Life in Shadows (16 page)

“Can’t say
much for the underwear, though,” Shannon grumbled. She watched herself in the
mirror as she pulled the sports bra over her head. Her hands came down to her
chest to massage her skin, rubbing the red lines left behind by the edges of
her bra.

All of that
was normal. It always felt good to shed her bra after work. What wasn’t quite
normal was the amount of time she took in rubbing her chest, or the slow,
sensual pleasure of it. Her breasts felt good. Very good. She’d never noticed
it before. For the first time, Shannon felt a little bad about having to
restrain her breasts in such an unflattering garment. They looked good. They
felt even better.

Her hands
lingered. Stress quickly melted away as she touched herself. She couldn’t
remember ever feeling this sensitive, but she didn’t question it. Shannon
cupped her breasts, bringing her fingers to her nipples and giving the
slightest of caresses, and found herself letting out a deep sigh.

A grin
spread across her face, half out of genuine arousal and half out of wry
amusement. Like anyone, she sometimes took care of herself while alone. Yet she
never liked the thought so much before now. Shannon glanced at the tub, seeing
it fill with water hot enough to give off visible steam, and decided she
deserved a little playtime. In fact, she deserved a lot.

She shed
her panties—dismally plain things, she decided—and allowed one hand to linger
between her legs while she slid the flow selector over to “shower.”

Scalding
hot water rained down from the detachable nozzle, kicking up droplets that
partially jumped out onto the floor outside the tub. Shannon hardly cared. She
slipped one leg inside, then another, loving the heat that enveloped her legs
and sprayed across her body.

How are
they so smooth?
 
Shannon wondered absently. It had been several days since she last
shaved, but now they felt as if she’d just waxed. Her hands slid up and down
her legs, enjoying them almost as much as she enjoyed touching her own breasts,
once again didn’t question her new sensitivity.

Soaking wet
now, Shannon finally slid the shower door closed to avoid a flood in her
bathroom before pulling the nozzle from its mount. She ran it over her body,
reveling in the heat without considering how it should burn rather than
comfort. She brought it over her head. Down across her shoulders. Over her
breasts, then under them, and finally down her belly to her center.

She was
glad to be home from work. She was glad she didn’t have to deal with Brad...
and yet she felt a hunger that would best be sated by a man. Still, the shower
would do nicely for now, which only seemed surer as she began to tease herself
between the legs with the water flow.

The world
and all her cares drifted away as the water began to do its work. Shannon
lifted one leg up onto the side of the tub to allow better access. She leaned
against the wall and sighed while she teased herself further. Arousal built.
Heat and pressure applied in small circles quickly banished all of her cares.

Shannon let
out a moan as she shook with pleasure. She wasn’t normally this quick; more
than once, she had run out of hot water before getting off, and that was
without filling the tub with hot water beforehand. Today,she didn’t feel rushed
at all. Were it not for the finite limits of her hot water heater, she would
gladly keep at this for quite a while.

Pleasure
rose. Her tremors grew more intense. The water felt so good.
 
She
 
felt so good. A shuddering breath
escaped her as the spasms began. Shannon moaned again, louder this time,
shameless and joyful in its announcement of her climax. That, too, went on for
longer than she expected. Her center throbbed with pleasure. The sound of the
showerhead between her legs changed as she brought it in even closer to prolong
her bliss.

Her orgasm
abated, only to quickly build into another before she had even pulled the
showerhead away. Shannon rode it out, surprised at her body but happy to enjoy
it just the same. Water sprayed all around her as her hands shook. Nothing
detracted from the sensations of climax.

Relieved
and pleased, Shannon lazily assessed the depth of water in her small bathtub
and found it adequate. She turned off the flow and left the showerhead hanging
from its metal hose as she sank into the tub, immersing herself in water that
would have burned any other woman.

Medical
training about temperatures and burns faded into the back of her mind. This
felt natural. It felt relaxing. She hadn’t felt cold before, necessarily, but
the heat soothed her. Naked and alone and for the moment satisfied, Shannon
felt the last tensions of her day leave her body.

Her mind
relaxed. Her worries died off.

When she
found herself thinking about much of anything once more, she found her thoughts
drifting toward naughty things. She lay in the tub with her legs spread and her
knees bent, perfect for the taking if only she had someone here to take her. Or
to kneel down and please her. That would be lovely, too. The tub offered no
room for either option, of course, but her position was perfect for such fun.

She frowned
a bit, reflecting on her bout of self-love. Normally she entertained definite fantasies
when she took care of herself. They varied in style and in partners—not that
she could ever have told touchy, insecure Brad about her fantasy lovers or what
they did for her—but naughty daydreams were always part of the process. Yet
tonight she had been turned on without any such thoughts at all. Her own
reflection in the mirror had been enough. She had been turned on all by
herself—or, more specifically, by her own image.

Her hand
was on her breast again. Another drifted between her legs to tease her lips. It
felt good... but this wouldn’t do. She wanted more.

Shannon
slid the shower door open again. Her pants remained in a pool on the bath mat
in front of the sink. She grabbed the edge of the mat to pull them over, drying
her hands on its fabric. A couple moments of fumbling around allowed her to
grab her cell phone without having to leave the tub. Her cell phone and one
other tiny, important item.

Her eyes
rolled and she let out a sigh as the phone announced an endless stream of texts
and voicemails. Friends and family called to offer their sympathies on her
break-up. Several messages asked which of Brad’s limbs she would prefer broken.
Shannon considered herself shy and socially timid—work was one thing, making
friends was another—but even so, she had her support circles.

She didn’t
need them, though. She needed something different. Shannon checked the time and
decided to go for broke. She dialed the number on the card.

“This is
Kevin,” a voice answered.

“I thought
you’d answer with ‘Officer Murray’ or something,” Shannon said, sinking back
into the tub with a grin. She felt a bit surprised at how easily she could talk
to this man. Normally she found herself tongue-tied around attractive
strangers. Now the flirtation came naturally.

“Uh...I’m
sorry? Who is this?”

“It’s
Shannon, from earlier today. The paramedic?”

“Oh, right.
Hi. How are you feeling?”

Shannon’s
free hand wandered back between her legs. “Pretty good,” she replied. “So are
you at your desk? Or is this your personal phone?”

“I’m still
on duty. This is the cell phone I use for work. I have to juggle. Long story,”
Kevin explained. “Most of it’s stupid.” Now that she listened for it, Shannon
could hear the sound of traffic going by. “Normally I let calls go to voice
mail, but I’m parked at the moment. What can I do for you?”

Shannon
stomped on her initial bawdy response. That would not do at all. Nor was it
even remotely in character for her. Suddenly unsure of what to say, Shannon’s
eyes darted around as she considered her response. She caught sight of the
plastic jack o’ lantern on her kitchen counter down the hall, full of candy
that she would likely eat before any of the apartment building’s children ever
came trick-or-treating at her door.

It’s almost
Halloween,
 
she
thought, or close to it.
 
You
can be whoever you want to be.

He’s a
stranger. Just met him. Nothing to lose. Probably already attached anyway. Just
go for it.

“I was
hoping you could meet with me later tonight, if you’re up for it. Maybe when
you get off work?”

“...this
isn’t about the mysterious dead woman with the gun, is it?” he asked
hesitantly. Shannon didn’t hear any particular disapproval in his voice.
“You’re not asking to meet with me for some professional matter?”

“Does it
have to be professional?”

“I dunno.
Kind of inappropriate,” he teased.

Shannon
winced. “Right. God. Sorry, I know, I shouldn’t—”

“It’s a
little before nine now. I’m off at about eleven unless something crazy happens.
Probably be midnight at least before I can actually be anywhere. Gotta go home
and feed my cat.”

“Aw. That’s
sweet. Late tonight is good for me. I’ve got tomorrow off. But I wouldn’t want
your kitty to go hungry.”

“Nah, he’s
a smart guy. If I don’t get home and feed him, he’ll find a way to get at the
food on his own. Mostly I don’t want to have to clean up after whatever mess he
leaves behind. Anyway. Are you in the city? I live in the north end.
Greenwood-ish.”

“I’m pretty
near Greenwood myself,” Shannon smiled. “That’ll make things a little easier.
Where should we meet?”

“I’m good
with anything. You have any favorites?”

* * *

She didn’t
normally do much barhopping. More to the point, when she did hit the bars, it
was usually as the designated driver. Brad had a tendency to enjoy a bit too
much, and for that matter so did the last couple of guys Shannon dated. When
Kevin picked her “all-night greasy spoon” suggestion over the bars she knew,
Shannon considered it a good sign.

She might
have preferred to get him loosened up, but the fact that he would drop whatever
plans he had for the night to come meet her hinted that she might not need the
edge. Or maybe she should draw a different conclusion; she didn’t know. This
level of spontaneity was a bit new for her.

Shannon sat
in a booth away from the window. The diner clung to its low-brow atmosphere
through genuine effort, given that it pulled in enough business and enough cash
to become something more if its owners really wanted. Crayon and pencil
drawings done by years of customers on plain white paper placemats covered the
walls. Some were cute; a few were very well done; most were just silly or
witty. Shannon worked on her own picture as she waited with her mug of coffee.

“You look
nice out of your uniform,” said a voice. Kevin stood by her table, clad in
black slacks and a nice but casual blue shirt under a leather jacket. He
smirked as he added, “That’s not an opening for you to ask if you look bad in
your uniform, by the way.”

Shannon
laughed. Figuring she shouldn’t overdo it, she’d gone with a simple black skirt
and a lacy white top that allowed for a little cleavage. “You look good out of
yours, too, Officer Murray,” she grinned back. “Hi. Have a seat.”

“Kept you
waiting long?” he asked as he obliged.

“Nah. Not
too hard to keep myself amused for a little bit in here.”

“Yeah...
yeah, I can kinda see that,” Kevin said. His eyes strayed toward her crayon
drawing. A black stick-figure woman with wings, a tail, small horns and a big
smile waved a whip over several kneeling stick-figure men, all before a
background of tall orange and red flames with bats flying overhead.

Shannon
glanced down at the drawing and blushed fiercely. “Oh, this is just... just
boredom,” she said, and reached to crumple it up.

His hand
stopped hers. “No, don’t do that. It’s good,” he said. His hand felt nice.
Strong. Warm.

“I don’t
normally draw a lot.”

“Maybe you
should. You’ve got talent.”

“Hey,
folks, anyone need coffee or anything to get you started?” asked the server,
all of a hundred and thirty pounds covered in tattoos and piercings. He offered
up a menu for Kevin.

“I could
order, actually,” he said with a questioning glance to Shannon. When she
nodded, he said, “Apple pie a la mode? Just that and water. Thanks.”

“Mm. Cherry
for me, please. And a Coke,” Shannon added. She smiled at Kevin as the waiter
left. “Dessert was a good idea. I like to skip straight to the good stuff. So
I’m not pulling you away from anything at home, am I? No Mrs. Murray?”

He shook
his head. “Just the cat. I can make it up to him later. Never had a Mrs.
Murray. Closest thing to that moved out a few months ago. Couple dates since
then, but nothing serious.”

“What
happened there? She have trouble with your job? I know that’s a common one for
folks like us. Your type more so than mine.”

“Nah, just
a bag full of crazy. Should’ve known better. I think the cat tried to warn me,
too, but it’s not like he speaks English.”