Going Commando

by Catherine Chernow

  Going Commando

  By

  Catherine Chernow

  Copyright © 2009, Catherine Chernow

  Published March 2009

  by

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  Edgewater, Florida

  All rights reserved

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “Goooooooood Morning Long Island! Do you know what today is? It’s National No Undies Day!”

  Shyra Lawrence’s eyes popped open when she heard the DJ from her favorite radio station. Snuggling under the bedcovers, her fuzzy brain tried to make sense of the announcer’s comments.

  She drifted back into deep sleep, her fingers seeking, anxious to find her naked clit. Shyra dreamed of a tall man, well built, long dark hair brushing his shoulders. Stroking the little pearl of sensitive flesh between her legs, her body throbbed with need when she imagined his large hand replacing hers.

  Her alarm went off again, its annoying screech enough to set her teeth on edge. Rolling over, she hit the reset button, her ears attuned to the announcer.

  “Today’s the day you shed that annoying underwear—guys, get rid of those boxers and ladies forget the thong. It’s time for everyone to go commando!”

  As she padded to the bathroom, the cool breeze from the air conditioner swirled up her legs, caressing her thighs. Thoughts of her stodgy boss came to mind…what would he think if he knew it was his fingers she imagined touching her? Her clit pulsed. Shyra sat down on the bathroom floor, the cool tiles providing a welcome feeling on her bottom. Moistening her index and middle fingers with the tip of her tongue, she shoved her hand down her panties and stroked, the delicious pulsing sensation growing each time her fingers skimmed her labia.

  Derek Grayson, her boss, did this; he made her come this way—in an explosion of feeling.

  Shyra’s face flamed, her body flushing all over.

  If only Derek wasn’t such a damned prig!

  Rising from the bathroom floor, she made quick work of her morning routine, opting to forego her panties.

  It felt strange, yet free. One less piece of laundry to wash; if she did this for a week, just think of the time and effort she’d save…

  Bull.

  She wanted Derek to notice!

  She had tried everything she could think of to get him to ask her out. Damn, but she wanted to get laid by Derek in the worst way, but he wasn’t biting.

  She walked to the kitchen, where she poured herself a cup of steaming java and sat down at her laptop. There was an email from her best friend, Donna.

  Did you hear? Today’s National No Underwear Day. I’m going commando – how about you? Forget the underpants, the thongs (hell…those always ride up MY butt anyway…lol).

  Shyra frowned and sipped her coffee. Donna did have a point. Shyra was forever tugging her thong out of her ass, too.

  She sighed, placing the mug down next to her laptop. Thoughts of Derek intruded. He was the head of Gray’s Bounty Hunters, and served as the muscle… Shyra was the sweet-talker, or ‘good cop’. The one who got the girlfriend or wife or other family members to tell them where the ‘skips’ were hiding out.

  She spent the next few minutes checking her other emails when she remembered she never replied to Donna’s email. Frowning, she glanced at all the emails in her message box, but couldn’t find Donna’s original message. Had she deleted it? She checked her ‘deleted mail,’ but didn’t see Donna’s message there, either.

  Damn! She glanced at her watch. If she didn’t hurry and move her butt, she’d be late for work again.

  Shyra used her address book and composed a new email message to Donna:

  Yeah, I’m going commando, too! My ass is going to be as naked as the day I was born. No more tugging on that thong. No more annoying panties. I just had a wax, so I might even turn myself on! LOL. Maybe I’ll catch you later for a drink or something and we can swap ‘no underwear’ stories. Bye! Xoxoxoxoxox

  She hit the ‘send’ key then got up from the table. Grabbing her equipment—handcuffs, mace, and pistol—and attaching them to her belt.

  Time to get to work.

  And see Derek.

  Now, if only he’d see her.

  “Fat chance of that,” she muttered as she battled the traffic on the expressway.

  Her shoulders slumped. She slowed her car to a stop.

  “He doesn’t even know I exist,” she muttered.

  She heard the DJ on the radio. “So, doctor Jurgenson, you’re saying that there are medical benefits to ‘going commando?’”

  “Why yes. Particularly for women. Vaginal health is one reason. That’s why the ‘jeans patch’ is helpful. It provides a safe, irritant free lining in lieu of underwear for those women who choose not to wear any…”

  HONK!

  Shyra blinked, realizing she was so caught up in the radio show that the cars in front of her started moving.

  She grinned at her irritated fellow drivers. “Don’t get your panties in a snit.”

  Today would be the day… No panty lines. No annoying thongs.

  Maybe Derek would notice.

  Yeah right.

  “When pigs fly,” she muttered as traffic came to a dead halt twenty minutes later.

  She sighed. Time to call Gray’s Bounty Hunters and let them know she’d be late—again.

  It was going to be another loooooooooooooooooong day.

  —

  Mike Grayson poked his head into his brother’s office a few minutes later.

  “Shyra’s stuck in traffic. She’ll be here in a little while.”

  Derek didn’t look up from his computer screen. “That’s the second time this week,” he grumbled.

  Mike walked into Derek’s office and plunked his tall frame into a chair. “Hell, bro, why don’t you just ask her out instead of grumbling and muttering every time I say her name?”

  Derek pinned Mike with a hard stare. “I’ll thank you, little bro, to keep your nose out of my business.”

  Mike smiled. “I think you and Shyra should just get it on. She’s nice. Smart, attractive…”

  Derek sighed. “Why don’t you start an advice column for the lovelorn?”

  Mike grinned, unrepentant. He leaned back in the chair, cradling the back of his head in his hands. “Your boys love Shyra. They light up like candles when she’s around them – and I’d even baby-sit when you take her out.”

  “Which reminds me,” Derek said, his frown changing into a full-fledged scowl. “The last time you babysat, you kept my boys up too late, fed them too much ice cream, let them play too many video games…”

  Dropping his hands, Mike leaned forward in his chair. “They’re only young once, bro, let ‘em have some fun.”

  “They have plenty of fun. They’re involved in soccer, basketball—all kinds of activities.”

  Mike shook his head. “I’m not saying you aren’t doing right by them, it’s just that, well—”

  Derek raised one brow. “Go on. You’ve never been at a loss for words.”

  “Stop punishing them for what Gail did. She walked out, yeah, but you should stop taking it out on the boys.”

  Derek frowned. “How am I punishing them?”

  “A part of you died when Gail walked out. It’s never come back, just like she�
��ll never come back. I think the boys feel like you’re taking it out on them. You’re not there for them emotionally.”

  “What are you? A damned shrink?” Derek sneered.

  But deep inside, he knew Mike was right: it was a repeat of their childhood. Derek’s mother had walked out on him, Mike, and their sister, Jen. Gail had walked out on him. He had enough on his plate raising Mike and Jen almost single-handedly while his father worked, and now he had to do it again. With his own kids.

  “Don’t make the same mistakes Dad made. Be a real father to those boys.”

  He gave Mike a dark look. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Now, if you wouldn’t mind filling me in on the latest bounty, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Mike said. “Lloyd Mender, heir to his family’s plastics fortune, tried and convicted of raping and murdering several women, has taken off for Mexico. The bounty’s one million dollars.”

  Derek fingered the scar on his cheek. “Forget it.” He waved a hand in the air. “I don’t care if the bounty on his head is twenty million dollars.”

  Mike took his hands from his pockets. Leaning his palms on Derek’s desk, he replied, “We could do this. We could get Mender.” He rose to his full height and folded his arms across his chest. “What if it was our sister, Jen, he had raped and murdered…or Shyra? The bastard shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”

  “The last time I chased a felon in Mexico, I almost died, and so did my partner. It’s not worth it.”

  “A million bucks! Split between you, me, Shyra and Jen, that’s a cool two hundred and fifty thousand each. That’s no chump change.”

  “It’s out of the question. Bounty hunting is illegal in Mexico.”

  “And that’s exactly why that scum is there.”

  “He’s psychotic.”

  “He’s a murderer.” Mike’s voice was hard. “He needs his ass hauled back to the U.S. where he can stand trial and get some good old American justice.”

  “Forget it.”

  Mike sighed. “Derek—”

  “Case closed.” Derek replied.

  Mike blew out a breath. “One bounty, with all that money, means no more chasing after these half-ass skip druggies and wife beaters.”

  Derek raised a brow. “Keep in mind: slow and steady wins the race. The more skips we catch, the more our reputation grows.”

  “Catching Mender could put us on the map.”

  “Slow and steady gets us on the map.”

  Mike ran a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of being the goddamned turtle in this race!”

  Derek laughed. “Better to be the turtle. He wins in the end.”

  He glanced at his watch. Where in hell was Shyra?

  Somehow, the day just didn’t seem to start unless Shyra was there. He enjoyed watching Shyra work her magic. She had a knack, a way of drawing out the skips by talking with their wives or girlfriends, sometimes even their parents. Shyra got them to cooperate, and they always got their bounty without a hitch.

  Ah hell…why don’t you just admit that you want to sleep with her? That some days, looking at her beautiful face, her luscious figure and that long dark curly hair was almost painful?

  Maybe he should just do what Mike said, and ask her out.

  Yeah, right.

  “I’ll go see what Jen’s working on.” Mike walked out. He glanced back at Derek. “And stop thinking about Shyra.”

  “Smart ass,” Derek grumbled, then glanced at the emails on his computer screen.

  Narrowing his eyes, he noticed there was one from Shyra.

  He opened the email and read:

  Yeah, I’m going commando, too! No more undies for me. My ass is going to be as naked as the day I was born…”

  “Holy shit!” Derek shot up from his chair, banging his head on the desk lamp. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

  He plunked down in his chair again and re-read Shyra’s email.

  Holy mother of God…

  His dick stood at attention when he imagined Shyra standing in front of him, lifting one of her flirty skirts, showing him her bare ass…

  He’d bend her over his desk and take her, but not until she straddled his lap and…

  “‘Morning, boss!”

  Shyra walked in and placed a container of coffee on his desk.

  He stared at it.

  She frowned. “Look, I know I’m late again, but I didn’t think there’d be any traffic. Its summer, for Christ sake, I mean… it’s summer. Thought everyone would be on vacation—” She angled her head. “What’s wrong?”

  Derek cleared his throat.

  Play it cool, play dumb. Maybe she meant to send that email to someone else, a boyfriend or…

  A spurt of unwanted jealousy tore through Derek.

  No way in hell was he going to let her show off her bare ass and pussy to anyone but him!

  All these damned months, he’d kept his distance, knowing that if he said one word to her about the things he wanted to do to her, she’d probably sue him for sexual harassment.

  Fuck.

  Yeah, well, that’s what he’d like to do…

  “Derek, are you okay?”

  Shyra walked around the desk and stood in front of him. She wore a pair of skin tight, black pants and a snug, black t-shirt that showed off her very nicely shaped size forty double ‘D’ tits. He glanced at her ample hips, trying to discern any panty-lines.

  He was insane!

  “I uh, received this email from you this morning.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What email?”

  A minute went by, and then the email popped out of the printer. “Here.” He handed it to her.

  Her eyes widened as she read, the color draining from her face.

  “I was impressed by your, um, new method—this ‘going commando.’ Do you think we’ll catch more felons that way?” He wondered if he sounded as stupid to her as he did to his own ears.

  “I-I have to sit down.”

  She walked away and eased her body into a nearby chair.

  He got up and walked over to the front of the desk. Leaning a hip against it, he folded his arms across his chest. “So do you think it will work?” He asked.

  She frowned, some of the color returning to her face. “Do I think what will work?”

  “Your new method. Going commando.”

  Shyra opened her mouth then closed it. “Do you mean to tell me that you have no idea what ‘going commando’ means?”

  “Suppose you explain it to me, Shyra.”

  She nodded, turning white as a sheet.

  Chapter Two

  Her heart raced like a runaway train, her pulse skittering out of control. How could she have been so careless? DGrayson and Dbarnard were next to each other in her address book, but she had never mixed them up before.

  Of all the times to start!

  Shyra glanced at Derek’s tall form, clad entirely in black - his usual uniform. Damn, but he was sexy. She narrowed her eyes, peeking surreptitiously at his crotch – his cock stood at attention…

  My ass, he doesn’t know what ‘going commando’ means!

  She blew out a breath and crossed her legs. Smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her pants, she decided it was time to take the reigns and get what she wanted…

  Derek.

  “Would you like me to show you?” she asked, her voice a soft purr.

  Derek unfolded his arms. “What?”

  “Show you. What ‘going commando’ means.”

  “I… uh.” He cleared his throat again.

  A muscle flexed in his nicely sculpted jaw.

  “I’m not sure if, well… you’re going to show me?” He raised both of his dark brows.

  Shyra stood and walked over to shut his office door, locking it.

  “What are you doing?” he growled. Fire leaped into his sherry-colored eyes.

  She strolled close to him, her eyes never leaving his, then grabbed his hand
and placed it on her hip. He sucked in a breath. She slid his palm across her hip, and down her left butt cheek. Shyra felt him tremble.

  “I’m going commando,” she said softly. “No panties, not even a thong.”

  His hand tightened on her ass.

  “Feel how smooth,” she whispered. “How tight my ass is. Derek… I want you.”

  He growled low in his throat. Bending her back over one arm, he kissed the breath from her lungs, delving inside her mouth with his tongue. The kiss was like a hot, moist brand…

  He slowed the kiss, his mouth a gentle, sensual caress against hers.

  A knock on his office door brought the kiss to a halt.

  Shyra pulled away, but not before she saw his eyes. They were filled with golden fire, a promise of more to come.

  She smiled and walked out of his office, her body humming with need, her mind filled with Derek.

  —

  Later that morning, Shyra, Derek, Mike, and the two other bounty hunters Derek employed waited for their latest ‘skip’ outside the Fairview Apartments downtown.

  Derek and the team made their way inside the building to Charlie’s apartment—his last known address—while Charlie-the-druggie’s ex-girlfriend waited in a car, her baby sleeping peacefully in a car seat in the back.

  “You’re positive he’s in the apartment, Susie?” Shyra asked her.

  “He’s there. I spoke to him about ten minutes ago.”

  Leaning into the open door of Susie’s second-hand, beat-up car, she asked, “You’re not shittin’ me, are you? You said you were over him, I’d hate to think you tipped him off, Susie-girl.”

  “H-he’s there. I swear he is.”

  Just then, a young man wearing droopy jean shorts and a turned around baseball cap came out the front door of the apartment building.

  “Is that him?” Shyra whispered under her breath.

  Susie paled. “It is, but I swear, I didn’t say anything to him.”

  Shyra turned and spoke into her cell phone. “Derek, Sanchez just walked out the front of the apartment building.”

  “Keep an eye on him,” he growled into the phone. “We’re coming back down.”

  “Will do.”

  Sanchez approached. “What gives?”