The Strong, Silent Type

by Patricia Green

  He grunted acknowledgement, then took off his hat and strode to her couch to sit down.

  While she was in the bathroom, Mae brushed both her hair and her teeth. Fortunately, this morning she didn't need to camouflage dark circles under her eyes. Since she'd killed the robber, her feelings of violation made sleep difficult.

  She considered pausing to put on some clothes, but her robe was modest enough and she had the feeling that Drake had planned something that didn't require fancy attire.

  He was licking powdered sugar off his fingers when she came back out.

  "Thanks for bringing breakfast. Want me ta make some coffee?"

  "Not really."

  Mae felt the heat of his stare and her cheeks warmed. "Why're you here? Were you wanting ta test out those condoms?"

  He patted his lap. "Maybe. Come sit with me."

  She wanted to, but she wasn't entirely sure it was the wise thing to do. Her plan had been to head to Las Vegas today and start looking for Lindy Oldman. She was anxious to get started. Still, she could afford some time with him. She just hoped he didn't want to go into the bedroom where her suitcase lay open, half-packed.

  Mae climbed onto his lap and snuggled into his chest, enjoying his arms around her. He cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her face up for a kiss. His lips were firm and dry, in opposition to the sinuous moistness of his tongue as it glided over her teeth and then wrestled with her own. His cheeks were smooth from a recent shave. She felt like she could kiss him forever, and that feeling was enhanced by the warmth of his hand sliding into her robe to cup a breast.

  She moaned without thinking, as he tweaked a hardening nipple. Although her robe was thick, she could feel his arousal pressing against her behind. He was full of temptations: kisses, caresses, the anticipated feel of his cock in her pussy. But she was enjoying his kisses. He tasted like raspberry jelly, so sweet and potent. When he moved his mouth to her throat, she tilted her head back and arched. As his lips and tongue progressed down to her chest, he squeezed her breast firmly and pure desire jolted her from her core outward.

  He untied her robe and opened it as he went back to kissing her mouth. She was drowning in sensation, and he only added to her gasping loss of control when his hand cupped her mound gently.

  She panted against his lips as they paused.

  "Mae."

  Reaching down, she guided his hand further between her legs and pressed his fingers against her wet folds. She had no words for the sensations she knew he could bring forth, so she just coaxed him with her hand against his.

  "Let's go in the bedroom."

  She stopped abruptly, a tiny blossom of panic in her chest. If he saw her suitcase there, he'd wonder where she was going. He'd be mad if he knew her plan.

  "Here's not okay?"

  He grunted in the negative.

  Mae cajoled his fingers again, hoping to distract him. "I don't want ta move. I want it here, now." Her fingers trembled against his hand.

  He kissed her harder and she responded in kind, more confident that he'd forget about the bedroom and focus his efforts right where they sat.

  Drake slid his hands under her knees and around her ribs, then stood up, carrying her in his arms as though she was a stuffed animal. Mae reveled in his strength as his biceps flexed visibly beneath the sleeves of his shirt. But, appealing as he was, she couldn't let him take her into the bedroom.

  "No, Drake. The bedroom is a mess. I'd be embarrassed ta have you go in there."

  He stared down at her, his black eyes assessing. "Have you got a spare man in there, Mae?" He said it with a grin, so she knew he was kidding.

  She smacked his shoulder playfully. "No, silly. It's just got girl stuff all over. I need ta do laundry, that kind of thing. You wouldn't like it anyway. It's all eyelet and perfumed and frilly. I'm sure a guy like you would--"

  Drake grunted, but began to carry her toward the hallway and the bedroom beyond. "I don't care if you're not a good housekeeper, Mae. You have a bed."

  "Please?"

  He paused at the hall archway, only footsteps from the bedroom door. "What are you hiding, woman?"

  "Hiding?" Her voice squeaked so she cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm not hiding anything."

  "You are," he said, putting her down on her feet. He took two steps into the hall and swung open the bedroom door. One more step and then, "Mae! Where the hell are you going?"

  Mae cringed. "It's not your business."

  "Are you trying to get away from me?"

  "No!" She followed him into the room and confronted him, hands on his pecs. A little shove but he didn't move. "Out!"

  "I'm not a dog that you can order, Mae." He pointed toward the suitcase. "You are obviously going somewhere. Where are you going?"

  "Not far. And just for a few days."

  "Las Vegas? Reno? Kingman? Where?"

  "Las Vegas."

  "You weren't going to tell me?"

  As annoyed as she was by his insistence, she felt warm inside at the idea that he cared as much as his voice said he did. "Well...no."

  He ran his fingers through his hair, looking from the suitcase to her and then back again. "You didn't think I'd wonder where you'd got off to?"

  It hadn't actually occurred to her, and she felt rather inconsiderate. "You really care?"

  "Hell yes."

  "I care about you, too. That's why I was going ta Las Vegas."

  He frowned. "You care about me so you're leaving without telling me. What the hell does that mean?"

  "I...uh...I was going ta go look for Lindy Oldman."

  His eyebrows shot up. "You were chasing my cousin?"

  "Yeah." She quickly explained. "I thought it would be too awkward for you ta search for her, being her cousin and all. So I wanted ta go ta Vegas and find her and convince her ta turn herself in ta you."

  His frown was even darker this time. "You realize that Lindy is considered an armed and dangerous criminal."

  Actually, she hadn't thought about that either. Lindy likely didn't want to be caught. "She might listen to reason, woman-ta-woman."

  "Or she might cut your throat to get rid of the single witness to her crime." He took her arms and gave her a little shake. "What were you thinking, woman?"

  She hung her head, chagrined. It had been a rather bubble-brained idea, now that she thought about it. "I'm sorry."

  He looked around the room, his swivel pausing at the suitcase. A moment later, he had the suitcase carry strap wrapped around his hand and was testing it against his palm.

  "Drake. What are you doing?"

  He sat on the bed and patted his lap. "Drop your robe and come lay across my lap."

  It appeared that he was going to whack her with the strap. She took a step backward. "No."

  "You don't deserve it?"

  She probably did, but was she going to go like a lamb to the slaughter? She pivoted on her toes. "Maybe. But I won't cooperate, you bully!"

  Barefoot, robe flapping, she took off out of the bedroom and down the hall. She didn't know where she was going, or how she was going to evade him, but she'd intended to go to Las Vegas to help him. That had to count for something.

  It took him maybe five steps to catch the bottom edge of her robe under his foot. But Mae was on a tear now, so she shrugged out of the garment and continued around to the kitchen where she crawled into the broom closet and quietly closed the door.

  "Goddamn it, Mae!" he shouted.

  She could hear him stomping through the apartment, coming closer. He had to know that she wouldn't rush out the exterior kitchen door naked as a mole rat, but he didn't know where all the closets were. She waited, feeling more and more stupid as the seconds passed. First she'd had a wild hair about finding Lindy, and now she'd run away from a discipline spanking that she richly deserved. When he caught her, he was going to spank her 'till she was purple.

  Maybe she should just come out and ask for mercy.

  Timidly, she opened the broom closet
door an inch. The apartment was quiet. She opened the door further and took a step into the kitchen. He didn't rush out to grab her, and there was no sign of him nearby. Could he have been so annoyed with her that he left? Could she have screwed up so big that she'd forced the end of their relationship?

  It was a dismal thought.

  She tiptoed out of the kitchen and into the dinette. He was sitting in her living room rocking chair, calm as you please. The strap lay across his lap.

  "Drake?"

  He grunted.

  "I'm sorry."

  He rocked silently.

  "Are you going ta spank me?"

  "Aha."

  She squirmed and mentally reprimanded her nipples for getting hard at the thought.

  "What if I say no?" She wouldn't say no, of course. Her body was already tingling with anticipation.

  "Then I'll leave."

  "Leave? You mean forever? Or just until you aren't angry anymore?"

  "Don't know."

  She didn't want the relationship to end. Especially on such a sour note. And she really was crazy about him, even his spankings.

  "Please don't leave," she said softly. "I deserve the spanking."

  "Yup." He stood up and pointed. "Go into the bedroom."

  "Okay." She dragged her feet, dreading the inevitable but feeling an equal amount of pleasant excitement. He followed her into the room and sat on the bed.

  "Lie face down on the bed."

  "On the bed? Not over your knees?"

  "Mind, Mae. I won't tell you again."

  The bedclothes felt cool against her breasts and belly as she lay in the middle of her bed.

  "Put a couple of pillows under your hips."

  The idea was humiliating, but her pussy buzzed and got wetter. She didn't question his order, but did as she was told this time. The pillows forced her butt into the air.

  "I'm sorry, Drake," she said against the satin comforter.

  "I believe you, babe." The strap came down a moment later and Mae gasped at the sharp sting across her bottom. "I don't want you to..." He swung the strap against her bottom again twice. "...try to help me with my job."

  She cried out into the comforter.

  The pain in her ass flared like a roman candle as he swatted her several more times with the strap. "I'm trained to do my job, Mae."

  Tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She felt every stripe as he slashed across her sit spots five times.

  "You're not trained to do it."

  Her thighs felt like they were singed after he struck her again and again. "Did you think I was so incompetent that I couldn't deal with this problem?" She was crying hard by this time, and her throat felt raw from the screams she forced into the bed. At the same time, her pussy was hot with excitement, with unmet need.

  She turned her head and begged. "Please, Drake, no more. Please!"

  He spanked her a few more times. "I want to make sure you learn this lesson, Mae." The strap whooshed down with a preceding puff of air. "You are not..." Whoosh! "...to ever, ever..." Whoosh! "...put yourself..." Whoosh! "...in harm's way like that again!"

  "I won't! I promise!" She felt like she was blubbering, and yet her clit was throbbing. She didn't understand how misery and arousal could be so tied together, but she didn't care.

  She heard the light plop as he tossed the strap away. The bed jiggled as he sat on the edge. May was sobbing into the comforter, her behind and thighs on fire, but she wanted nothing so much as to feel his arms around her. She wanted to know that the conflict was over, that she was safe and...and loved.

  His rough hand smoothed, hot against her rear. "You've got some stripes, babe."

  "Am I bleeding?" she asked on a hiccough.

  He laughed. "No, of course not. I wouldn't do that to you."

  "It hurts."

  "Come sit in my lap."

  Gingerly, she moved over to him and crawled into his lap. Her butt protested the encounter with his jeans, but, aside from gasping, she didn't complain. His arms wrapped around her and held her close.

  "Cuddle up."

  She hiccoughed and squeezed closer.

  "I guess we'll have to try out those condoms next time, sweetheart."

  "Not now?" Her pussy registered a definite cry of outrage.

  "It's late already and I have to get to work."

  "Oh." It was her own fault for being so foolish and starting an altercation. "Can we maybe get together tonight after work?"

  He laughed. "That's my girl."

  His little comment meant so much to her. She was his girl. His. He didn't even know she loved him. But she did.

  Chapter Five

  One week plus one day after the attempted robbery, Drake got the toxicology reports on Lloyd Canto. Much as he expected, the man had been hopped up on methamphetamine. It was likely that Lindy was as well. The girl had dug herself a deep pit and then fallen in with the snakes at the bottom.

  Drake couldn't go alone to Las Vegas to corner Lindy because of the conflict of interest. He'd have to work with the BIA security team at the reservation. That was not a problem, they were all good people, but as he was thinking about which one he should call, he got a call from the Las Vegas Police Department.

  The officer calling had a pleasant female voice, calm and professionally friendly. "We have your suspect, Chief."

  "Lindy Oldman?"

  "Yes. She's in the hospital right now. She OD'd on something so she's in the incarceration wing at Las Vegas General."

  Lindy's situation just seemed to get worse and worse. "How bad off is she?"

  "Serious but stable. She's conscious most of the time."

  "Attempted suicide?"

  There was a pause. "We saw those scars on her wrists and asked her about the OD. She says it was a mistake, not a suicide attempt. The psych people are still asking questions."

  Drake tried not to let the gloomy state of affairs get to him. "I'll get a BIA officer and we'll be there in a couple of hours."

  "Gotcha."

  "Thanks."

  "DEA will likely send someone around to try to coax some dealer info from her."

  It was going to be a clusterfuck. "I'll strap on my patience and wait for my turn."

  "Smart man."

  They rung off. Drake would be awfully glad to get things with Lindy straightened out, but he knew it wasn't going to end entirely with her capture. There would be a trial, in which both he and Mae would have to testify.

  Once Lindy was safely in jail, though, he thought maybe he and Mae might be able to deal with the issue of their relationship. They were getting closer and closer, and she deserved better than to hide and sneak.

  He reminisced about their early morning encounter, and thought about how disappointing it was that they wouldn't be able to get together that night as they'd hoped. He was going to be stuck in Las Vegas until late at night, possibly overnight, as things got straightened out among all the law enforcement agencies and jurisdictions. Everyone would want his piece of the pie and Drake would have to represent Fire Gorge's interests.

  He wondered if Mae realized what a hold she had over him. Sure his libido was involved, but it was a match to tinder. The basic makings for a relationship were there already. She was a good person, a person with courage and gumption. Her chattering was adorable, coaxing a few extra words past his usually rigid control. She could be a bit impulsive and short-sighted, as with the Las Vegas idea, but she was very well-meaning.

  Everything about her made him push aside the cynicism that all cops wore like armor after years on the job. He was, he realized, falling in love with Mae. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced but once before and that had ended badly. Things with Mae could fall apart, too, if he didn't handle them correctly. He had to deal with Lindy's issues. Then Mae's father needed some attention.

  * * *

  Drake was in Las Vegas, so their date was postponed indefinitely. She hoped things with Lindy worked out. It was disturbing to think that
maybe the girl was so distraught as to have attempted suicide for a second time. Although Mae had nightmares over the event, she didn't want more dead people on her conscious. Suicide hurt more than just the person who died; it was the family who suffered longest. Mae's own family had been touched by suicide, though it had happened long before Mae was born.

  Mae stared at the unopened box of condoms wondering if they'd ever be used. The spanking that morning had really revved her engines. Her bottom had recovered quite well, but her pussy was out-of-sorts and reacted strongly to every stray thought of the handsome police chief. Though she'd made arrangements to go back to work the next day, Mae had taken advantage of her day off at the store. She had her hair trimmed and got waxed pretty much all over. While she'd been at the salon, she had her nails done, each red fingernail sporting a white heart in the middle. She drove to Campbellville to buy a new dress at the mall there. Primped and lotioned and perfumed, she was ready for a big date.

  Now what was she going to do? Talk about all dressed up and nowhere to go!

  When the phone rang, her immediate surge of delight was because she was sure it was Drake. He was undoubtedly calling because he felt bad about their date and wanted to make sure she wasn't mad at him.

  Her voice was bubbly with excitement when she answered. "Hi!"

  "Hello yourself."

  It was a woman's voice. Familiar, but Mae couldn't quite place it. "Can I help you?"

  "It's Virginia Swet Gionta, Mae."

  Virginia was, if anything, Mae's arch enemy. The mayor's daughter had relentlessly teased Mae all though grade school about just about everything Mae had no control over. Her hair, more than anything else, seemed to elicit Virginia's harsh comments.

  "Virginia. I don't think we have anything ta talk about."

  "Sure we do: Drake Stillwater."

  What possible reason would Virginia have for bringing Drake up? "I don't know what you mean."

  Virginia laughed. "Come on, carrot top, don't be coy. You're sleeping with him and we both know it."

  "That's not true, Virginia. What makes you think so?"

  "I saw him leaving your apartment this morning. Saw his big, red truck parked in the street. Saw him getting into it after screwing you. He still had a bulge in his pants. You obviously couldn't get him off."