Don't Call Me Hero (13 page)

Instead of the details of the civil court case, I found myself distracted by the back slit of Julia’s pencil skirt which revealed perfectly toned calves, hugged today by shin-high boots. She was masterful and clearly in her element. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she stalked around the courtroom, and it was clear the local judge was having the same problem. It wasn’t just that she looked like perfection in a power suit tailored to the lean lines of her figure. Her body language seemed to dare the plaintiff to continue making his accusations against David.

A small man, whom I assumed to be Greg Espinosa, sat in the witness box. His shoulders were slumped forward and the pencil-thin mustache stretched across his upper lip twitched in agitation. He waved a pointed finger in David’s direction. “That man has been harassing my business and my customers since he got hired by Chief Hart,” he bellowed.

“By ‘harassment,’ would that be in reference to the over ten citations your bar and bartenders have received for serving minors?” Julia posed.

“I fire everyone who serves alcohol to teens,” the man defended himself. “But I can’t watch my staff every moment. I can’t be held responsible if they break the law.”

“Actually, Mr. Espinosa, you can,” Julia sternly returned. “That is precisely the language used on the stipulation in your liquor license and is therefore terms for the revocation of said license.”

“How do you expect me to run a bar and grill with no alcohol?” the man sputtered. “That would put me out of business!”

“Then I suggest you find a new business, since you clearly aren’t very good at your current job,” she snapped.

“Counselor.” The overseeing judge’s tone was a warning. “Will you approach the bench, please?”

Julia inclined her head. “Of course, your Honor.”

The two conversed at the front of the courtroom, but their voices were too low for me to decipher a word shared between them. When Julia stepped away and returned to her side of the courtroom, her face was unreadable.

“I’ve heard all that I care to,” the judge announced. “Mr. Addams, I’m dismissing the charges against you. I have been presented with no evidence that you were doing anything but your job.” He struck the gavel block when the room filled with voices. “Mr. Espinosa, I’m temporarily suspending your liquor license. It’s not in my power to revoke it entirely; that’s what City Council is for. It is my recommendation, however, that there be a hearing at the next City Council meeting to decide the fate of your business.” He swung his gavel twice more. “Court is adjourned.”

David leapt to his feet at the clearing of his name. He grabbed one of Julia’s hands with both of his and gave it a vigorous shake. “Julia, I can’t thank you enough.”

Julia smoothly pulled her hand away and pushed a stray lock off her forehead. “You’re very welcome, Sergeant Addams.” She began to gather her notes and put them inside her leather briefcase. “But I was merely doing my job, much like yourself.”

David loosened his tie as though too much time with it properly around his neck was suffocating. “Still, I feel like I owe you. Let me take you out for a celebratory dinner tonight.” He gave what I thought was a particularly charming smile.

I felt my heart seize inside my chest. David Addams was an attractive man. I didn’t know the direction of Julia’s sexuality—if it steered to both men and women—but I dreaded her response.

“That won’t be necessary,” Julia coolly dismissed. Her eyes met mine briefly, face still emotionless, before she resuming packing her things.

“Hey, congratulations,” I said, standing awkwardly at the front of the courtroom. I schooled my features, hoping the horror I’d previously felt as I’d witnessed David asking out my Dream Woman wasn’t written on my face.

David jerked his thumb in Julia’s direction as she walked out of the courtroom, looking as if she wanted to avoid further conversations. “That one’s a pitbull,” he chuckled, “but I’m sure as shit glad she’s
our
pitbull.”

I bobbed my head, not sure what else to say. “I’ll see you later, man. And congrats again.”

I rushed out of the courtroom and into the hallway where I spotted the city prosecutor. She stalked across the atrium, one high-heeled foot in front of the other. She walked like she was on a catwalk, not on her way to the elevator.

“Julia!” I called out.

She pulled up short. “Yes, Detective?” she sighed with impatience.

“You were amazing in there.” I quickened my step to keep up with the prosecutor’s long strides.

“I was adequate.”

“You won,” I needlessly pointed out.

“Gregory Espinosa had no case against Sergeant Addams. He was breaking the law, and David was doing his job. He’d given Gregory plenty of warnings—too many if you ask me—to turn his business around. I’d have him thrown in jail for serving minors, but apparently no one else seems to care that much for the law.”

I swallowed hard, summoning my courage. “I thought maybe you’d like to have dinner with me tonight to celebrate your victory.” I didn’t want to be obvious that I’d overheard David’s invitation. His forwardness was making me feel uncharacteristically brave.

“No.” The refusal came without hesitation.

“But you have to eat, right?” I tried again. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.” I could tell I was floundering, reaching. “What if we just happened to show up at Stan’s tonight at the same time and ate at the same table?”

The elevator doors opened with an echoing ding. Julia stepped inside the lift. “Again, Miss Miller, no. Unlike yourself I do not ply myself with grease and trans fats.”

I could do nothing as the elevator doors closed in my face for a second time.

+ + +

It was another stormy night. The rain was light, but it pelted the windshield of the squad car with each brisk gust of wind. I sat in my patrol car, watching the lights turn on and off on the second floor of Julia’s mansion. I imagined the city prosecutor moving from one room to the next as she readied herself for bed. I thought about her from earlier that day, stalking around the courtroom like she controlled it and everyone inside of it. Watching Julia Desjardin was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

I couldn’t help but think back to our one and only sexual encounter. We’d had plenty of charged interactions since then, which told me I wasn’t just a one-time thing, but I continued to feel intimidated by her commanding presence to make a forward move. If I were braver or bolder we would have had sex again, I was sure of it. But instead of knocking on her front door and inviting myself in for a cocktail, I continued to sit in my patrol car outside of her palatial home like I was on a stakeout. But Julia was no criminal, unless you counted the sinful way she wore sensible pantsuits.

I wondered what she’d be wearing if I were to knock on her front door at this hour. I typically cared little for fashion, but when it came to Julia I noticed every refined detail. She was impeccable, which naturally made me want to smudge her perfectly applied lipstick or rake my fingers through her carefully styled hair. I wanted to rumple and crease dry-clean only blouses and unfasten the hidden buttons of tailor-fitted pants and slip my fingers beneath the expensive lace undergarment I was sure to find there.

Lost to waking dreams, I didn’t notice that the lights to the mansion had begun to burn a little brighter because of movement at the front of the house. A knock on the passenger side window of the patrol car had me jolting out of inappropriate thoughts.

I hastily rolled down the window, and Julia leaned through the door.

“Car problems, Detective?”

“No, I uh …”

The front passenger door opened, and I was greeted with a blast of night air as Julia slipped inside the car. “I hope you’re not stalking me.”

“S-stalking?” I stumbled on the word. “Of course not.” She was wearing the same lavender short robe from the night I’d driven her home, and it took all my willpower to tear my eyes away from her naked thighs.

“Then I wonder what could be the reason for this unexpected late-night visit.”

“I’m just patrolling,” I insisted.

Julia hummed. “I wonder if you’re as thorough with other things are you are with police work.” She wet her dark, stained lips and toyed with the collar of my jacket. Her fingers moved up and tickled the shell of my ear.

I released an uneasy breath. “J-Julia.” My voice wavered on her name.

“Come on, Detective.” She ran a blunt fingernail down the column of my pale throat, no doubt leaving a pink line on my fair skin in her wake. “Tell me this isn’t what you had in mind when you decided to park in front of my house.”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” I weakly protested.

“And perhaps, my dear, that is precisely why we do this.”

Julia lifted her backside off the leather passenger seat. Her hands slipped beneath her robe, causing the silk material to part and exposing even more olive-toned thigh. My eyes bulged, and I jerked my head to stare purposefully forward rather than at the woman currently wiggling out of her underwear.

“I think there’s just enough room,” she said, thinking aloud.

Leather creaked and noised its protest, but I could not do the same as Julia crawled over the center console to settle on my lap, one knee on either side of my thighs. She rested her arms on my shoulders and idly played with the wavy curls at the nape of my neck.

“Well, Detective?” Her tone was low, but taunting, challenging me to make the next move. 

If this was a game of seduction chicken, I was sure to lose. Of their own fruition, my eyes fell to my lap where Julia sat. I found myself breathing heavier than usual as I drank in the parted thighs and the flimsy robe material, the only thing that separated me from what I remembered as being a glorious view.

There was little else we could do in the front seat of a squad car, especially with all the radio equipment crowding the center console area. I didn’t think Julia was the type for a quick fuck in the backseat of a police car, the backs of her naked thighs sticking to the leather seats and a seatbelt digging into her tailbone. Yet, here she was, straddling me in the front seat, leaning back against the steering wheel.

I slipped a hand between our bodies. I tugged at the sash around her slim waist, causing the sides of her robe to fall open. Beneath the robe I discovered a dark violet shift that matched the underwear she had so expertly cast off. My hands ignored the warning signs flashing inside my head as I cupped her breasts through the delicate material and felt her nipples immediately respond.

I let my fingers trail down the center of her chest, feeling the fine bones of her collarbone and then her ribcage beneath my fingers, down to the soft skin of a flat stomach. I dallied with the bottom hem of her lingerie top, indecisive.

“I’m starting to sense that voyeurism is your thing,” she husked.

I slid both hands beneath the soft material, letting it bunch up at my wrists as I inched the short sleep dress farther up Julia’s thighs until I was rewarded with a view of her shaved folds.

I wet my bottom lip and circled my thumb against Julia’s clit briefly before sliding solidly into her with two fingers. She released a soft cry and her head fell back. Her back bumped into the steering wheel, pressing long enough to sound the horn. But we were isolated out in the country with no one to hear our activities. I watched in fascination of the view of my fingers piercing Julia’s swollen sex, illuminated only by the full moon.

If she’d taken the time to pop the button on my jeans and work her way beneath my underwear, she would have discovered me hot and wet and ready for her fingers. But her hands never strayed from the lapel of my jacket. She bucked against my fingers while my seatbelt remained fastened and my clothing undisturbed.

“Harder, Detective,” Julia demanded. “Make me feel it.”

I wrapped my free arm around her waist, only so happy to oblige. Every time I thrust into her, her body lurched backwards and she bumped into the car horn. I was thankful she didn’t have neighbors in earshot who might call the non-emergency line to report someone continually beeping their horn.

Julia’s head fell forward so her lips were brushing against my ear. I closed my eyes and focused on the texture of her soft lips against the shell of my ear and her ragged intake of air every time I bottomed out. I clumsily rubbed the pad of my thumb against her clit, bumping into her with each solid thrust. Her breathing became more shallow and she rolled her hips as she bounced faster and harder against my fingers. It was all I could do to keep up with her frenetic pace.

“So close.” Her words spurred me on. “So fucking close, Cassidy.”

I gripped her tight around her torso so I could better control the pace and angle of my fingers. I curled my middle and index fingers, and she made a strangled noise.

“Kiss me,” I commanded. It was probably the boldest thing I’d done since meeting her. I curled my fingers a second time.

Her hands left the lapel of my jacket and moved instead to cradle my face. I gasped from the simple intimacy of the gesture. Her mouth was soft and careful, a far cry from the bruising pace she demanded from me elsewhere.

She swabbed her tongue against my lower lip and along my straight teeth. I quietly groaned against her lipsticked mouth. The kiss was filled with such tender emotion that I nearly forgot what my right hand was supposed to be doing. I curled my fingers again and her body stiffened against me. Her eyes snapped shut, and she held onto my ears and breathed a gasp into my open mouth.