Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica

by Maria Isabel Pita

  ‘If I hadn’t been suspended I would have been on duty the other night,’ his eyes meet hers for an instant that give her a mild electric shock, ‘and I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the Grove.’

  In other words, if three people hadn’t suffered a violent death at an intersection she would have been raped, and maybe even killed herself.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He reaches for her hand. ‘I shouldn’t have reminded you.’

  His fingers are thicker and slightly rougher than Jay’s, and she suddenly relives the moment when he thrust his thumb between her lips.

  ‘Try not to think about it.’

  She smiles. ‘I’m not thinking about that.’

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ He lets go of her hand. ‘If you don’t mind my asking.’

  ‘I’m not thinking about anything.’

  His tone is carefully neutral. ‘Or maybe you’re thinking about the man who left a message on your answering machine.’

  ‘Actually, I was thinking about breaking the law, I mean about the whole concept of breaking the law. How do we know which laws are somehow ultimate truths that have to be obeyed, and which ones are just arbitrary rules society imposes on us to maintain some abstract idea of what is acceptable and what isn’t?’

  ‘Wow, a beautiful girl obsessed with law and order, I think I’m in love. But seriously, Carmen, that’s a rather broad question, and there aren’t any simple answers.’

  Most of the cruise ships are in port, and it always amazes her that the water in the narrow channel where they dock is deep enough to hold them all. The brooding clouds are dispersing, giving way to a coolly radiant November sunshine that sparkles on the pearly water.

  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.’

  ‘I tell her everything. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not.’ She rather enjoys being the center of attention.

  When Linn’s cat eyes fall on Will, Carmen can almost see his pulse speeding up beneath them. ‘You must be the police officer who came to her rescue.’

  �
�I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘You saw those two men drag her into the churchyard?’

  ‘Yes. I was walking up the street a few yards behind her.’ He grabs a hold of his Guinness glass, and stares into the dark liquid as if into that night. ‘I remember thinking she looked like an angel in that white dress. The scumbags who grabbed her wouldn’t have noticed a bomb going off they were so into her. I was wearing black, I was practically invisible, so I followed them, and waited.’

  Mike frowns. ‘You waited?’

  ‘Until they were vulnerable. I wasn’t sure if they were packing, and all I had on me was a knife.’

  Linn’s sexy voice imbues the expression ‘Oh, my!’ with its original reverence.

  ‘Well, I’m sure Carmen would rather not talk about this.’ Mike’s tone brooks no argument, as usual.

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Carmen assures him, fascinated by the realization that Will’s perspective of the event is as real as her own.

  ‘After all, something good came from it,’ Linn observes languidly, her eyes still on Officer Reed.

  ‘Yes.’ Carmen agrees, but her own eyes, dark as the hearts of sunflowers, turn in the direction of Mike’s intensely blond hair.

  Linn’s slender fingers come to rest around the stem of her wineglass, and her thumb, crowned by a long burgundy nail, begins slowly caressing it. ‘How long have you been on the force, Will?’

  ‘Nine years.’

  ‘Have you ever been injured in the line of duty?’

  ‘No, never. I’ve been lucky.’ He doesn’t mention his suspension.

  ‘Is it true that women just throw themselves at you?’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Linn.’ The exasperation in Mike’s voice is just a reflex; he is obviously accustomed to her speaking her mind.

  ‘Yes, it’s true,’ Will answers bluntly.

  Carmen realizes Linn has insulted her, however indirectly, and her blood seems to stop flowing for an indignant moment, in which her relaxed rivalry with the other woman crystallizes into antipathy.

  ‘Do you think it’s the uniform?’ Linn goes on lightly, ‘the aura of power, of controlled violence? You make them feel safe, yet there’s always the exciting threat of punishment if they’re not good girls, isn’t there?’