Chapter Thirteen

Amarillo, TX—UPRC Headquarters

Monday before the Odessa Weekend Rodeo

Jackson Blevins was being inundated with meetings, but at least they were video calls, so he didn't have to stop his extracurricular activities. He just made sure Debbi had on her sound-canceling headset on while she blew him. As long as the camera on his computer showed him from the neck up and Debbi didn't use her teeth, everything would be all good.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and rested his hand on Debbi's head, making sure she took him all the way down her throat. First up was Dolly Keller. Too damned bad, it wasn't her on her knees in front of him. It would have been a dream come true, especially if she wore her cheerleader outfit. Rah, rah sis-boom-bah, indeed.

"Everyone has been real supportive of Vanessa," Dolly said, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, what's the buzz about Sverre?"

She took a shuddering breath. "Well, there's calls for him to be put down and PETA is up in arms about it."

"Good, good."

"What?" she said, her voice sharpening.

"All publicity is good publicity," he said.

"Not really."

Jackson didn't like being contradicted, but Debbi's mouth was taking the edge off things. He sipped his whiskey, still wishing Dolly was there in person. She had a rack like her namesake, and he would have loved a closer look. Unfortunately, her camera was viewing from the neck up as well.

"Sverre's tests have come back and he's clean. Your sister can confirm that," he said.

Dolly snorted. "No, she can't. She's been taken off the testing."

"What?" Jackson barked, shifting in his chair as Debbi increased pace. He yanked back on her hair. "Why?"

"It's because she has a relationship with Shane Calland," Dolly said reluctantly.

No shit. That was why he wanted her reviewing the test results. She wouldn't want to get her new boyfriend in trouble. "Who's fucking decision was that?"

"I don't know. I guess her boss."

Maybe having Reba Keller away from the testing was good for this week. An idea came to him suddenly. It was brilliant. He was brilliant.

"Well, that's bullshit. You tell your sister that she'll be back doing the testing soon. I'll make sure of it."

Dolly blinked. "Thank you. I really appreciate that, sir."

He liked being called sir and he forced Debbi's head down until she gagged. Yeah, that was it. He took a shuddering breath. "No problem. You can do something for me now."

"Anything."

Oh yeah, he really liked the sound of that.

"I need you to arrange a special event for Odessa."

Dolly nodded. "You got it. What did you have in mind?"

"We're going to put your sister LeAnn on Sverre."

"What?" Dolly snapped.

"I want you to bill it as Killer on a killer." Jackson moved his hand across the camera as if he was reading it on a marquee.

"That's really in poor taste," she said.

"I didn't ask your opinion," he said sourly. Dolly was killing his buzz. He drank a few swallows of whiskey to get his groove back. "Get it done. I want people talking about this. Good or bad. I don't care."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Hey, when I want to know your opinion, I'll give it to you. Get it done." He hung up on her. Yeah, Reba Keller might have second thoughts about putting her baby sister on a bull that was full of rage-producing steroids. This would work out better if she was out of the testing altogether for Odessa. Once Sverre took out LeAnn, Jackson would demand the bull be put down. Then, he'd put Reba back in charge of covering for her fuck buddy.

He let Debbie suck him off until he came down her throat while he thought about all the money he was about to make.

"Thanks, babe," he said when he was done. Luckily the Viagra had kicked in because he had another call. He lifted her headphones briefly off her ears. "Take off your clothes and bend over the desk. I'll be with you in a minute." He replaced them and gave her tits a little squeeze. She giggled at him.

While she stripped, he dialed his man on the inside. This time, he kept the camera off.

"Great job with Sverre. I need you to do it again for Odessa. We've got a big exhibition event planned for him and I want him insane when the rider gets on him. Just like we did on Mick's bull last year. Don't worry, I've got you covered on the tests. You can drug him anytime. You don't have to wait."

Debbie's ass looked nice and juicy as she positioned herself in front of him. He hit mute when he poked a finger in her to make sure she was lubed up.

"Oh." She moaned.

"Quiet," he said, smacking her ass.

"You got it, boss," his man on the inside said. "I thought we were going to have trouble with Reba Keller, but when I told Diane that she was fucking Calland, she took her off the project."

Jackson toggled off mute. "No one asked you to do that." Just because it worked out this time, didn't mean the next time he improvised on his orders wouldn't be a disaster. "Do what you're told. No more. No less."

"Sorry."

"And don't get caught."

He hung up the phone and then he raw-dogged Debbi. He waited until he was finished before making his last phone call. "Take a hike," he said, when she took off the headphones. He sank back into his chair. "Get me some lunch."

"Yes, sir," Debbi said, stepping back into her panties.

"I said get out of here." He tossed her bra at her. "I've got to make an important call."

She hurried out of his office, holding her heels and her clothes. She was a stupid heifer, but she could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.

He called his bookie once she shut the door behind her. "Ten thousand dollars on LeAnn Keller to get tossed off her bull on Saturday."

"She's been doing really well in the arenas. How sure of a bet is this? You know we've got several interested parties in this action," his bookie said.

"As long as they're willing to kick a little back to me for making this happen, I'll be glad to keep doing this. We made a mint on that Mickelson wreck last season, didn't we?" Jackson was still miffed that they missed having Killer Keller on the bull that time. It would have taken care of two problems. Getting Shelby Miller to back off on her women "athletes" permanently, as well as giving them a shitload of publicity.

He hoped, this time around, it paid off. He was sick of having women take the spotlights away from the real stars of the rodeo, the cowboys. And if Killer Keller met the same fate as Ronnie, well that was pure entertainment gold. Jackson opened up his special box and did a line of coke.

Things were looking up.