“I’m twenty seven.”
“So why don’t you like cops again?”
“Before I answer that you have to tell me how
it is you never once mentioned you were a cop. You talked about
coworkers and dealing with assholes but nothing you said ever
hinted at you being a cop.”
“You’re right and it wasn’t by chance, I’m
sorry. Especially, considering just how much it means to you. I
guess for the longest time it’s always been something I hold back
until I feel comfortable or the person feels comfortable enough
with me. With you, I always felt you holding a part of yourself
back and that you were skittish and I didn’t want to scare you
away. There are many people, not just you who have a preconceived
picture in their head and most people, they think cops are dicks.
Yes, there are other officers I’ve seen who get off on the power
trip of their badge and I’ve seen some do things I wish I hadn’t.
So, I can’t say I blame people for the way they think. For me
though, that’s not who I am and I would expect people to get that.
But for them to feel like they can’t be real with me because I’ll
arrest for something stupid, I still can’t understand that.
Then there are some women out there who like
the uniform and get off on it. For them, it could be any guy and
they’re all over him.
So yeah, it wasn’t by accident and that
wasn’t really fair. Again, I’m sorry for holding back on you. I
won’t say I regret it because then we wouldn’t be here now. You
would have heard it and ran and I might not have been able to catch
you.”
His eyes are soft and since he’s right and I
feel the same way, I give him a smile to let him know it’s okay.
The look of relief on his face makes me feel better. “When I first
moved to Austin I had a roommate and she was dating a cop. He was
very controlling, he didn’t want to live with her, he needed his
own space. Yet, he had a say over who she lived with. I hadn’t
changed my name yet and he figured a Senator’s daughter was safe.
He was the one who set the no man in the apartment rule and warned
me if I was going to be one of those sixth street crawlers I would
be out on my ass. He was there a lot and he told her what she could
and couldn’t eat, told her when he thought she was getting fat and
what she could wear. He didn’t want her wearing make up unless they
went out together. It made me ill.
Then there’s Claire, I know I complained once
about her to you. Her boyfriend’s also a cop and an asshole,
controlling and manipulative. It’s weird, sometimes it seems like
he doesn’t even want to be with her but he doesn’t end it.
He reminds me of my father. My father had
been a Marine, it seems like all of them, soldiers, cops and anyone
with a badge they’re all alike. Controlling, giving orders, and
demanding. My father has about pounded out all of who my mother
ever was before he met her. She’s what he made her, pretty, empty
and a puppet.”
“Is that why you changed your name to your
mother’s maiden name, Dixon?”
I nod and thank the waitress for the juice.
Remembering the backlash from me changing my last name causes a
twist in my lips that some would call a smile, but it isn’t. “He
cut me off completely then and I was relieved for it. I haven’t
talked to him actually since about a week after he left me at the
hospital. He was demanding I come to work for him in DC, it was
laughable. He’d pretty much ignored me for the last four years. He
was so pissed when he found out I didn’t apply to Ivy League
schools. I just wanted to go to the University of Washington in
Tacoma. I was afraid to leave my mom alone with him, I think her
coming to visit me three or four times a year was the closest thing
she got to freedom. Then after that night in the hospital he only
referred to me as the whore or slut. Why would he think I would
want anything to do with him?”
“Why doesn’t she leave him?” He reaches
across the table and takes my hand in his. I had no idea my hand
had curled into a fist and have to consciously unfurl it. Stroking
the back of my hand his touch is soothing and light.
“It’s something I talk to her about at least
once a year, it used to be every time she came to see me in Tacoma.
She won’t, she’s too scared. He married her when she was nineteen
and he was forty two, did you catch that? I’m assuming you hit up
Google?” He nods. “She was just a kid. She didn’t know better. Had
no idea what she was getting herself into. He’s got her so
brainwashed, she can’t comprehend life without him. What will I do?
Who will I be? She asks me, when I try to talk to her. She does the
committees and the volunteering but they’re all ones he picked out.
I know he’s hit her and hurt her. When she came to visit me in the
hospital she tried to tell me not to listen to my father. What
would he know about what I had gone through, for him it was a
regular Thursday night.”
“Jesus christ.” He exhales as he squeezes my
hand lightly.
“It didn’t sink in then, I couldn’t really
get my head around it. I never went back home after that. I moved
to Seattle for a few months but it was still too close to him and
in the end seeing her and knowing, that hurt too much. So when my
roommate’s girlfriend told me she was moving to Austin I looked
into the city. Two months later I made the move. I’m glad I did but
it was hard. It took a few months to find a job and I got to watch
my roommate and her boyfriend every day.
I was lucky though, I got in with a great
company and was soon making good money. I was able to move out
after about six months, into my own place.”
“The condo that you’re in now?”
“No, I bought the condo two years ago. I
pinched pennies like mad and then I got a small inheritance when I
turned twenty five from my grandfather, who died when I was still a
baby.”
Our food arrives then and I’m surprised by
how large the serving is and his omelette is huge.
“Okay, you should have mentioned how large
this was.”
“Why? Don’t start with calorie talk to me,
your body is amazing, I don’t want to hear it. Eat.” He orders and
his eyes are on my breasts and just that quick they tighten beneath
his gaze. He smiles smugly and I force myself to focus on my
food.
Taking a bite I’m in food heaven, the biscuit
is thick and soft and the gravy creamy and salty, the sausage is
tangy and smoky. “So good.”
“I told you so.”
It’s a long time before either one of us
speak, both intent on eating.
I try, because it is so good but I’m only
half done and I’m full. Jack has me beat, he’s nearly finished and
I’m envious. He catches my look and laughs.
“I work out, have to maintain, I can’t get
soft on the street.”
“So what made you become a cop?”
“Your interactions might have been bad and I
can’t make excuses from what you’ve said. However, my interactions
with cops have always been good. My mom wasn’t around much when I
was growing up and there was a cop in the neighborhood who watched
out for me. He bought me groceries a couple of times. Helped me get
a job and talked me into going to school instead of going out into
the workforce without a degree. He was a good guy, I know I’m not
the only person he had a positive impact on. There are also other
good guys out there, trying to make a positive difference. I wanted
to be just like him, it’s harder though now, times have changed.
The kids, more entitled, more arrogant and demanding. There are
still a few good ones left but not many, everyone’s looking for an
easy way out and for it to be handed to them.”
Instinct has me reaching out to him. My hand
is on his and he takes it, rubbing his thumb over my fingers. It
surprises me, to hear him sad, tired. Jack looks like the kind of a
guy a smart man wouldn’t dare tangle with, he’s only ever sounded
confident and cocky. Knowing he’s capable of being just as hurt as
me causes a twisting sensation in my chest.
The waitress comes to leave the check and he
pulls back. I feel deprived of him without his hand, my mind
struggles to comprehend it. Someone at the next table drops their
drink and I jump at the sound. I reach for my purse, intent on
paying my half.
“Put it away, Abby.” Jack shakes his head as
he pulls out his wallet. He drops money on the table and the
accountant in me calculates he left a nice tip. Even though I don’t
know why it matters so much, I’m glad. “Let’s go.” His arm is
around me as I stand and he guides me from the busy restaurant.
He opens the car door for me and then walks
around the car. I can’t keep my eyes off of him. Clicking in my
seatbelt. I wonder, what now? Would he try to take me back to my
condo and try to have sex and if he did, what would I do?
“How about we take a walk on south Congress
and walk off what we just ate?”
“Sounds good.” I rush to answer, grateful for
a reprieve and more time with him.
It’s a lazy stroll in and out of the unique
shops and the few people who are set up in tents. His arm is around
me, often pulling me up against him. Out on the street or inside a
shop he keeps a firm hold on my hand. A small part of me is
surprised by not just how comfortable I am with his near constant
hold but how much my body responds with heat and welcome. He begins
to yawn and then he checks his watch.
“Tired?”
“Yeah, sorry but I’ve been up all night. I
worked midnight until ten this morning. I had a quick shower and
then I went right over to your place.”
“Jack, that’s crazy. Take me home so you can
go home and get some rest.” I’m tugging him back toward his
car.
“Abby, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve been
doing it for almost a month now. I have another two months to go.
It hasn’t been so bad but I usually head home, unwind and go to bed
for a few hours. But this morning I knew I wouldn’t be able to
sleep without seeing you again.”
With a blush as he pulls me tight, I melt
against him as he opens the car door. “I’m glad you came to see me,
I’m just sorry you threw off your schedule.”
He gently pushes me down and into the car.
“It was worth every minute, baby. I’ll be able to sleep now.”
“You can just drop me off.” I try to assure
him as he finds a parking spot and turns off his car.
He doesn’t say anything, simply follows me
up. Unlocking the door I want to curse out loud as my hands
tremble. His hand is at my back and strokes me as he pushes me
inside. Closing the door he leans against it. I stop in the middle
of the room and turn, surprised he isn’t following me to the
bedroom. I work at untwisting my hands but it isn’t easy.
“Oh, baby, come here.” His words are soft, a
little sad.
I go, my head down, ashamed at my fear of
him. Of showing him that fear, I want him not just sexually but on
some basic level I need his arms around me.
Jack’s hands untwist mine and he lays them
flat on his chest. A finger strokes my chin and forces my eyes up
to meet his eyes. “Okay, cards on the table I had it all planned. I
was going to meet you and tease you and entice you into bed. I was
going to fuck you until I got rid of this overwhelming craving for
your luscious body. I was going to make it good for you, so good
you’d beg me for it again and again. Then when we’d had enough I’d
pat your sweet ass and say thanks for the fun.
That’s how I saw it happening and I didn’t
even consider anything else. Even that day in the bookstore, you
looked at me with the same hunger I felt for you and yes there was
fear. But then you let me touch you in the parking lot, I felt how
wet you were for me and feeling you shake and tremble in my arms
from a climax I gave you. Fuck, I almost came right then and there.
I was sure you just needed a little more time.
But after last night. I get it. I get you’ve
been hurt physically and mentally and you have every right to want
to keep yourself locked up tight and safe from it happening again.
But baby, after all these weeks, the pictures you’ve posted and
your response to not just me but to others, and jesus the phone sex
we’ve had.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Abby, you are a very
sexual person when a real man isn’t involved you want it bad. The
orgasm, the touching even the taste. Don’t look like that, it isn’t
something to be ashamed of damn it. I want you to answer me
honestly, before we met and I sent you the stories and pictures.
How often did you touch yourself or use your vibrator to them?”
My eyes slide away from him and I’m hot all
over at the thought of how often I’ve rushed home to read and
reread them. How I had snuck off to the restroom in the middle of
the day, with only his picture needed.
“Tell me.”
“At least four or five times a week,
sometimes even at work. I couldn’t wait to get home.” I confess in
a whisper, my throat is tight.
“Baby, I want to help you out of this cage
you’ve locked yourself in. I’m not going to lie and say it’s just
for you because I will benefit but mostly, yeah, it’s for you. I
can’t walk away from you. I know I should leave you alone and let
you figure it out yourself but this isn’t a one person job.
We’ll start slow, no penetration until you
ask for it. I can make it good for you when the time comes. I know
it scares you that I’m so large but I’ve had women say the same
thing in the past. I’ve gotten practiced at making sure a woman is
ready and prepared to take me. I only want to make you feel good, I
won’t hurt you. I promise you that.”
I close my eyes and because I need so much
more than just my hands on his chest. I step closer and lean into
him, my head on his chest. His arms come around me stroking my
back, and I melt into his body. Jack has to be aware of the
response of my body to him. My breasts have swollen and my nipples
are hard begging for his mouth and touch. My pussy is so wet for
him, I can smell myself, so I know he has to as well. Even though
he’s hard everywhere and I can feel his cock thick and pulsing
against my stomach, his touch is still light. He’s still not
pushing me for more than I’m ready for.