Bounce Down: 1st Quarter: Start of Play Page 7

  Soon his hands moved to mine, pulling them above my head. My eyes flew open as he held them together with one hand, while his free hand continued to wash me from my arms to my torso.

  Once again he was controlling me, but wasn’t this what I wanted, what I came here for, what I made that first phone call for? And so far the results spoke for themselves, sexually I had never been so satisfied. But something was missing, I wasn’t sure what. All I knew was I wanted more.

  “Turn around and place your hands on the wall.”

  I tried to stall. “No strings?”

  At my words, he ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Trust me.”

  Trust me? It’s what the guys at work generally said when, in fact, the opposite was more likely. Yes, they were police officers, but they were also men.

  Slowly I turned around and placed my hands and my forehead against the tiles. I took deep breaths and again shut my eyes, trying to decide what I wanted as his hands moved sensually over my body, paying particular attention to my still-smarting cheeks. Here he was gentle, for which I was thankful. It was bad enough when the hot water rained down on my butt, let alone any firmer attention.

  After he was finished with my bottom, his hands moved lower, one to push my legs further apart so the other could wash my wet throbbing sex. How did he manage to bring me to the edge so quickly?

  I sighed deeply as I thought about where we stood. One word from me could finish this, but what would it finish, the sex, the shower, sleeping over or the whole thing? I knew he wanted me to stay the night, but if I left in the morning would he want to see me again, or would he move on?

  While it was fresh in my mind, I blurted out, “If I left now, would you readvertise?”

  His hands stilled at my words, once again leaving me frustrated with need. After a moment, he turned me around. “Is that what you think, if you say no to me or you want to leave, then it’s over?”

  I nodded, confirming what was on my mind. Brendon shook his head and reached over to turn off the water.

  He left me for a moment and returned with a large white fluffy towel. He helped me out of the shower, but instead of handing it over, he dried me himself. I felt disappointed that he hadn’t finished what he’d started, which shocked me to realise I was close to having an orgasm so soon after my spank-fuelled one.

  Then he was wrapping me in a matching bathrobe. It was obviously his as it swamped me, making me look like a small child. After securing a towel around his waist he held my hand and ushered me into his room where he sat on the bed, pulling me into a sitting position next to him.

  He held up his free hand and grinned. “Don’t say one word about what beds are for, okay?”

  “Okay.” I smiled back.

  “Now, I want you to listen, without interrupting.” Tilting my chin up with one finger, he paused to see if I had something to say; I didn’t. I was too curious to see where this was leading.

  “I want you to stay and I’m happy with how things are going. Not just the sex, but how you react to me, how you make me feel when you let me take control. Yes, we have things we need to work through, like how you felt while you were left alone earlier. There will be unexpected situations will arise, but we can deal with them one at a time.”

  He cupped my cheek with his hand. “You can have time alone to think about this, but I would prefer you stayed, so we can resolve any issues you have.”

  So he wanted me to stay and help me with my issues. This caused me to self-question what issues did I have, other than wanting more? More what, would be his question and I didn’t know the answer, not at this stage.

  “Don’t tell me I’ve cured you of your impolite habit?”

  “Sorry?”

  His voice became deeper. “Suzanna, have you been paying attention?”

  “Yes, I was just thinking about what you said. What have you cured me of?”

  “Your habit of always interrupting me.”

  “Oh, right.” I want more, I want more, the words kept repeating themselves in my head, but as yet I could not speak them out loud.

  He was sitting there, waiting for me to say something about his little speech. I felt weary and didn’t want to continue the conversation, at least not at that moment.

  I gazed up at his handsome face. “I’m tired Brendon and I can’t think straight.”

  “Of course. Do you want to sleep here?”

  I turned to face his bed; it was so inviting, as was its sexy owner with just a towel around his waist, leaving his to-die-for chest bare for my viewing pleasure.

  I took a deep breath. “No strings?” Even though my body was screaming out for release, I fought to keep my desires in check. I knew I should have opted for the other room, but the chance to sleep with him was too irresistible.

  He dropped his head slightly at the implications. “No strings. Do you want your nightie or something more comfortable to sleep in?”

  I knew by his tone more comfortable meant less sexy.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He went to one of the mirrored wardrobes, identical to those in the other rooms and from a drawer brought out a white T-shirt, like the one he had worn the previous week.

  I was beginning to have second thoughts. Yes I wanted to come, but he had stated no strings and that’s why I agreed to stay. “Perhaps I should sleep in the other room, in case your urges get the better of you during the night?”

  “Let me handle my urges, okay? I said there would be no pressure, no strings and I’ve already pushed those boundaries in the shower.”

  He handed over the shirt and nodded towards the en-suite. “You can change in there if you like.”

  Just a T-shirt, nothing else? “My spare underwear is in the car.”

  “You won’t need any underwear.”

  I stared back at him, doubting his words.

  “The shirt will be long on you and besides, I’m going to keep my word, okay?”

  I nodded, then slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. After changing, I pulled a comb through my hair and used my toothbrush.

  By the time I returned he had also dressed, well partially; all he was wearing were some boxers. I couldn’t help but smile to see they were in his football club colours, green and white, sporting the official Swan River Football Club (SRFC) logo.

  At my smirk, he spread his arms wide. “Hey, they’re freebies, everyone has a pair.”

  I felt overdressed with his shirt coming down to my knees. Of course this was the point wasn’t it, to protect me from his advances?

  He looked me over approvingly. “I will be back in a minute.”

  As he went back into the bathroom, I quickly slipped under the covers before he returned. As I lay there, I tried to remember why I was denying us from having sex. I definitely wanted it and from the size of his cock in the shower, it seemed certain he was up for it. We had already done it twice and earlier he had proved he could make me come, even against my will. Not to mention my present unfulfilled state, thanks to his cleansing technique.

  What would this no strings arrangement achieve? The answer was staring me in the face. No strings, they were his words, his arrangement. Granted, he had suggested it because I was about to leave, but would I have left?

  If he had straight off said sorry and kissed me, I would have relented and stayed. Well I was staying now, wasn’t I? Yes, with one big difference, which I was about to rectify.

  I was getting out of bed as he emerged from the en-suite.

  “What’s wrong?” Concern was etched on his face as though he believed I was leaving.

  I smiled to reassure him. “I forgot something.” I dashed to the bathroom before he could question me further.

  When I returned I saw he had dimmed the lights and, having come from the brightly lit en-suite, it took my eyes a moment to adjust.

  “What the...?”

  I saw him rise from the bed and come towards me.

  “Why are you wearing...?”
>
  I interrupted and gave him a cheeky grin. “I will be more comfortable in my nightie.”

  He shook his head at this. “No Suzie, not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” I closed the distance between us.

  He put me at arm’s length. “Because my cock and I won’t be able to keep our promise.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and purred, “Promises you can’t keep are the best kind.”

  Chapter 8

  Images of the weekend flashed through my head like a newsreel; Friday night, our vanilla lovemaking, the fight, the discipline, the shower and my red nightie.

  The sex that followed had been so hard and fast it took my breath away. I blushed at the memory. We then continued at a more leisurely pace, as we explored each other’s bodies deep into the night. Thankfully, he seemed to have an unlimited supply of protection.

  We finished with another shower and by the time I fell into an exhausted sleep, it was almost dawn. The most special moment of the weekend was waking up next to him for the first time and studying him while he slept. I remembered how handsome he looked, handsome but innocent, like a little boy.

  We slept late and enjoyed a light brunch. It was during this meal, Brendon brought up my issue of being made to stay upstairs if he had visitors. His problem was explaining my presence.

  Since I wasn’t his girlfriend, he didn’t want to introduce me as a friend because it would look like I was a one night-stand. Then, if the situation arose when visitors returned and again saw me, they would wonder what kind of relationship we had.

  I felt ashamed as I recalled my callous words to Brendon.

  “I will just have to keep you suitably occupied.” I queried this statement and he had winked, stating, “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Good morning, Suzie.”

  Peter’s words brought me back to the present. I glanced up and saw him and two guys from his team coming through the door. The others called their greetings and kept going through to the squad room, but Peter had stopped at my desk.

  “Good morning Pete.”

  He got straight down to business. “So how’s Bob, or should I say Brendon?”

  My eyes widened at his knowledge. How did he find out, surely he hadn’t had me followed?

  I elected to play dumb. “What are you talking about?”

  Peter plonked himself down on his favourite corner of my desk. “The jig is up, so you might as well ‘fess up.”

  I eyed him warily and decided I was not about to tell him anything, until I established how much he knew. It was one of their tried and true tactics they used on Persons of Interest (POIs). If the Police acted like they knew the full story, by dropping a few snippets of the truth, then in all likelihood the POIs would roll over on their associates, never realising they had put them in solely on their own confession.

  My email pinged and I saw the sender’s name, Amanda Stewart, with the subject title, ‘Sorry.’ Of course, he had grilled her for information and she had spilled the beans. I didn’t bother opening the email to confirm this, not with him hovering like a vulture.

  At least I knew Peter, like Mandy, knew practically nothing, apart from his Christian name and that we met on a blind date at a park.

  Now with the upper hand, I stared up at him and smiled sweetly. “Brendon’s fine, thanks for asking.”

  I broke eye contact and returned to typing an urgent report for the Inspector. Speak of the devil, Inspector Dave White emerged from his glass-walled office directly behind my partition and popped his head around the corner.

  “Are you nearly finished Suzie, I have to get the report to the AC (Assistant Commissioner) by nine?”

  He frowned at Peter’s presence. “I hope you’re not distracting our typist? Don’t you have work of your own to do?”

  “Of course.” He gave me that ‘we’re not finished’ look, before he headed towards the squad room.

  Dave winked at me. “You owe me one.”

  Dave was one of my favourites at Homicide. He alone had been instrumental in getting me into the Squad, all but poaching me from another section, the Drug Squad Support Unit (DSSU). He was one of those policemen you could pick from a mile away; mid-forties, naturally tall, medium build, short dark hair with matching colour moustache and an air of authority no-one challenged. Even though he was old-school, he was quick at reading situations and could tell I was not happy with Peter’s presence.

  After handing over the printed report for Dave’s signature, I clicked into Mandy’s email. It was as expected and I gave her a quick call, wanting details.

  “Sorry Suze, but your pal Pete and his buddies cornered me.” Mandy worked in the same building, a few floors below.

  “But why did you tell them anything?”

  “Peter said he was worried about your safety. He kept firing questions at me about how you two met and I let it slip about the blind date.”

  “Great, so what, specifically, did you tell him?”

  There was a guilty silence, before she admitted quietly, “Everything I know, from the meeting in the park, to leaving your car behind and going to his place. I even told him about talking to me on Skype.”

  At my exasperated sigh, she added, “I’m really sorry, but he was so intimidating. Please don’t be mad at me.”

  Thank god I had told her nothing else.

  She asked if I could spare some time for a cuppa and I declined, pleading a busy morning. The last thing I wanted was Mandy within earshot of Peter.

  I took an early lunch break so I would be relatively alone in the cafeteria upstairs. I was starting on my meal as my phone buzzed – it was mum.

  She rang to ask me to come over for tea and I readily agreed. To mum and dad, tea meant dinner – it was breakfast, dinner and tea, although I had often tried to tell them it was breakfast, lunch and dinner.

  “How was your weekend?”

  “I had a great weekend and will tell you about it tonight.”

  “It sounds like you’ve met someone.”

  I smiled. She could always tell my mood by the tone of my voice.

  After I hung up, I gazed out over the Perth skyline and pondered what to tell mum and dad regarding Brendon. We had discussed what I should tell my family and friends and why I was not available every weekend.

  Brendon had eventually agreed to let me them know his identity, but not any details about our relationship. He didn’t think it was a good idea to tell anyone we only saw each other on weekends and didn’t go out anywhere together, let alone what we did behind closed doors. Well, that was definitely one thing we both agreed on.

  I would have to keep my cards close to my chest during dinner, sorry tea, with mum and dad. It would be extremely hard, given the questions they were likely to ask.

  As I headed back downstairs I pondered whether I should also tell Peter. Telling him who Brendon was may make him back off. However knowing Peter, he would probably dig even deeper to discover our unusual relationship. I would wait to speak with Jeanette in person and of course, I should tell Mandy, but on the proviso she didn’t crack under any further Police interrogation.

  Back at my computer, I was taken aback to see an email from Brendon. He had asked for my work email, in case he needed to contact me during the day, as opposed to phoning at an inconvenient time.

  ‘Thanks’ was the subject with the short message, ‘Thanks for staying, thanks for letting my best friend and I break our promise and a special thanks for the red nightie, Brendon.’ This time it was signed Brendon instead of Mac.

  I smiled broadly and was about to reply as Tony and Rick, Peter’s other team members, came up to my desk, one on either side of me.

  “What you up to, are you busy?”

  In case they tried to read the email I quickly switched screens, blocking Brendon’s message from their prying eyes.

  “Not really, what’s up?” I glanced up at them, not fazed by their overbearing presence as they stood over me.

  I had work
ed with many young ego-fuelled detectives over the years and knew not to show weakness in the face of their intimidation. So far it had worked for me, to the point where I had gained respect from my police work colleagues. However, these young pups were fairly new to the squad and as they were under Peter’s tutelage, I had to be on my guard.

  “Hammer’s interviewing a suspect in the Jacobs case, so he’ll need you to type the ROI,” Rick stated, as he passed some handwritten notes to me.

  When a Record of Interview (ROI) was being taken down by hand, the pages would be brought out a few at a time, as the interview progressed. In this way, by the time they had finished, I would only be a couple of pages behind and could quickly type them, so they could be read and signed by the suspect, or POI being the preferred term.

  Of course it would be much quicker if the detectives could type the ROI directly onto a laptop in the room, but they didn’t have the typing speed I did. Plus, they needed to be accurate and set out a certain way for Court. Having said that, many of the guys and girls in the squad did type their own reports and emailed them to me for formatting and printing.

  “Sure no worries, I’ll get started on these pages then.”

  I put my reply to Brendon’s email on the back burner, as I typed Peter’s notes.

  Due to the length of the ROI and work from other squad members, it was almost five by the time I got back to Brendon’s, ‘Thanks’ email.

  I titled my response, ‘You’re welcome’ and typed, ‘Looking forward to a repeat performance starring the infamous red nightie. Ps also looking forward to getting reacquainted with you and your best friend. Suzie x’

  At my parents’ I was pleased to discover mum had cooked a roast chicken, complete with all the trimmings.

  She related what had been happening with everyone from my brother, Aiden, to the neighbours’ comings and goings. Eventually dad cut in her on monologue to ask me about my weekend.