Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica (9 page)

She rolls her window down all the way, mainly
because the roar of the wind will inhibit conversation and she is
afraid of saying too much. Another man is the last person who can
help her make sense of Thursday night. She takes deep breaths of
the ocean’s sharp, clean scent, and it immediately helps clear her
head of subtle moral cobwebs. ‘A long walk on the beach is just
what I need, Will. It looks like the day’s going to be perfect
now.’

‘It looks that way.’

She caresses windblown strands of hair out of
her eyes and smiles over at him.

Walking leisurely up Collins Avenue on South
Beach, they come across a photo shoot. Carmen dutifully pauses so
Will can admire the models, but he doesn’t seem interested. Even
though she suspects his indifference is calculated, it pleases her
nonetheless. She even allows herself the luxury of feeling sorry
for the glamorous skeletons; she imagines they have a hard time
finding a man they can look up to. She is very glad she’s only 5’6”
tall.

They continue walking hand in hand down the
narrow sidewalk on the beach side. People moving in the opposite
direction keep breaking them up, and every time Will’s fingers slip
through hers again a warm wave of excitement crests through her
blood. A perfectly temperate ocean breeze plasters her short white
skirt against her thighs, keeping her conscious of the thin white
cotton panties she is wearing beneath it which could be so easily
torn…

‘Carmen, what were you talking about when you
said you were thinking about the concept of breaking the law?’ Will
pulls her safely out of the path of a roller-blader that abruptly
veers off the boardwalk.

‘I wasn’t planning on breaking any big ones, if
that’s what you’re worried about.’ She is feeling pleasantly smug
about the fact that she is with another man today instead of
sitting alone at home thinking about that unbelievable bastard…

‘I’m not worried, Carmen, I’d just like to know
what you were thinking about when you said it. You must have had
something specific in mind.’

‘I don’t know what I meant, Will.’ If Jay could
only see her now…

Beyond a broad expanse of concrete and sand the
ocean is a motionless dark blue at low tide, disappointingly
placid. She had been looking forward to seeing waves like the ones
in her dream.

‘Tell me about yourself, Carmen.’

‘You want my name, rank, and serial number?’ she
teases.

‘No, I already have those. You’re a beautiful
young woman living by herself who loves cats and wine.’

Across the street palm trees sway like
paintbrushes against the colorful awnings of restaurants
overflowing with patrons.

‘There’s not much else to tell. I studied
history in college, now I’m just a dull old secretary.’

‘There’s nothing dull about you.’

They pass a gay man who makes his appreciation
of Officer Reed’s physique blatantly clear, and the way he
disregards her presence annoys Carmen so much that she slips a
possessive arm around Will’s lean waist.

He responds by draping a heavy arm over her
shoulders. ‘I know something else about you,’ he whispers into her
hair.

‘What?’ she asks hopefully.

‘I know you’re fucking gorgeous!’

In that moment Carmen consciously accepts how
much Jay Westgate already means to her. There is no use denying the
fact that her feelings are obsessively orbiting the thought of him,
unable to resist the gravity of the things he did to her,
everything she let him do.

Will lifts his arm from around her in order to
take her hand again. ‘Are you always this quiet?’ he pries
gently.

‘No, I just have a lot on my mind.’

‘Want to share some of it with me?’

‘I’d rather talk about you. What are you doing
now that you’re…? How long until…?’

‘How long will I be suspended? It’s all right,
Carmen, you can say it. I have no idea. Until my Captain decides
he’s punished me long enough, I guess. Meanwhile, I’m working with
my brother-in-law. He’s a locksmith. You wouldn’t believe how many
people lock themselves out of their own homes every night.’

‘Really?’ She thinks about Jay slipping the key
to her apartment on his silver key ring, his behavior an exciting
new key to her sensuality.

‘Carmen,’ Will let’s go of her hand, ‘you’re a
million miles away.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘If you’d rather be alone, I’ll drive you
home.’

She looks earnestly up into his handsome face.
‘I’d rather be with you, Will.’ Meeting his eyes, she feels Jay
might as well be swimming in the dark pools of her irises, his red
hair a condensed reflection of the sun.

‘Is there someone else, Carmen? The man that
left a message on your machine, are you seeing him?’

‘Yes.’

He stops walking and stares out at the ocean.
‘Then why are you here with me now?’

‘Because I want to be here with you, Will.’

‘I’m not going to compete for you, Carmen.’

‘Why not?’

Surprise makes his eyes look colorless as he
looks at her.

‘I thought you liked me, Will.’

His gaze narrows. ‘You know I do.’

‘Then shouldn’t we get to know each other?’ So
if Jay drops her she has the safety net of a handsome cop’s
arms?

He suddenly grabs her head with both hands, and
his strong fingers make her aware of how fragile her skull is as he
presses his mouth hard against hers.

By sunset Carmen’s obsession with Jay Westgate
is so intense it is almost a physical pain. The fact that she is
also attracted to Will only aggravates the longing, and makes her
see him as her mysterious bodyguard. Yet his presence does nothing
to arrest the dark desires blooming inside her.

She ordered a Long Island Iced Tea at a
waterfront bar in Bayside that only made her feel even more
frustrated, and consequently ill tempered.

As the designated driver, Will only ordered a
beer.

They are heading back towards the Gables, the
sun a bright orange sphere directly in their path.

She rests her head against the seat. Her
sunglasses can’t protect her from the burning lances crossing the
dark moat of her eyes and attacking her brain. She groans beneath
the assault. ‘I really need to eat,’ she says, compelled to
apologize for her brooding silence.

‘You know, I imagine Cleopatra looked a lot like
you.’ He casually tosses the compliment into her lap.

‘So I’ve been told, but lots of girls in this
city have dark hair and eyes.’

‘That’s not what I meant, Carmen. There’s
something about your expressions. You’re a very strong-willed
woman. It’s my guess you’ve had a hard time meeting men who can
really appreciate you.’

‘A lot of women have that problem.’ Part of her
feels guilty, as if she is betraying centuries of struggle by her
sex by enjoying the things Jay does to her.

Will reaches over and rests a warm, heavy hand
on her bare thigh.

She remembers how good it felt when he thrust
his fingers into her, and slips a little lower on the seat, so that
her skirt hikes up, encouraging him.

His profile hardens as he concentrates on
driving at seventy miles per hour while slowly caressing the inside
of her thigh.

Her legs open for him.

The tip of his index finger lightly traces her
pussy’s soft, deep rift through her panties.

‘I want to feel it,’ she whispers.

‘Feel what?’ he asks just as softly.

‘Your finger.’

He lifts his hand, and thrusts it down into her
panties.

She raises her arms and grips the headrest,
breathless with anticipation as his hard palm hovers over her, not
quite touching.

‘You’re so warm.’ His tone is both accusing and
complimentary. ‘Do you always get this hot so fast?’

‘Please, Will…’

‘Answer my question.’

She quickly shifts her hips, and presses her
whole hungry vulva up into his hand.

He slips it out of her panties, and pulls her
skirt back down.

Disappointment knocks the breath out of her.
‘Why did you do that?’ she demands weakly.

‘Because I don’t want to get us killed. Or does
danger turn you on?’

A few days ago she would have said ‘No’ but she
isn’t so sure anymore.

‘Take off your panties.’

Once again, her silence has proved eloquent.
‘But I thought…’

‘Just take them off… that’s good. Now slide over
here next to me. Give me that hot little cunt, I’ll take care of
it.’ He penetrates her with two fingers so effortlessly; he quickly
inserts a third, crowding and shoving them up deep into her vagina
despite the difficult angle.

She clutches his rock hard denim thigh with one
hand and the edge of the seat with the other.

‘It’s my dick you want, sweetheart, you know
that.’

She sighs, ‘Yes,’ and slipping lower on the
seat, presses the heel of his hand hard against her clit.

He speeds up, changing lanes and passing another
car as he starts moving his fingers swiftly in and out of her.
‘Come for me, baby.’

She desperately wants to. She can feel her pussy
muscles contracting around his fingers like a flesh-eating plant as
she grabs his wrist and stabs herself to the hilt with them. She
rides his hand, panting with the effort as she crushes the divine
little seed of her knob against his palm. The lines of his destiny
are the roots of her pleasure now as it branches up through her
body, all her nerve-endings ready to bloom in an orgasm… but
something is missing.

‘Come for me,’ he repeats, flooring the
accelerator.

‘I can’t!’ she gasps.

‘You didn’t seem to have any problem last night
over the phone… You want me to threaten you,’ he realizes out
loud.

Her grip on his wrist tightens in response.

‘Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got some cuffs in the
glove apartment, you’re not getting away. I’m going to find out
just what you meant earlier when you were talking about breaking
the law. I’ll get you to confess every law you’ve broken, and it
doesn’t matter what I have to do to you to make you talk, because
you won’t be able to call the police, will you?’

‘No,’ she sighs, her clitoris magically
reflecting the setting sun’s burning sphere as it suffuses her
pelvis with a glowing joy.

‘That’s right, you won’t be able to call the
police. And you know why? Because I am the police, baby. But don’t
think I plan on reading you your rights.’

He doesn’t have to say anymore for her feelings
to pour helplessly into his hand.

He finds a parking
spot on Miracle Mile just a block away from
John Martin’s, the Irish restaurant where they’ve
decided to have dinner.

Carmen has also decided never to drink grain
alcohol again on an empty stomach. The deceptively sweet Long
Island Iced Tea she had is making her morals feel like dandelion
seeds the slightest temptation can blow away. She doesn’t want to
believe that her defenses are down as a result of the incident in
the Grove because she cannot deal with all the unsettling
ramifications of this thought.

Once inside the restaurant she heads straight
for the ladies’ room.

She washes her hands, brushes her hair until it
gleams like black wings around her face, and touches up her
make-up. She really does look Egyptian today, probably because she
is hiding so many emotions behind a smiling façade.

A toilet flushes and a woman emerges from one of
the stalls. She is wearing a form-fitting knee-length back dress,
and a black velvet choker around her throat hung with a tear-shaped
crystal. She is strikingly tall, and her blonde hair is gathered
loosely at the nape of her neck, allowing stray wisps to frame her
creamy complexion like sunlit wheat.

Rinsing her hands off, she meets Carmen’s eyes
in the mirror’s frozen surface with a stunningly green, dark-lashed
gaze.

They do not smile at each other.

Turning away, Carmen pushes open the door
leading out into the corridor, and politely holds it ajar for her.
She then walks slightly behind the other woman feeling short and
dark and almost invisible.

Will is waiting for her at the far end of the
empty bar, having a friendly chat with the bored bartender. She
sees his eyes widen, but he valiantly resists following the
vision’s progress. ‘Ready?’ He smiles.

She nods, humbled, and precedes him up into the
main dining room, where only two tables are occupied this early in
the evening.

‘Carmen,’ Mike Peterson pushes his chair back
and rises. ‘What a nice surprise. Linn,’ he glances down at the
woman seated beside him, ‘this is Carmen.’

‘Well, hello, Carmen,’ Linn’s voice is deep and
soft, ‘it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’

It doesn’t surprise Carmen at all that the
beautiful Valkire from the bathroom is her boss’ wife.

‘Will, this is Mike Peterson,’ Carmen introduces
them, ‘vice president of Seaside Fuel where I work, and his wife,
Linn.’

Mike stares soberly at Officer Reed. ‘A
pleasure, Will. Won’t you two join us?’

‘Thanks, but we don’t want to intrude.’

‘Nonsense. Tell them they’re not intruding,
Linn.’

His wife is also staring at Will. ‘You’re not
intruding.’ She smiles.

Two utterly different psychological currents
form an invisible cross over the table as the men start discussing
social issues to avoid personal topics, and the women sip their
wine and smile at each other like cats in the company of barking
dogs.

When Mike discovers that Will is a police
officer, his expression hardens, and he meets his wife’s eyes for
an instant that tells Carmen Linn knows everything. A charged
silence falls over the table then, into which their waitress sails
like a ship into the eye of a storm.

‘Is everyone ready to order now?’

‘No,’ Mike answers, ‘give us a minute.’

‘Carmen,’ Linn says gently, ‘Mike told me about
your terrible experience in the Grove the other night.’