Cowboys and Indians by Ed James Page A

him?’
    ‘You’re not supposed to.’
    ‘But you did, right?’
    A shrug. ‘He seemed nice. But he just fucked me. Didn’t let me move in with him. Look for him on there, lots of girls mention him on the blacklist page.’
    ‘What did you do next?’
    ‘I checked him out. Found out he was married, so I told his wife. She kicked him out. This was last summer.’
    ‘When was the last time you saw him?’
    Amber smirked. ‘When she was hurling his suits across their front garden.’

    *   *   *

    ‘Wait for it.’ Jain switched off the engine, holding up her hand till the final groan. ‘There it is. Told you, these cars are all knackered.’
    Cullen let his seatbelt ride up, staring at the garage wall, pale concrete pillars holding the police station up.
    Across the car park, Methven clambered into his Range Rover.  
    Cullen sighed. ‘I was hoping to catch Crystal, but he’s foxtrotting oscar.’
    Jain turned off the car. ‘Want me to do some digging into Amber?’
    ‘Please. What do you think of her?’
    ‘Doesn’t sound like she’s been involved with him for a while.’
    ‘Got a motive, though. He didn’t follow through on what he promised.’
    ‘Maybe. Enough to kill him, though?’
    ‘Elsbeth seemed to think so.’ Cullen let out a sigh. ‘Do some more digging into her as well.’
    ‘As if I’ve not got enough to do. We need more men, Scott.’
    ‘Aye, I know. I’ll sort it.’
    ‘The joys of your extra stripe.’

Nine

    ‘Sharon?’ Cullen dumped his wallet and keys on the chest of drawers in the hall, knocking a pile of unread post onto the floor. ‘Shite.’ He bent down to pick it up. It was all his. He yawned. ‘I’m home!’
    ‘Through here.’
    He frowned. The bedroom? He slipped off his shoes and padded across the laminate.
    Candles flickered against the cream walls. A rose petal lay on Cullen’s pillow.
    ‘Sharon?’
    Thin arms tightened around his torso from behind. Teeth nibbled his neck. ‘Hello.’
    Cullen let his head drop. ‘Hello.’
    Kisses up his neck. Tongue in his ear. ‘I’ve been waiting for you all day .’
    Cullen yawned as she tore off his shirt, dropping it on the floor. ‘Been a hell of a day.’
    ‘Lie down.’
    ‘Have you been reading Fifty Shades of Grey again?’
    ‘I’m on the third one now.’
    ‘That’s about my dad’s greyhounds—’
    ‘Lie. Down.’ She shoved him forward.
    His knees clattered against the bed frame. He tumbled face down onto the duvet.
    She straddled his back. Tight leg muscles against his soft flesh.
    ‘Sharon, watch it.’
    Slap on the bum. ‘Shut up.’
    He blinked away tiredness. ‘Look, I’m exhausted and I haven’t—’
    Another slap. Searing pain.
    ‘Jesus, what’s up with you?’ He tried to wriggle free. Couldn’t. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
    ‘Yes, you are.’ She pinched his side. ‘Don’t make me get my whip out.’
    ‘Seriously, I’m knackered.’
    ‘You’re a very bad boy. Taking my car from me.’
    ‘Knock it off. Come on.’
    She hauled him over and straddled him, wearing some kind of bodice, pink frills against purple satin. She kissed his chin. Then his neck, then his chest. Kept going down. Rubbing his cock through his jeans. ‘Wakey, wakey.’
    ‘I told you, I’m kna—’
    A finger covered his mouth. ‘Shhh.’
    She snapped his belt off, the buckle clanking off the wooden floor. Pulled down the top button. Then unzipped his fly and hauled down his trousers. Then reached into his trunks. Wet lips over his flaccid cock.

    *   *   *

    A slap stung Cullen’s cheek. ‘Huh?’
    Another slap. ‘Scott, wake up.’
    He blinked at the dim light. Candles. Rose petals. His head throbbed, mouth dry. Eyes stinging, his contacts dry. ‘What happened?’
    ‘You fell asleep while I was giving you a blow job.’
    He rubbed his eyes. ‘Sorry.’
    She propped herself up on an elbow, left boob hanging out of the bodice. ‘Do you want me to punish you?’
    ‘Seriously, knock it off. I’ve