Lust on the Loose (4 page)

'Hey, Katie,'
he called, 'just what was it you said to Imogen about me?'

But she was
inside the little car, firing the engine into life. She didn't look
at him as she pulled away.

He headed
towards Bond Street with a spring in his step. For once in his life
his pockets were bulging with cash, and he had just been hired to
sleep with the nation's biggest sex symbol. Things were looking
up.

The call
Sophie had been expecting came as she sat hunched over her desk the
next morning, trying to avoid the eyes of her colleagues. They were
whispering about her, she knew. They often did but this time they
really had something to gossip about. This time she had gone too
far.

Which was
precisely what DCI Ambrosia Spicer was about to say to her face to
face. 'In my office, Stark. Right now.' That was all she'd said on
the phone. Sophie feared the worst. Severe reprimand. Disciplinary
proceedings. The sack. Sophie made her way upstairs with a heavy
heart.

Ambrosia
Spicer was the most senior policewoman in the building. As such she
was respected, reviled, speculated upon, schemed against, lusted
after and frankly loathed by every male in the force. Even the
women treated her with suspicion. And yet to see her petite
eight-stone frame shaking with fury as she bested her coarser
colleagues in an argument or to observe her strength of will
bearing down on some mean-spirited villain in an interrogation was
inspiring. Sophie worshipped her. And as she stood smartly to
attention on the carpet in Spicer's office she knew she was for
it.

Ambrosia was
at her desk leafing through a sheaf of type-written pages.
Eventually she looked up at Sophie. Her light brown hair was short
and stylish, though in need of a cut. Behind her tortoise-shell
spectacles her eyes were bright like a bird's and there were frown
lines around the mouth, pulling the full lips down at the corners.
She wore neither lipstick, nail varnish nor wedding ring but the
middle finger of her right hand bore a faint nicotine stain on the
first knuckle. She looked tired.

'I've got lots
of problems, Stark, and one of them is that I don't know where to
start. Did you know I've been up all night?'

Sophie didn't
answer.

'But then
you've not been getting much sleep either, I gather. Did you know
they call you Starkers?'

'Yes,
ma'am.'

'It's a bit
obvious, really, with a name like yours but some of your behaviour
does ask for it, wouldn't you say? I mean being caught in flagrante
with a wanted man... I'd call that pretty blatant, Starkers. And
you were starkers at the time, weren't you?'

'I—'

'No, don't
tell me. Let me read to you what Constable Napless has to say.' And
she paged through the report in front of her until she reached the
passage she wanted: '"When I entered the room with Sergeant Bacon
the first thing I saw was this great big bottom bouncing up and
down. There were two people on the bed, a man and a woman and she
was bouncing up and down on his penis which was in a state of
erection. As far as I could tell they were both stark bollock
naked. I was amazed at what I saw and could not move. Then Sergeant
Bacon shouted out, 'For God's sake, Sophie,' and the woman turned
to look at us. Then I recognised her as Sergeant Sophie Stark. Her
mouth was hanging open but she did not say anything to us but
carried on bouncing like she was riding a bucking bronco, up and
down, with her hair flying and everything, you know, bouncing. I'd
never seen anything like it in my life. It was then that I came
over funny and I don't remember anything else." That's from
Napless's statement taken last night at his hospital bedside.'

'How is he,
ma'am?'

'Oh, he's much
better now the shock of seeing you in action has worn off.'

'I know it
doesn't make up for it but I am terribly sorry about Constable
Napless, ma'am.' And she was, why on earth Mark Bacon had turned up
with a dummy like Hapless Napless she couldn't think. Mind you, she
hadn't intended anybody should catch her in such an embarrassing
situation.

'What I can't
fathom, Stark, is why you were actually on the job when the help
you had summoned made their expected appearance. I understand that
you seduced Kingsley in order to apprehend him and I can understand
that subduing a vigorous young man of his type might call for
considerable expertise. But having succeeded in tying him up and
then ringing Sergeant Bacon for assistance why in God's name didn't
you leave him alone?'

There was a
long silence. Sophie stood stock still though inside she was
squirming. Ambrosia stood up and walked round her desk to stare
directly into Sophie's face.

'I know
Kingsley is a pretty boy,' she continued, 'but am I right in
thinking he's also particularly well-hung?'

Sophie tried
avoiding Ambrosia's burning gaze but couldn't. Her cheeks
flushed.

'Eh? Tell me.
Has he got a big cock?'

'Yes,
ma'am.'

'And you like
that, don't you? You're just crazy for a big cock. Say it.'

'Yes, I
am.'

'You couldn't
resist another go, could you? While your pal Bacon was heading over
to your place you thought you'd just climb back on board for
another ride. Admit it.'

'Yes, ma'am. I
didn't think they'd be round so soon.'

'Tell me,'
Ambrosia was very close now, her face within an inch of Sophie's,
and there was just a hint of amusement in her eyes as she asked,
'was it worth it?'

Indeed it had
been, catastrophic though the consequences might yet turn out to
be. After Sophie had rung Mark Bacon and requested his help in
untying and arresting Kingsley she had unlocked the front door and
then returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

At first she
hadn't looked at Kingsley, she felt a degree of remorse at making
love to him and then trussing him up for capture. On the other
hand, he was a villain and he deserved what was coming to him.

The room was a
complete tip and she had quickly bundled up the clothes on the
floor and returned them to the dressing table. Then, as she bent to
retrieve her panties from beneath the bed, her eyes fell on the
loins of the naked man spread out in front of her. His cock was at
full stretch, a great white tower soaring from the dark hair of his
groin. As she looked at it from such mouth-wateringly close
quarters, it began to jerk and twitch. Kingsley was arching his
back and waving his cock in front of her like a flag. She glanced
up at his face and saw a look of desperate need.

Careful, she
told herself, he can't move, he can't talk but this bastard is
still dangerous. On the other hand, she thought, as unthinkingly
she stretched out and clasped the meat of his tool in her palm, on
the other hand the poor sod is due to spend the next few years
without any kind of feminine release. It's not his cock's fault,
she thought as she slipped her lips over the taut red glans. It's a
shame such a beautiful big cock like this won't have some proper
comfort for years.

The next thing
she knew she was sitting on top of him, the petals of her cunt
poised over that long white stem. She took it into her slowly,
savouring the fat solid heat of him sliding within her. She moved
gently, slowly up then slowly down, agitating the length of his
organ with the slick sucking warmth of the hungry mouth between her
legs.

Leaning
forward she dangled her breasts in his face, drawing her nipples
delicately across the skin of his cheeks, then rocking from side to
side and smacking the weight of them against him so he could
remember the exact feel of a great pair of tits throughout the long
breast-less years that lay ahead of him.

Emotional now,
aroused to a fine pitch by the captive male beneath her and the
nobility of her giving, Sophie began to fuck in earnest, grinding
down on that massive pole faster and faster. She sat back on it so
it thrust right up through her centre and reached behind her to
stroke and fondle the furry eggs of his testicles. There was a
grunt from deep in his throat and she became aware that he had been
crying out all the while, the noise not completely silenced by his
gag, and the realisation of his silent passion thrilled her.
Without quite knowing what she was doing she placed both her hands
on the flat of his stomach and stretched her thumbs back to rub
over the spot where the base of his member emerged from her pussy
lips. And she began to play with herself rhythmically, scratching
at the nub of her clit as that special feeling began to build
within her.

Next she was
stroking herself shamelessly and riding as hard as she could, the
orgasm building with the irresistible pull of a great wave. And
then the door opened and somewhere in her brain she realised that
the asked-for assistance had arrived - early, dammit! - but she
couldn't stop now, couldn't possibly stop until he came and then,
my God, he did, in an explosion of spunk fountaining up into her as
the wave broke...

Was it worth
it? Ambrosia wanted to know.

'You bet,' replied Sophie. 'The best fuck I've ever had.' And
that's
my
career
down the tubes, she added to herself.

But DCI Spicer
didn't seem to have heard. She had walked away to the window and
was looking out into the summer sunshine. Sophie noted the stylish
cut of her beige linen suit, the curve of her hip, the upright tilt
of her head. How old would she be? Forty, forty-five, no more than
that. She was very attractive, whatever her age.

Ambrosia
turned to face her again, her reverie over. She started on a new
tack, her voice pitched low, her tone less aggressive.

'You know
they're all a bloody lot of chauvinists in here, don't you? Because
I'm a woman I have to be twice as good as the rest of them to get
on. If I slip up, I'm out and they'd like that. It's all politics
where I am. You know what I'm saying, don't you?'

'Well, not
exactly, ma'am.'

'I'm saying
that us girls should stick together. I'm saying that I'm tempted to
give you the benefit of the doubt and that's the kind of benefit
you wouldn't get from a male officer. But I want you to tell me why
I should.'

'Oh.'

'Go on. Tell
me why I should go to the trouble of smoothing over Hapless Napless
and gagging your so-called buddy, Bacon, and generally putting the
lid on this.'

'Well, I
suppose that if you didn't it would rebound on you. It would be
embarrassing for all female detectives. What will you do about
Kingsley, though?'

'Oh, he won't
talk. A macho man like him trussed up and half fucked to death by a
saucy piece of skirt. He'll just treasure the memory in his lonely
bunk. But you're evading the question, why should I give you
another chance?'

'Because I'm
good, and I always get my man.'

'That's what I
wanted you to say - even if it is not entirely accurate.'

'Oh?'

'There's one
that got away, isn't there?'

'There's only
Danny Fretwork and he legged it to Spain. He won't be back.'

'Do you want
to bet?

'Why would he?
He'd be a fool.'

'Well, Miss
Stark, even the brightest of us make mistakes and, like you, Danny
sometimes keeps his brains in his pants.'

'Anything you
say, ma'am.'

'Quite. We'll
talk about this later.' Ambrosia scribbled something on a pad on
her desk and tore off the slip of paper. 'Be at this address at
eight o'clock tonight.'

Sophie took
the piece of paper. She was confused.

'It's my flat.
I'm cooking. Wear something casual.'

Sophie stood
where she was, uncertain she had heard correctly.

'Get going.
I'll see you later... Starkers.'

No elaborate
subterfuge was required for Billy Dazzle to infiltrate Tracy Pert's
hotel suite. Or even, for that matter, to see her adorable 42-inch
double D-cup bazookas in all their awesome glory. In the event, she
simply welcomed him in and stripped off.

Not, of
course, that Billy hadn't planned a cunning means of entry. Togged
out as ordained in a brand-new designer suit of grey slub silk, a
bottle of pink champagne in one hand and an ostentatious bunch of
blooms in the other, he announced himself to Reception as Signor
Orlando Verdi. After only a few minutes, Reception snootily
indicated that he should take the lift to Room 320. He did so and
was greeted by a seemingly waist-high blonde in a towelling robe
with a shower cap on her head.

'Allo,' she
said cheerfully in piercing Cockney, 'you must be from the paper.
You're a bit bloody early but never mind. Are those for me? Ta ever
so. You open the fizz and I'll find something to bung these flowers
in.'

And that was
that. Billy had no qualms about switching identities. In fact,
being a reporter was better, he could ask as many leading questions
as he liked and she'd not smell a rat.

'Ooh, these
roses are lovely, aren't they? Even if I can't get 'em all in this
funny vase.'

'That's a
chamberpot.'

'Really? We
used to 'ave a bucket when we were little, all six of us would piss
into it and I got to empty it in the morning.'

Billy's
incredulity was obvious. She winked at him and laughed.

'Well, we
would have done if we hadn't been living in a three-bedroom house
in Stratford with bathrooms en suite. Me dad's a builder so we got
the lot. Put in a sauna when I sold me first pictures.
Swimming-pool went in last year.'

She stood back
from the floral display which she had been arranging throughout her
speech. Somehow the roses seemed to fit exactly right and she gave
him a big grin of satisfaction. Obviously she wasn't as much of a
dingbat as she appeared.