Page 61 of The Hard Way

He pulled his massive fingers from me and pressed his forehead to my chest, fumbling his large cock into my hole. “When you’re like this…” He pressed in, little by little, filling me slowly. “When you’re like this…”

I loved the way he filled me, pressing me to this wall in this shabby office where we weren’t supposed to be.

“When you’re so hot like this…” He pressed in a little more. I felt my body collapsing under his invasion. My eyes drifted closed.

“Look at me. Look at my eyes,” Zeus said.

I looked into his eyes.

“I’m your husband. And I love you. And I’m having you. Look at me.” I looked harder, more than the bleary looking that I had been doing. I really looked into his green eyes, and when he finally pressed all the way into me, filling and stretching me inside with his impossible thickness, his eyes changed. They went unfocused. Like they saw everything in the world.

I clutched his back, pulling him to me, and he grabbed my hair with the hand that wasn’t holding up my leg. I kept watching his eyes, watching him fight through the haze of pleasure he was experiencing to get to me.

“I will always find you,” he grated.

I kissed his lips. When he could focus no more, he threw back his head in pleasure.

I kissed his neck. “Fuck me, baby. Have me all.”

Rhythmically, he thrust into me.

Uh-uh-uh,he said.

And right there I broke apart, unspooling so completely into a mad orgasm that he had to hold me up. Eventually he was gone, too, ramming me into the wall. It hurt in the beautiful way I loved.

When we emerged from our postcoital haze, I noticed two things. One, there was a small monitor on the upper shelf that showed the parking lot outside. My guys weren’t that reckless after all, I guess—they’d had a view of the outside that whole time. And two, more important, Odin had found two key frames. He had them side by side. One showed Nancy Zietlow, and the time stamp said 3:12 p.m. The other showed Hank Vernon himself. The time stamp there: 3:04.

“Motherfucker,” I said.

Odin tossed me a napkin, and I cleaned up.

“If we had a camera on the dairy case, we’d probably see her watching out for anybody looking while Hank put the bad cheese rounds in. Then she’d move over and pick one up and put it in her basket. She’d know it was one of the ones Hank brought because it wouldn’t be the same temperature as the others.” Odin called up two other frames. Them leaving. Hank was out of there about ten minutes ahead of her.

I pulled my clothes back on and put my fake nose in my pocket. It was late. Hopefully we wouldn’t get stopped by the cops.

“You have to put it back on,” Zeus said.

“Gah.” I sat at the desk and pulled out my gross gluey makeup and set up my compact mirror.

“Maybe that cooler really was deliberately unplugged,” Zeus said as he wiped the place down.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Odin said. “How hard is it to get into your cheese-making area?”

“Not too hard. It’s locked up tight, but there’s no alarm on it. And there are crank windows up high on either side. They don’t lock them.”

“Large enough for a man to get through?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You think Hank actually did that?”

Odin said, “If he’s smart. It’s how I’d do it. The less people who know about this kind of crime, the better. I mean, you start hiring somebody for that, and they have your balls in a nutcracker.”

“So if Thor can get them together at a motel, then we have them, right?”

“Not good enough,” Zeus said. “What we have is a shitload of circumstantial evidence.”

I grabbed the paper towels and the Windex from Odin and wiped the top of the cabinet furiously, as if I could erase my anger and frustration with vigorous cleaning.

Chapter 9

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