Gil and Bobby sat around his kitchen table, both staring unseeingly into the depths of the bitter black coffee they were trying to force down. The unlikely duo who seemed to have formed some sort of commiserating bond over the death of the woman theyÕd both had feelings for were now coming to terms with the happenings of the night before. Now that the haze of lust had cleared, neither man was sure of how things had gone that far. Bobby cleared his throat for the third or fourth time. He felt responsible somehow, almost as if he shouldÕve been the one to call a halt to the nightÕs events before they had gotten out of hand. But quite frankly, the last thing he clearly remembers is looking at the womanÕs ass with interest. What came next is all a blur. ÒDo you think she drugged us?Ó GilÕs voice was scratchy and uncertain. He didnÕt even pick his head up, so embarrassed was he. He was a bit dazed and more than a little sick to his stomach by what had happened. Each time he r
Riley had all plans of feeding her honest. ItÕs the reason heÕd left the farm and headed into town. But once they got on the road, he was reminded that it had been hours since heÕd had her, and that just seemed like an affront to his senses, so he changed his mind and headed back towards the farm. Celia didnÕt say a word when he headed back out of town and again when instead of heading up to the house, he pulled off the driveway into a little copse of trees and killed the engine. Her pulse raced in her veins as soon as he reached for his seat belt before tackling hers. Riley looked back at the backseat and decided that it looked way more comfortable than taking her in the passenger seat of his truck. He didnÕt question the wild need that rose up inside him for her; heÕd noticed since the other night when he took her the first time that with her things were way different than they had been with his now-dead wife. Maybe itÕs because heÕd known Valerie as a younger m
It was the tensest lunch date Celia had ever endured and yet somewhat pleasurable because he was there. His lack of care about the stares and whispers somehow got her to relax enough to take a few nibbles of the turkey club sandwich she was too nervous to really enjoy. ÒHowÕs the case going, or are you not allowed to discuss it at this point?Ó Riley dug into her steak sandwich like a man starved. Sex with her always leaves him ravenous, and since he couldnÕt take her back home to his bed for the rest of the afternoon, food was the next best thing. ÒItÕs going fine, and thatÕs all I can safely say at this point. Thanks for understanding.Ó SheÕd be surprised if he didnÕt push. The man has no filter and doesnÕt seem to understand the basic concept of no. ÒAs long as youÕre not in any danger, I donÕt need to know what youÕre doing at work. But if you find yourself in a sticky situation and you donÕt give me a heads-up, weÕre gonna have a problem.Ó Celia stopped
ÒSay, do you think maybe weÕre looking at this thing all wrong? Maybe our victim wasnÕt chosen personally; maybe the killing was just a matter of convenience like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You know, random.Ó ÒWhat makes do you say that?Ó Detective Sparks didnÕt pick her head up from the notes sheÕd been perusing for the last half an hour or so when she answered Officer Bailey. ÒWell, so far we havenÕt found anything among her personal belongings that gives us any indication that sheÕs met with anyone whoÕd want to do something like that to her. And look at the way she was laid out, didnÕt it strike you as some kind of ritualistic killing?Ó ÒOr the killer couldÕve wanted us to think just that, throw us off the scent.ÓÒBut, nothing else seems to gel. There isnÕt even a hint of anything to go on, to tie Melissa Sherry to someone whoÕs capable of something like this. Think about it. She grew up here, lived her whole life here, never traveled bey
Celia sat bolt upright in bed. Beside her, Riley was still fast asleep, having tired himself out with the nightÕs activities. After jumping her at the door, heÕd dragged her upstairs to their bed, and they hadnÕt come down for hours. After dinner, when they had the house to themselves, sheÕd found herself spread out on the dinner table among the dishes and uneaten food. She could still feel the imprint of the fork that had dug into her ass while Riley had been pounding into her before heÕd seen her discomfort and removed it. She gave him one last look before easing out of bed to grab the nightshirt heÕd thrown across the room after her bedtime shower. Silly her, sheÕd erroneously thought he was done with her. ThereÕs no way he could have anything left, she thought, but she was wrong. HeÕd taken umbrage to the old worn tee shirt sheÕd pulled on to sleep in and forbade her to wear anything to his bed before fucking her into the mattress hard and fast. She shook her h
Don saw the very beautiful woman step into the doorway of his office just as he hung up the phone. His secretary had just left for the day, and he was getting ready to do the same after another uneventful day. His nerves had been much better as the day went on with no one showing up to question him about the dead girl, leaving him with the impression that the connection between the two of them had not been made. ÒHello, may I help you?Ó Don put on his most charming smile as he stood from behind his desk to meet the beauty. He was already imagining what it would be like to have someone like her in his bed. The thought died a quick death when she reached into her pocket and held out the badge to him. ÒIÕm Detective Sparks; I wonder if I may ask you a few questions?Ó Don tried not to sweat or swallow too hard as saliva pooled in his mouth, and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. In his mind, he was wishing heÕd followed his gut and left town as soon as he heard the n
Celia started to light into Riley as soon as Pete was gone from the room but found herself pinned against her desk by a prickly bear. The words got stuck in her lungs when she saw the heat of anger in his eyes. If it were just anger she saw there, she mightÕve found her voice and ripped him a new one, but there was something else there, something that looked a lot like fear. Riley was so mad he could hardly see straight. He wasnÕt in his right mind when he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and brought her in close until their noses almost touched. ÒAre you out of your fucking mind?Ó Celia felt a sensation similar to a cold wind blowing over her skin at the guttural words. Fighting back was not the way to go in this instance she realized, he needed to be soothed. In her head, she was already throttling back and trying to assess the situation to come up with the best solution. Telling him that this was her job and that sheÕd been in worse predicaments and probably would
ÒDo you know why you were spanked, Celia?Ó CeliaÕs mind wasnÕt exactly a blank, but she wasnÕt thinking straight either. There were tears of disbelief rolling down her cheeks, and she was finding it hard to breathe past the lump in her throat and chest. Her ass was on fire, and the mixture of shame and lust she felt confused the hell out of her. No one had ever daredÉ ÒAnswer me.Ó The nerve of him, she thought. Instead of words, she turned eyes of fury on him as she twisted her head to glare back at him. ÒI see!Ó Her eyes widened at his cryptic tone, but she didnÕt have long to wonder what it meant as she found herself moved from his lap to facedown on his bed. The next sound she heard was his zipper, and her heart started to race. ÒWhatÕre you doing?Ó She struggled up onto her shoulder so she could look back at him. What she saw made the blood heat in her veins, and the embarrassing liquid of arousal that had started with her spanking began to pool between her thighs and
Celia sat stupefied, ignoring the snickers and murmurs from those around her. He would pick the day when the station was fuller than usual to drop his little bombshell. She dared not look around to see who all was close enough to hear what heÕd said, and besides, her cheeks were flaming red. Not a good look for a detective. She barely tasted the rest of her food as she shoveled it into her mouth for something to do with her hands. At least his theatrics had taken her mind off of the sickening confessions of Don Simpson. She had a few jurisdictions to call and knew she was going to be here all day. She passed the task of calling around to a few of the others and went back to the interrogation room. By the time she left there that night, she had a crick in her neck, and her mind was numb. Thankfully Stella had clammed up and refused to talk, which worked in CeliaÕs favor since she wanted to be the one to question the other woman. Because of what had happened with Val
ÒShe wasnÕt always like this. I donÕt knowÉÓ Don rocked back and forth on the chair in the interview room down at the police station. It felt like heÕd just lived through a lifetime, but in actuality, it had only been a few hours. The female detective looked way too confident, and he was beginning to think that this was the end of the line for him. Just his luck, heÕd moved to a small town to get away from big-city cops who seemed to have more knowhow, only to run into an ex-New York detective. They donÕt get much bigger than that. And this one seemed to know what she was doing. HeÕd sat across from enough law enforcement officers to know when he was dealing with a pro or a dud. He was still trying to wrap his head around StellaÕs behavior. Why had she gone off the deep end now when sheÕd always gone out of her way to be careful? Never letting anything so much as slip in the past. He needed to throw up in the worst way, but the last time heÕd asked, the detective had poin
What the hell? Both Detective Sparks and Officer Bailey ran for cover when Stella Simpson pulled the gun neither of them knew she was carrying while Don sat at his desk looking lost as if he had no idea what was going on around him. He was only aware that in the last few minutes, things seemed to be going downhill fast. A day that had started out like any other had suddenly turned to shit seemingly in the blink of an eye, and for the first time, instead of making things better the way it always did, his stepmotherÕs presence seemed to be having the opposite effect. It was true that outside of his sexual fetishes, he hadnÕt grown much and had always been dependent on the older, more mature woman to handle such things. All of this was going through his mind as things began to unravel around him, and he couldnÕt seem to get a grip on reality even as things were happening right in front of him. The loud recoil of the second gunshot seemed to drag him out of his stupor, and he
I wonder what it is that sheÕs thinking about so deeply? Celia thought as she watched the older woman closely while she seemed lost in thought. In the last five minutes, a myriad of emotions had crossed that rather expressive face that she was sure had once held immense beauty but was now weathered by life and time. She did her best to hide her true feelings about the conclusions sheÕd drawn in the last few minutes, but she may have thrown up a little in her mouth a time or two. Had the woman always acted like this with her stepson in the presence of others? Had no one else ever noticed the ick factor here? Nowhere in her research had anything even remotely close to what was glaring her in the face been mentioned or even hinted at. But it was obvious from the ease with which the older woman did it and the nonchalant way in which her stepson accepted the action that it was not a new thing between them. There were too many questions running through her mind now that
Stella Simpson was indeed in the habit of touching her stepson wherever and whenever she chose, but the move was a subconscious one on her part this time. Like Don, she too hadnÕt been expecting the cops to show up again so soon. Unlike him, though, she didnÕt think they were mindless idiots, but neither did she give them credit for being this quick on their feet. SheÕd expected a bit more digging and a few more questions maybe since they didnÕt have anything else to go on, but nothing like the questions sheÕd overheard through the intercom. She wasnÕt expecting things to take this turn and hadnÕt been prepared. Though things were still not as bad as they could be, she was trying to prevent just that from happening. She knew that Don had a tendency to become flustered rather easily and that her touch is one of the only ways to calm him down and keep him grounded when he gets like this. It was a bit risky in front of the cops or any stranger for that matter, but it was be
Don Simpson was caught completely off guard by the sudden appearance of the two officers who showed up at his office door out of nowhere unannounced. TheyÕd caught him slipping, as the young people like to say since heÕd been sure that heÕd warded off the female detective the day before. His secretary looked a bit askance at him as she ushered them into the inner office before closing the door behind them. ÒDetective, what can I do for you? I thought we already established yesterday that I donÕt know the young lady in question, so wouldnÕt be of much help with your investigation. Come in, come in.Ó He made a grand gesture of inviting them in as he gave them his best shit-eating grin. The one that every good lawyer worth his salt had practiced in his mirror at least a thousand times give or take. It pretty much says weÕre all on the same team, nothing to see here and has gotten him out of many a scrape with the boys in blue in the past. The fact that she was a woman shoul
Gil wasnÕt looking too good when the detectives showed up at his door. HeÕd not too long gotten off the phone with Bobby, whoÕd called to give him a heads-up that they were on their way to see him. He didnÕt quite know how to feel about other people knowing what heÕd done on the very night after his wifeÕs dead body was found. He didnÕt want people in the little town, thinking that he hadnÕt loved his Mel because he did. He also had the fleeting worry that the New York detective might find his actions suspicious and start sniffing around his tail instead of going after the real killer. According to Bobby, she wasnÕt the type, and from what heÕd seen so far, heÕd have to agree. Still, what heÕd done could be misconstrued and damn sure frowned upon if it got back to the wrong people. By the time he opened the door to Detective Sparks, and Officer Bailey Gil was in a state. HeÕd worked himself into a tizzy worrying not only about what heÕd done but also about the fact that h
By the time Celia reached her desk Riley, and his antics were the last thing on her mind. She was back in detective mode and was sure that she was on the right track. SheÕd spent most of the time after leaving Don WilsonÕs office, concentrating on who the mystery guest had been, but now her focus had shifted back to her reason for going there in the first place. She was sure that sheÕd found Don Simpson and the fact that heÕd changed his name and was now using an alias was only one of the reasons she found him suspicious. As a detective whoÕd been trained by the best, she knew all of the signs to look for in a suspect. Some of them are sophisticated enough to get away with lying, but a greenhorn like Don wasnÕt savvy enough to pull the wool over her eyes. She couldnÕt quite put her finger on why exactly she didnÕt peg him as her killer; the vibe just wasnÕt there. But she knew from his squirrely actions under her questioning that he knew something or was involved in some
Don stepped gingerly from the shower, the welts on his ass and back burning like fire with each move he made. It was a small price to pay for the pleasure heÕd enjoyed all evening and into the night, though, so he wasnÕt about to complain. Not only had he had one of the best fucks of his life, which was saying a lot considering, but that hot detective didnÕt seem to be on his scent. SheÕd given him a bit of a stir showing up like that, but in the end, he was able to keep her from guessing the truth. It still remains to be seen if heÕd have to pick up stakes and leave town in the near future, but for now, he didnÕt feel the rush to do so, not like last time when the cops were on his ass, and he had to bail. Standing in front of the mirror, he ran the towel over his wet chest down past his middle that was growing a little soft to his cock that was still on full alert. In the bedroom next door, his tormentor was waiting, ready to soothe the pain left by her vicious beating.