Pole Dance (27 page)

Read Pole Dance Online

Authors: J. A. Hornbuckle

Tags: #Dance

Ram tried pushing button #2 to see if he could reach a neighbor who could let him in the building which had to be warmer than standing out in the exposed wind on the porch. His eyebrows lifted when he heard the buzz and release of the lock on the main door. As he let himself in, he saw a beautiful face, topped with disheveled blonde curls poke outside of the apartment to the right. The already big blue, blue eyes widened even further when they caught his uniform before slowly lowering to his holstered gun.

"Can I help you, officer?" He heard her sleep-roughened voice ask. Sexy.

"Sorry to wake you, ma'am. I'm here to see Caitlin, the apartment manager," he answered stepping fully into the hallway. "We were supposed to meet here this morning."

"Just a sec," the blonde offered before closing the door though within no more than 30 seconds she was back and pulled it back open fully. "I know she had an emergency yesterday and asked me to look after her cat overnight. Don't know what time she'll be back home, though."

Ram saw her making small movements to tidy her wild hair and tighten the belt on her blue flowered robe. "Do you mind if I wait a few minutes for her here in the hall?"

"Not at all," came the reply. "I'm Marianne Gibson," she offered holding out her hand.

"Police Chief Ram Patel, pleased to meet you." He shook her hand and noticed how tiny she was in comparison to him. His hand practically swallowed hers.

"Why don't you come in and have some coffee while you wait? We can leave the door open so you can catch her when she comes in."

"Sounds good, if your sure you don't mind?"

"You're the Chief of Police, right? I think I'm probably safer with you in my apartment than when I'm here by myself with the deadbolt on!" She smiled at him over her shoulder as she led him inside. " Make yourself at home on the couch and I'll bring the coffee."

Ram couldn't help but watch her shapely hips sway as she moved to her kitchen. His eyes moved lower to her well-formed calves and feet before dragging his eyes away and choosing her blue striped chair to sit in. Glancing around, Ram noticed that there were touches of blue everywhere in the tidy apartment.

"Take anything in your coffee?"

"No, ma'am. Black's fine."

"Here we are," Marianne placed a tray on the coffee table that had a thermal carafe and mugs. She leaned over and filled one of the cups, her robe gaping away from her skin and offering Ram an unimpeded view of her seriously attractive cleavage that was spilling out of her light blue, lacy nightgown. He quickly dragged his eyes back up to focus on the mug she was holding out to him as she deftly poured another cup for herself.

Ram slid his hips back into the chair and quickly crossed his legs to try and hide his reaction to her unknowing, innocent exposure. He watched as she sat in a corner of her couch, jostling the coffee a bit as she wiggled to get comfortable. Finally she sat back and crossed her legs, tucking the lower one underneath her as she took her first sip.

"Nectar of the Gods," she breathed, closing her eyes.

"Ma'am?"

"Can't start my morning without a large cup of coffee," she explained with a smile, raising her cup in emphasis. "First sip is like ambrosia, nectar of the Gods."

Christ, was she serious? This little moppet is sex on legs and she's nattering on about bloody coffee? Ram took a sip himself. "This is good," he said, raising his cup to her.

"Put a dash of cinnamon in it. Gives it a twist, deepens the flavor."

Why does everything coming out of her mouth, that very full, very pink mouth sound like a come on?

"I'll have to try that," Ram muttered taking another sip.

She shifted in her seat and he watched as her robe parted and he caught a glimpse of her smooth thigh peeking through the lacy bottom of her nightgown. Ram tried, and failed, to ignore his cock's straining against his zipper.

Holy shit. He was in trouble. If Caitlin came in now, he'd have no recourse but to stand up. Jesus. It was like being back in high school, hoping and praying the teacher wouldn't call him up to stand in front of the class.

He heard a soft ping and watched Marianne jump at the sound.

"Oh, uhm…" she stuttered, biting at her lower lip. "That's my…ah…I have something in the toaster. It's my…Er…it's my breakfast."

Ram got a whiff of her perfume as she quickly made her way into the kitchen before he caught the scent of what had been in her toaster.

"Pop Tart? Strawberry?" he asked out loud.

"Uhm…well…" Marianne turned a delightful shade of pink before admitting, "Yeah. I'm kind of addicted to them."

Ram was smiling broadly as he set down his mug and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a familiar silver pouch. He held it high and shook it. "Me, too."

He watched as the wonder left her face to be replaced by a huge smile and he heard her tinkling laugh before he let go with his own. They were both soon holding their sides and wiping away tears, catching each other's eyes before letting loose again.

Finally, Marianne leaned across the small bar that set the small kitchen apart from the living room. Not to mention giving him a fine repeated view of her delightful cleavage.

"It's my guilty pleasure," she whispered.

"Mine, too," Ram whispered back, tucking the pouch back in his pocket. "But you can't tell anyone. I have a position to maintain."

Marianne stepped around the bar and moved closer to his chair. She stood before him, wrapped in her short, flowery blue robe with the light blue lace of her nightie peeking out where the tie had loosened, with a serious face and a raised right hand.

"I, Marianne Louise Gibson, do solemnly swear to never, ever tell another living soul that our hot Chief of Police indulges in Pop Tarts."

Ram was awestruck as he watched her raised hand slowly close into a fist, just her littlest finger sticking up.

She called him hot.

"Pinky swear, okay?"

"Pinky, what?"

"Pinky swear. You know, where you shake hands using only your pinky finger to seal the deal."

Ram raised his hand, too, closing it until only his smallest finger remained upright. He brought his hand to hers slowly and she met his more than half-way, curling her pinky around his. She smiled into his eyes whispering, "Pinky swear."

Ram got caught in the depths of her blue eyes before he turned his gaze to their entwined fingers.

She called him hot.

"Pinky swear," he heard himself say softly, reverently.

They both jumped at the knocking on the opened door.

"Hey, Chief. Hey, Marianne." Caitlin and Jake were smiling at the door.

"You ready, Cait?" Ram asked as he stood realizing that by standing he was only a few short inches away from Marianne. Their fingers were still entwined and Marianne, after a brief glance at her front door, had turned back to him, raising her still smiling eyes.

He glanced down and she winked, she actually winked, before unhooking her finger from his and stepping back.

"Hey, Caitlin. Hey, Mr. Stanton," she called.

As Ram moved around her towards the door, he felt her hand on his arm.

"Your secret's safe with me," she whispered on tippy-toes aiming her mouth up towards his ear.

She called him hot.

"You okay, Ram?" Jake asked as he followed the Chief into Caitlin's place.

Ram steeled himself not to turn around and look back at Marianne's. Hell, he steeled himself to blink for fuck's sake.

"Let me just get the keys and the rental agreement for you, Chief Patel," Caitlin called as she walked down the short hall towards her bedroom. She kept all the paperwork for the apartments and tenants in a fireproof box tucked in the floor of her closet.

"Here you go," she said handing the police chief the key to the padlock, the keys to the apartment and the tenant agreement. "Do you need me there when you go in?"

"I'm okay going in by myself, if you don't mind. I'm not sure what I'm looking for except for the contact info for any family. If I need to remove any item from there, I'll provide a list to you."

They heard a knock on the door and Jake took charge of the guys he had called to remove the queen size mattress from her bedroom.

"I'll bring the keys back when I'm done." Ram called as he moved up the staircase and out of everyone's way.

Caitlin sat at the bottom of the staircase as the two burly men wearing Skeet's Auto t-shirts and Jake maneuvered the bed and box springs out of the apartment, which was quite a feat considering all the sharp angles and corners they had to plan for as they moved the unwieldy, shifting mattress. Soon, though, the bed set was loaded and being carted away. Caitlin found Jake moving the dresser and nightstand back into position in her bedroom.

"Okay, new stuff is arriving in about 30 minutes so you should be set," Jake offered on a smile.

"What size bed did you get?" Caitlin asked softly.

"A full," Jake replied coming to stand next to her in the bedroom doorway. "And we'll be going for sheets and shit when Ram is done, yeah?"

"You think this size will fit?"

"Fuck, I hope so, Darlin'." Jake draped an arm over her shoulders and tilted his chin down to kiss her forehead. "I'm screwed if it doesn't."

Jake felt her nod against his mouth but missed the small smile she had while doing so.

*.*.*.*.*

I was supposed to be taking notes for my upcoming Physics exam but I found myself just doodling in my notebook instead of capturing the words of the T.A. as he expounded on the different theories we were supposed to know. My mind though was still caught up on my shopping excursion with Jake.

He had taken me to the big Home Warehouse store out on route 118 saying that it had a better selection than the different stores in town. And it did. I was almost dizzy in the four rows that displayed all the different bed linens in all the different patterns and colors. I found the aisle that showed the most inexpensive offerings in the full-size and began to choose.

"No, pretty girl," Jake rumbled from his place behind the cart, forearms resting on the handle. "I'm buying and I don't buy cheap shit. Choose again."

"But, Jake--" I began, but I never got the rest of the words out.

"Already admitted I fucked up," Jake stood up and planted himself in his "I Am Man" alpha stance, arms crossed and legs planted. "I'm buying. But ain't buying the cheap crap. You with me?"

God, but he was stubborn.

"Oh, all right," I muttered as I went back to the more expensive aisle. A girl's gotta pick and choose her battles, I told myself but my stomach was in knots thinking how much all this was going to cost. If it had been up to me, we would've just gone to the thrift store and picked up what I needed for the new full size bed.

I made sure to stand at the end of the cashier station so I wasn't able to hear or see the final total of what we had purchased. I didn't want a repeat of our grocery store experience where I freaked out about him spending over a hundred and forty-three dollars in just one go. I don't know how much my mom used to spend during her weekly shopping trips but since I'd been on my own my groceries never exceed fifteen dollars. Ever. And he had spent almost ten times that without blinking an eye.

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