A second eruption immediately follows the first, followed by a third.
I’m clenched up like I’m trying to lift the heaviest weight in the world with my entire body, which makes no sense because I feel completely free of stress and my exertion has finished.
I feel the cum continuing from my cock as it twitches a few more times inside her. Once I’m completely out I feel her wall relax and her pussy releases its grip on me.
I fall on top of her, completely spent but completely ready to go as soon as she’s ready again.
“That was exactly how I wanted my first time to be,” she says.
I’m breathing hard and my ear is on her chest. I must not have heard her right.
“It was perfect for our first time together.”
“That too,” she says.
I lift my head. “That was your…”
She nods and a big smile covers her face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to give it to you. Sometimes the best surprises are the ones you find out about after,” she says.
“A lot of times,” I say. “And that was definitely a surprise…in the best kind of way.” I roll over onto my back processing what just happened.
“For me too,” she says. She leans over and lays her arm on my chest, wrapping her arm round my shoulder as she cuddles up next to me.
I twist my arm in a weird position, but manage to open the drawer and pull out the receiver of the hotel’s phone.
“What’s that sound?” she says.
“I put the phone in the drawer and unplugged it while you were in the shower,” I say.
“Awww,” she says as she squeezes me even tighter.
I manage to get the cord plugged back in and hit the 0.
“Room service.”
“Bottle of Dom Pérignon, please.”
“Celebrating, sir?”
“I sure am. And this is the kind of celebration that only happens once, but could last a lifetime.”
CHAPTER 31
Violet
One week later
“Something doesn’t seem right,” Chance says.
I stare ahead at the TV while the movie plays. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Charlotte is doing the same.
Chance digs his hand back into his popcorn bowl and scoops up another handful.
“Wait a minute. I taste butter!”
Charlotte let’s out a squeal and jumps up from the couch with her popcorn bowl. She dashes across the room before Chance can get his hands on her. She’s on the other side of the room now in a crouch, ready to quickly dart in any direction if Chance tries to grab her. She sets her popcorn bowl down on an end table and prepares to go either left or right.
“Can you hold this please?” Chance asks. “Sure,” I say. Chance has no idea I’m just as guilty as she is. I suggested the idea and even played lookout while she took half of Chance’s popcorn and split it between our two bowls. Her fingers must have been buttery though. Chance is just a regular salt kind of guy so the butter became our undoing.
Chance darts across the room at her, but leaves a little space so she can slide through. She avoids it entirely and goes right through his legs! She darts upstairs to her room and the second the door shuts we hear the lock engage.
“It was all in my plan,” Chance says as he sits back down on the couch. “Just wanted to have the night all to ourselves.”
“Riiiight,” I say. “You can take the credit if you want, but either way I’m sure not complaining. It’s so fun spending time with you and Charlotte.”
“Yeah, she’s really taken a liking to you,” Chance says as he pops in some more popcorn. “Almost forgot.” He jumps back up and grabs Charlotte’s bowl.
“Well, since she’s not here I guess that means more for me and…wait a second!”
I see Chance looking at my bowl figuring out what really just happened. I jump up from the couch but he’s too quick. He’s got me wrapped up with his hands around my waist as he pulls me back into his lap and we tumble down onto the couch together.
He’s on his back and I’m on top of him.
“Have we tried this position yet?” he asks.
“Twice that I can remember,” I say. “So that probably means about four or five times.”
“Just checking,” he says. “But if there are a couple you can’t remember then I owe it to you to refresh your memory.”
“Oh you do, do you?”
“Yeah, you know…make it up to you. I owe you a couple…in this position, and…” Chance flips me over and now he’s on top. He taps me on the nose with a single popcorn and then kisses me softly. I wish time could standstill like the movie that’s paused, not that I’m paying it much mind.
There’s an entirely different movie playing in my own head and it’s called My Life, and stars Chance, Charlotte, and I. It plays nonstop and no matter how many times it plays I just can’t get enough.
That’s how I feel about this whole situation. I want more. Always more. More time with Chance. More time with Charlotte. And more time as the three of us. Taking Charlotte to the dog parks and art galleries in town has been a blast. It would be a dream one day to have my pictures hang there.
And at this point I believe it just might even be possible one day. Chance makes me feel that way. At some point I almost gave up hope that we’d ever be something, and then one day out of the blue we wind up like this.
“You know I was thinking.”
“You were were you?” I joke.
“I do that from time to time.”
“What’s that?”
“Think.”
I wink and he kisses me on the forehead.
“My old man’s going to be in town tomorrow and if you’re free I think it would be a great time for you to meet him.”
I don’t say anything because I’m not sure what to say. In the excitement of everything I’ve somehow managed to block out his first visit.
“Sorry. My bad!” Chance says jokingly. “I’m moving too fast. I know. We should wait longer until we decide to get our families involved. I just figured since you probably met him when you were a lot younger that it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. I mean it is a big deal, but you two both kind of know about each other.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think we kind of do.” I bite my bottom lip and notice I’m suddenly having a hard time maintaining eye contact. Chance seems to pick up on it right away.
“Viiiiolet,” he says. “Something’s wrong. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I think it will be a great idea, except I think I’m scheduled to work tomorrow.”
“I checked your schedule already. You’re free tomorrow evening so it works out perfectly.”
“Oh,” I say. So much for coming up with a convenient excuse. I guess it’s better this way anyways. As part of my ongoing self-confidence project I need to learn to deal with things head on, and that’s not just limited to strangers on the street.
“What is it? You’re not telling me something.”
“Well. I’ve met your dad before.”
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”
“Maybe not so long ago,” I say.
“This doesn’t sound right. What’s up?”
I take a deep breath and remind myself honesty and transparency are the best policies.
“Well,” I say. “He paid me a visit at work awhile ago.”
“He paid you a visit?”
“Right.”
“At the casino? As in he came into the casino to play, or entertain some politician or businessperson or someone, or he came to see you?”
“He came to see me. It was very clear.”
I can see Chance’s expression changing rapidly. He’s angry and I don’t want that right now, but I expected it and understand it. It’s just that we were having so much fun tonight until now. But if this fun is going to continue we need to get this out in the open.
“He sat down
at my table. He politely, but directly, told me I was too young for you and we weren’t a good match and that maybe I should look elsewhere for romance.”
“He said that?”
“I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist of it.”
“He came in and sat at your table? My dad?”
“Yeah.”
“I completely believe you but it’s just hard to picture my dad inside a casino. I know why too. It’s because that’s totally outside his comfort zone, and exactly where he doesn’t belong especially in regards to what he did. I’m really sorry,” he says.
“No. Definitely don’t be sorry. Please. It’s over and done with. We made our decisions and that’s that.”
“No, it’s not over and done with. I know my dad and how he likes to get involved until he gets things the way he wants…exactly the way he wants. I’m going to put an end to this.”
“Chance, please,” I say.
He reaches for his watch on the table and looks at it. “I’ll call him in the morning. That should rattle his bell.”
“But you don’t have to. Really. Everything’s okay now,” I say. I realize it’s not, but I don’t want Chance getting any angrier than he’s already getting. I’ve never seen him angry before until now, and I can’t say that I like it.
“I’ll take care of it,” he says.
It leaves me wondering if after he’s finished I’ll be the one who’s taking care of him and Charlotte. I want to be the woman of the house here, but his dad’s a very powerful man who’s known for getting his way.
Now I’ve put myself squarely in the middle of his way and that’s not good.
CHAPTER 32
Chance
Years ago
I’m filled with pride as I stand at attention with the other new graduates of the Los Angeles Police Academy. We’re outside in the academy courtyard on another overcast Southern California morning, but the weather doesn’t matter. Our futures are bright and nothing can put a damper on our spirits.
The captain stands before us preparing to read off our names followed by our assignments. I can’t wait to find out where I’m going to be stationed. This is real. This is finally happening. I’m going to be a police officer in the L.A.P.D. During the announcements I have to keep my eyes and ears forward like a statue, but I can sense my buddy Vic a few rows over. We’ve graduated together and if we’re lucky we’ll be stationed together. It’s a long shot, but crazier things have happened.
“Adams!” the captain calls out.
“Yes, sir!” Adams replies.
“Topanga area.”
“Alexander,” the captain’s voice cuts through the morning marine layer like a knife. The guy is a walking, talking, ball of testosterone. It’s no surprise he used to be a Marine Corps drill instructor before joining the L.A.P.D. after eight years in the Corps. “Rampart.”
“Brown!”
I hear the captain calling the names, but I’m having an out of body experience. His words are just passing through my ears. I’m not really processing them at all. I’m just waiting to hear my name called.
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“No need to make it a sir sandwich, Brown. You already graduated.” The captain pauses. “Seventy-seventh Street.” He pauses again. “Now I know why they call it brown-nosing.
It’s hard not to laugh, but we all keep our composure. One of the things I like about being a police officer, or should I say what I’m looking forward to the most now that I’m about to become a real police officer, is the camaraderie. The academy teaches us to work together and build bonds that last for life. Once you’ve put in the grueling work and are prepared to patrol the mean streets of L.A. together with all the seriousness and the gravity of the situation that entails every second, you sure can learn to laugh at just about anything which helps you keep things in perspective. Life is precious. That’s why we do everything we can to protect it.
“Carson!”
“Yes, sir!”
“West Los Angeles,” the captain says. “Watch out for the celebrities,” he adds.
The captain’s got a real sense of humor, but I’m not expecting his next joke.
“Ellis!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Hollenbeck!”
Wait a second. D comes after C. D comes before E. What about Dawson? What about me? Did I get some special assignment? My chest swells with pride and I find a way to stand up even just a little bit taller for the rest of assignment day.
When the captain finishes and everyone starts comparing stations and seeing who’s working with who and offering jokes and congratulations I slide out of the ranks.
“Captain, sir.”
“Yes, Dawson.”
“I didn’t hear my name called, sir.”
“That’s because I didn’t call it.”
I pause.
“Come with me, son.”
Normally I don’t like to be called son, but I respect the captain more than just about anyone on the face of the earth. He’s an old, salty veteran with a Magnum P.I. mustache who lives off his thirty plus cups of coffee a day. The most food anyone’s ever seen him eat in a day is a single sandwich, yet somehow the guy is absolutely huge and absolutely ripped from head to toe.
“Dawson,” he says placing his arm around me and on my shoulder. It’s odd for a captain to do such a thing, and I don’t like the fatherly implications it implies…mostly because I don’t see this ending well for me.
“Son, sometimes things just don’t work out the way we’re expecting.”
I know better than to interrupt the captain. There’s a long pause as we walk back inside the building. Once we’re inside he begins again.
“We don’t have a slot for you right now.”
I feel confused then suddenly I feel my fingers ball up and the tips dig into my palms. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair.
“Something could open up in about a year. We think there’s a good chance then that we can get you in.”
“Yes, sir,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I know you’re angry, Dawson.” The captain stops and I follow his lead. He turns to face me. “But my hands are tied here. That might be hard for you to believe, but it’s true.”
“Yes, sir!” I say with conviction and volume as I’ve always been instructed.
“Unfortunately that’s all I’ve got for you.”
“Yes, sir!” I say. I turn to go. I’m not about to go back to the courtyard. I need to go home, but home is another place I can’t be right now. How is it possible they don’t have anything for me? It makes no sense, except that it does.
“Dawson!” the captain says just as I reach for the long bar of the door to open it and rejoin the civilian world I wanted to protect so badly. I perform an about face.
“Yes, sir!”
“I hear they need officers in Chicago. You’re more than qualified and there can be a good word put in for you if you decide to go that route.”
“Yes, sir!” I say. I don’t know if his words make it better or worse.
“But you didn’t hear that from me,” he says. “We’ll keep an eye on you and do the best we can if we see another state run your file due to an application of yours they received.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Good luck.” The captain nods and turns and walks down the hallway back to his desk.
I never wanted a desk. I wanted to patrol. I wanted to be out in the thick of things making a difference.
And I will make a difference. I promise myself that then right then and there.
And I’m not mad at the captain, but I am mad at his words…”my hands are tied here.”
I know what he means…I know exactly what he means.
CHAPTER 33
Chance
“Governor Dawson is in a meeting!” the receptionist says as I bust through the first door.
He’s got a new trophy receptionist to greet clients I see. A smile any brighter and she’d b
e doing toothpaste commercials on national TV. And if her skirt was cut any shorter she’d be answering 1-900 numbers, and not the number of the governor from California.
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