Authors: Jessica Miller
The color drained from his face and then refilled in a bright shade of red. “You fucking bitch!” He turned his head and keyed the mic, as Linda took a deep breath. He said, “Dispatch, Charlie—”
Linda let her breath explode out in a scream. “Get out of my apartment, Joe!” She advanced toward him, her finger again pointed at the door.
His face returned to pale. He released the transmit button, stumbled back toward the door, then keyed the mic, “Charlie Nine-Four-Nine is 10-7, Alexandria, just breaking up a domestic.”
He got the door open and backed onto the exterior walkway and Linda followed to keep him moving toward the stairwell. The radio crackled, “Charlie-Nine-Four-Nine, do you need Alexandria Police?”
“N-no, all done here. Charlie-Nine-Four-Nine is 10-7.”
“You need to find something better to do with your ‘10-7’ time, Joe.” The venom in her own voice surprised Linda. “And you
are
all done here.
We
are all done here…forever.” She advanced toward him, and he continued to back away. He actually looked scared, as if some avenging angel towered behind Linda, ready to smite him. He turned and fled down the stairwell.
I am woman, hear me roar!
For a moment, she stood poised for battle. Then she realized that her robe was still hanging open in an inverted ‘V’ from where her breasts held it to an inch-wide gap at her cleavage to where the ends brushed at the outside of her calves. As she pulled it closed, the adrenaline rush ended and she was left cold, tired, and a little nauseous.
*****
A workout and a shower couldn’t get the energy out of Kirk’s system or her out of his head. He turned on his stereo, put the connected mp3 player on random, and settled into an easy chair. His body remembered the feeling of her hip pressed to him as they walked to her apartment. He could still feel the small of her back in his palm, the swell of her breasts against his torso, the soft lips and warm breath inviting him to her. The light scent of perfume and shampoo was still in his nose, the sound of her voice in his ears.
Dire Straits’
So Far Away
played on his stereo, and the distance from his apartment to hers suddenly felt like an ocean. He wondered what time she got up. Would she be interested in breakfast, or at least a cup of coffee? Was it too soon to call and ask? Was it too late to call and ask? Who made the rules on this stuff?
Mark Knopfler sang, “
I’m tired of being in love and being all alone, ‘cause you’re so far away from me
.” Kirk’s heartstrings twanged with the guitars, and he sunk into the loneliness of the song until Beethoven lifted him out and carried him over country landscapes with his Sixth Symphony. He imagined her riding with him, her hand in his, her smile more beautiful than the blooming meadows and sparkling streams, until a light knock on his door broke the reverie.
He opened the door, and there stood his damp-haired angel in a wide-collared pull-over dress and flat shoes. One side of her lower lip was tucked under her teeth and her puppy dog eyes asked if she might come in. His heart leaped, and then he sensed something might be amiss. He pulled her into the apartment and she burst into tears.
*****
She wasn’t even sure of the exact reason she walked to his apartment. It was the last thing her ex would want her to do, so that was at least part of it. Another part of it was an attempt to recapture the magic and the mood with which she’d started the evening. And she felt a need for safety; after all an armed intruder’s hand had been at her throat.
The speed with which Kirk read her eyes and showed his concern blasted away an emotional dam. She practically fell into his apartment and into his arms, into her fortress and her refuge. The story of her failed marriage and the encounter in her apartment poured out through tears until she reached the part about herding the errant cop out of her apartment in nothing but an open bath robe. Then a laugh escaped, and then another, and then she shook with laughter until she felt him begin to laugh with her.
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “Can you imagine how that would have looked to a witness? This hulking cop scurrying away from a half-naked woman?”
“Never underestimate the power of a vengeful vagina.”
“Oh, you are terrible!” She gave him a little push, and then pulled him in for a kiss.
“And you are beautiful…and I’m worried about you. Either you stay here tonight, or I stay in your apartment.” Kirk opened from their embrace and gestured toward the back of the apartment. “I only have one bed, but you can have it. I sleep on the couch half the time anyway.”
She smiled. “That’s very kind of you, but if I’m back there and you’re out here, who’s going to debrief me?”
“I didn’t realize you were wearing briefs.”
“Who’s going to de-thong me?”
“We can do that right here.” His arms circled her waist and he kissed her neck while his hands slid down over her butt and began gathering the fabric of her t-shirt dress until she first felt cool air and then his warm hands on her skin. His thumbs hooked under the elastic waistband, and she felt her panties peel downward, felt her body respond, and knew exactly where the blood rushing from her head was going.
The flimsy fabric barely made it to her thighs before his hands began a slow trek up her back, the dress gathering on his forearms. He pulled her in tight, came back to her lips for another kiss, then turned her body just enough to let one hand glide around to her front and slowly up the center of her chest until it arrived just below her neck. Then his elbow continued up, pulling his forearm over her breast, and she felt the nipple harden against his skin as if reaching for more contact. He kept the pressure light, though, as he brought his elbow down and out, pulling his forearm lengthwise over the aching bud and continuing past wrist and palm until a single finger teased over the top of the sensitive nub. Finally, he added some delicious pressure, and Linda moaned into his kiss.
She broke the kiss and laid her forehead against his face. “Does debriefing always take this long?”
His thumb worked over her nipple. “Haven’t you heard? Slow is smooth; smooth is fast. SEALs don’t go charging in all willy-nilly. That’s just running to your death.”
“Yeah, but if you go any slower, I might kill you.”
He kissed her again and pushed the dress up and over her head. It interrupted their kiss, slipped past her fingers, and landed in a small heap on the upholstered chair beside them. Then warm hands pressed in on her shoulders, the small of her back, and her buttocks, while warmer lips and tongue trailed from her lips to her neck and down her collarbone. His fingers found the slight waistband again and it descended toward the floor as hot kisses sunk between her breasts and down to her navel. She clung to his head for balance and to keep his lips and tongue on her skin. She lifted each foot in turn so the lacy obstacle could be removed, and he took the opportunity to slip her ballet flats off as well. Then he came back up, at a slightly faster pace, the scarce fabric dangling from a finger and bouncing off her skin as his hands slid up her smooth backside.
“Maybe I should hang this out on the doorknob so everyone knows not to bother us.”
She tickled her fingers over the hard protrusion at the front of his gym shorts and pulled out on the waistband. “Maybe we should just say goodnight and go to our separate beds. After all, we’ve only had one date, and I don’t want to get a reputation.”
The thong fell on top of her dress. “This is our third date, and you don’t want to get a reputation as a tease.”
“Well you know, we girls have a saying about dating progression: Slow is smooth—”
He scooped her into his arms in one smooth motion, like she weighed nothing at all, and carried her to the bedroom without a word. He placed her gently on the bed, stepped back, and stripped off his shorts and t-shirt. Every part of him looked hard and muscular, and one part was positively pulsing.
“Does this mean the slow part is over?”
“Depends on how you define slow,” he said. “I almost don’t want to start because this moment, and you, are so perfect.” He grasped her ankles, bent down, and kissed along her toes and over the tops of her feet. “Something so fine should be savored,” he said, “taken in small bites.” His lips and tongue meandered up the inside of one calf to her knee and then crossed to the other side and continued upward at a snail’s pace as his hands worked their way under her legs and out so that the backs of her knees rested on his biceps.
Linda groaned and writhed; tried to pull him to the target with her heels, but he continued to stalk it methodically until finally she could feel the heat of her sex reflecting off of his face. His hands slid over her forearms and locked her in place as he began to explore her terrain with lips and tongue, following the soft ridgelines of her labia further and further north and then circling closer and closer before engaging with his relentless tongue and adjusting pressure and location according to her reactions. Soon he had just the right spot and just the right motion and all she could say was “Don’t stop…don’t stop…don’t stop,” as she felt bands of tension gathering inward until it finally all unraveled in giant bursts that rushed outward in every direction, to every extremity, leaving her unaware of anything but her immediate experience, until she was left limp and joyful on the bed.
Now she could enjoy his leisurely pace, his happy lingering at her breasts, and each step of his lips’ journey toward hers. And as his lips found hers, she felt the bulbous head of his cock arrive at its appointed place of duty and linger for a long second before accepting the invitation to come in and stay a while. She groaned again, in unison with Kirk this time, as they became one. He allowed his weight to settle comfortably onto her and they lay still for a long while before their hips began a slow dance that unexpectedly built to another crescendo for her. As his tension built, the weight of his body transferred onto his forearms so it seemed as though he levitated over her until he exploded in several elongated exhalations and collapsed on top of her.
Finally, he recovered enough to lift his head. “I don’t want to move.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“You’re not being crushed?”
“I’ve never been more comfortable—or happy.”
“Me neither,” he said. “That was incredible; or at least it was for me.” He propped himself up and smiled down at her. “You know those feel-good sex chemicals that create the feeling of falling in love? I’ve got more of those in my system now than ever before in my life.”
“I love you, too.”
“I think I’d like to just be quiet and hold you for a while.”
“Good idea.”
*****
Kirk woke up at 0430 as usual but lingered for half an hour, amazed that he’d actually slept an entire night with someone in his arms. Equally amazing was what a furnace Linda turned into as she slept. Her back was radiating warmth into his chest, and he could feel the heat escaping around her neck as he kissed it and pulled her body tight to his one last time before sliding free for his morning run, which doubled as his thinking time, and he definitely had some things to iron out in his head before he went to work.
First, there was the matter of his dead alias and his new lover, who did not have security clearance. Then there was the matter of her friend who, for now, thought that Kirk’s name was Robert Whitman. He wouldn’t give up Linda, and she wouldn’t forsake her friend, so the friend was at least going to know that Kirk Blackwell had once worked in Cyprus as someone named Robert. The final matter was how to rid Linda of her ex-husband. To Kirk, that seemed a deteriorating situation. How had he gotten into Linda’s apartment in the first place? Kirk guessed that he had used a pneumatic pick, probably one confiscated from a burglar’s break and enter kit. A surly ex was a problem Kirk could handle any day of the week, but a surly ex with a badge could bring some unwanted attention that could affect his status on the team.
By the time he arrived back at the apartment, Kirk had his day planned. He’d keep Linda at his place until either he got back from work or he had arranged to get some Alexandria police put on her apartment. By the end of the day, wheels should be in motion to keep Joe away for good, if he had any intention of keeping his law enforcement career alive; that was assuming the guy wasn’t so mentally unhinged that he’d be willing to throw it all away to battle for control of a woman. In that case, Linda’s life would be in danger and someone would have to take drastic action.
After his shower, Kirk slipped under the covers for one last embrace, which was greeted with a happy, “Mmmmm” as he kissed her cheek. Then he pulled himself away, dressed for work, and reset the coffee pot so it would stay warm for another two hours. Before going out the door, he put a sticky note on Linda’s phone asking her to not go to her apartment until he had things arranged.
By design, Kirk arrived to work each day thirty minutes after the boss and the contractors so they would have time to discuss CIA issues that he didn’t need to know. Since he was about ten minutes early, he took some time to think back through the events of the past twenty-four hours, but his mind kept forwarding to the point where he opened the door of his apartment to his new lover.
Kirk prided himself on his poker face, but Nikki read him as soon as he came through the door. “What are you so happy about Kirk? You get laid last night?”