in the Bronco. And one night when Ethan and his mother had some kind of a year-end pep rally to attend at his school, O’Shea and Billboard had even made use of her new bedroom…with the cats shut outside in the hallway complaining, of course.

Looking back, O’Shea was also pleased that there’d been no repercussions from their short stay in the local jail. All charges had, indeed been dropped, and an apology had been issued by the town’s chief. The two arresting officers were out on paid leave, pending a full investigation. But O’Shea figured they’d get off with a slap on the wrist, since it was clear Barnie Jakes would go to bat for them. Until he couldn’t any longer. Maybe it was hard for the man to cultivate new ass-kissers on the various boards and departments around town, because it was clear Jakes didn’t want to let those two go.

O’Shea was having a rare night in with the twoniceJakes’ she lived with. She was going to grill steaks.

Right now, she was doing the prepping,witha little help from the cats and Ethan. Zoe and Cheeto were very interested in the fat trimmings, and Ethan was busy giving instruction on how he and his mom liked things, all the while filching bites of the chocolate chip cookies O’Shea had made for dessert.

O’Shea had already put potatoes in the oven to bake, and Anna had called earlier saying she was leaving work soon, and would pick up a salad on the way home to go with the rest of the meal.

O’Shea glanced at her watch. Speaking of Anna, she should be home any time, so O’Shea went outside to scrape down and preheat the grill.

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