by Amy Love
"Alright," she told him, sounding a little worried. "Would you really shoot him?"
"Hope it doesn't come to that. If it does, then I fucked up somewhere big time. But yes, I really would, and I wouldn't lose any sleep over it either. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"
"What was that about my car?"
Elias described the parts she didn't hear.
"Elias, you are just going to piss him off. Cops look out for each other. They really, really do."
"True, and I know this from personal experience. Like I said, I was military police in Afghanistan. But there are a few things cops really hate from their own: one is being a wife beater, and the other is being a stalker. It makes them all look bad. He'll have much less support when it gets around that he is using resources from the force to harass you."
"You really believe that?"
"No, I know that. Belief has nothing to do with it. The only thing worse is a cop who is a rapist, or child molester. Now, breakfast?"
"Do you have to wear the gun now?"
"No, just wanted you to see I had it, and that I mean to use it if necessary. I plan on keeping you safe as long as you are here, and for several weeks after you leave. By the way—I think twenty dollars a day, plus twenty to chip in for food and drinks would be reasonable, don't you?"
"Um, yeah, sure. Isn't that a little bit cheap?"
"I wouldn't charge you anything, but you strike me as a woman who likes to pay her own way, so you would feel better paying something. This way, we can both be happy and save face, and get down to important matters."
"Like what?"
"Like swimming in the pool, sun bathing, work, and breakfast. Did I mention breakfast already?"
She laughed, and he liked the sound of it.
"Yes Elias, you mentioned that. Eggs? Bacon? Juice?"
"Got all three. Put your feet up, and I'll throw something together. How about a cheese omelet?"
"Oh, that sounds perfect," she gushed with a smile.
"There is also a hot tub out back. Sunscreen is in the small cabinet by the bike."
"I don't have a suit."
"Go naked."
"What?"
"The fence is high. No one will see you, and I'll be in the office which faces the other way. You'll be all alone. I do it all the time. I'll get one of my t-shirts, black, so you can throw that on when you get out of the water, or stop sun bathing. Seriously, treat yourself this morning. We'll head over to Larry's at one. I'll be working until then, and oblivious to everything else."
"Hmmm. I think you are just trying to get me naked,"she said playfully.
"I would like to protest, but the thought does have its appeal. However, you have already made it very clear what your boundaries are, and I will respect them."
"Why?" she asked, seeming serious.
"You haven't lied to me yet. You haven't told me the whole story, but you haven't lied. Keep that up, and I'll keep my end up. Deal?"
She searched his eyes. "I don't know what to think about you, Elias. I want to trust you, I really do, but it runs contrary to previous experience to trust anyone. But, yes, deal."
"Good, I'll get some breakfast together, and we can start our day," he said. "Oh, you said you know how to ride, yes?"
"Yep," she agreed.
"We'll stop by Duffy's then on the way home and see if his loaner Sporty is available then. That way you'll have some wheels to go shopping or whatever."
"You don't want me riding on the back of your bike?" she asked.
"Mine is a V-rod, single seat."
"Bet that went over well with Shelly," she said with a grin.
"Didn't have it then. Bought it after. Like I said, we are kind of in the same boat in that area. Not really looking."
"Well, be that as it may, it would be nice to ride again. I always loved riding. In fact, I almost bought a bike before I bought the Shelby."
"Shelby?" He whistled. "Nice."
"Oh, it is. Very nice."
CHAPTER SIX
Detective Tomas Brick came into the office at five on the nose and walked toward his desk. Just as he was about to turn out of the main isle to his area, a large man stepped up to him and asked, "Are you Detective Tomas Brick?"
"Yes."
"You have hereby been served a restraining order against you, including stay-away locations, in regards to Ms. Chelsea Shore for physical and mental abuse. Have a nice day."
The man handed him the papers and strode off.
Tomas looked around. The floor was between shifts, so it was packed with people coming on and going off, and most of the people in the area were now looking at him. They shifted their gaze as he scanned the room, but they all heard what the man said.
"Motherfucker," he hissed as he walked to his desk. Slamming down into his chair he opened the papers and, sure enough, there was the restraining order, and five addresses that he was not to come within five hundred feet of. Also, he was not allowed to call, write, or contact those places in any way, or have them contacted on his behalf. The order was for thirty days, at which time a hearing would be held to see if there was cause to extend the order for a year.
"If that bitch thinks this paper means shit, she's got another thing coming," he spat.
His partner, Mike Wilson, briefly looked up from his reading and then back down at the case notes he was going over.
"What?" Tomas asked him.
"You break that order, and I'll probably have a new partner the next day. Don't be stupid."
Tomas was about to cuss him out, but snapped his mouth shut. This wasn't the place to lose his cool, and his partner was right—in a way. In another way, he was dead wrong. That bitch is dumber than I thought, he hissed to himself.
If he could talk to her, then maybe he could get her back and work things out. But since that wasn't an option now, well, she couldn't just walk around with the stuff she had in her head and the fifty grand she stole from him when she left, now could she? No, she couldn't. So… that didn't leave very many options open did it? Nope, not many at all.
On top of that, despite all he had told her about man-hunting, she gave him five addresses—all in the North Huston area—telling him exactly where she was. Where she was living, where she was working, where her doctor was, and whatever this other place was. Gynecologist? Whatever, it didn't matter. One address was all he needed.
He knew she was still in the area. The black and whites picked up her car this afternoon, and she didn't leave on a plane or train. With her sweet ass, she might have hitchhiked, but that was unlikely. She was a mouse. She would have been too scared to hitchhike.
The closest public bus line stop to her car was the 108, which went up to North Houston. So he already had a feeling for where she was held up. She wouldn't stay outside on the street. Checking the hotels would be the first thing he would do, though he doubted that he would find her in one of those. From the looks of things, she shook her pretty sweet ass and hooked a cowboy to take her in. Selling pussy was easy enough, and it seemed she took to it without hesitation. It was probably this cowboy's idea to get the restraining order.
Her car was impounded as a possible getaway vehicle for a drug deal gone to murder case on his desk. So, she was on foot. Of course, with fifty grand of his money she could easily buy another car. But it gave him some satisfaction to take from her the thing she valued most: her Shelby. It was like yanking off one of her tits.
"Get some coffee and calm down. We got a new one, just came in. We roll in fifteen," his partner told him.
Mike Wilson was coming up on retirement. He had twenty-four years in Narc, and was basically famous on the floor. He knew his shit. Damn good detective. Well, not so good that Tomas couldn't work around him, but he was good at catching drug dealers and closing cases. His only real flaw was that he believed. Mike believed in the system, in the brotherhood, and in his partner. All of which was complete bullshit. So, if a few kilos of coke didn't show up at the locker out of fifty,
well, Mike figured the count was right, because after all, his partner counted the haul. If a few thousand in bills didn't make the same trip, well, same logic, same belief.
"Yeah, alright. I'm going to get a coke—you want one?" Tomas asked.
"Naw, I'm good. Just walk it off. You ain't the first with bitch problems. Hell, I've had three of those things delivered to me in the last twenty years. Do what I do. Pin it up in the bathroom so you can look at it during those special moments on the shitter and forget about it," Mike told him.
Tomas got up and threw the papers on his desk. "Sounds like good advice. I'll do exactly that. Fuck her. Wasn't going to go near her anyway."
"Exactly," Mike agreed.
"I'll be back in ten," Tomas told him, and walked toward the break room. Inside he pulled out his phone while buying a cola and called his real partner, James Stewart—probation officer and fellow criminal.
"Hey, what's up?" James asked.
"Bitch sent me a restraining order. Can you believe that shit?"
"Wow. That's ballsy. Didn't think she had it in her."
"Well, I'll take care of her. We're going to need a new mule. Anyone with a nice ass on your docket?"
"Got a Mex with a cute butt. Not like Chelsea's, but cute enough to fuck. I think we can bring her in. She even feels like she would get into it," James told him.
"Good. Feel her out, but don't make any moves until I deal with Chelsea," Tomas told him.
"Sounds good. Later partner."
"Later."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Chelsea woke up at nine on Saturday morning and put on the short blue satin robe she purchased, then padded barefoot out to the kitchen. Last night was a good time. Really good. Elias took her out dancing at a place a few miles away that had a house rock band. The music was good and Elias turned out to be a fun dance partner. They took the bikes, and it was a sweet time all around. She couldn't remember the last time a man took her dancing. Probably high school.
Riding the Sporty was a dream. She had to admit that she enjoyed it more than driving the Shelby. In a car the world passed by like it was on a screen. On a bike, you were part of the world around you. Part of the night, part of the city, and part of the man next to you as you rode down the boulevard. The dual thunder from their pipes was heaven, and the purring vibration of her engine—magical.
She was inches from kissing him goodnight. The urge to do so was near compulsion. If she had kissed him, she would probably be waking up in his bed right now instead of the guest room.
Chelsea floated into the kitchen and put together a pot of coffee, and then looked in the fridge for something she could make for breakfast. She wasn't much of a cook, but she could do scrambled eggs and sausage. She found both, smiled, and took out the ingredients. After finding a skillet, she set to preparing the morning meal, humming a song they danced to last night.
Yesterday Larry had Tomas served with the law suit papers. That probably sent Tomas through the roof, and the thought was a thrill to her heart. Larry told her that he would have her car out of the impound yard and delivered to Duffy's garage on Monday. She had a whisper of a doubt that he would be able to deliver when he told her that, but this morning—well, anything seemed possible. The world seemed possible. Hell, even sex with the good-looking man sleeping in his room at the moment seemed possible.
It had been over a year since she had sex with someone that she wanted to have sex with. During that year she was property, little more than a sex doll available for use, with no will to say no. It was as damaging to her as it was humiliating. But this morning, she felt nearly whole again.
"It's the naked sunbathing, that's what it is," she said with a smile as she cracked eggs and set to whipping them.
"I thought you bought a suit," Elias said behind her as he walked into the kitchen.
She smirked. "I did, but I like being naked back there. It feels good. You were right."
"I have my moments," he agreed. "Thanks for making the coffee."
"Scrambled eggs and sausage will be ready in a few. How are you feeling?"
"Good. Probably not as chipper as you, but good all the same. Glad you enjoyed yourself last night. Seemed like you haven't had a good night out in some time."
"That's an understatement," she agreed with a laugh. She looked over her shoulder and found his eyes on her ass. She gave her ass a little wiggle and saw his eyes go wide and then jump up to hers. "Caught you," she told him.
"Dead to rights," he laughed. "Sorry, but that robe does things for me."
"Well, good. Because you do things for me."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"Hmm," he said, sitting down with his coffee.
"I know,” she told him with a sigh, “I've made the boundaries. So, it falls to me to break them."
"What does that mean?" he asked warily.
"It means that last night I could have kissed you, and meant every bit of it, and loved every morsel. It's true that I wasn't interested in anything with anyone. But, well, I like you. And I haven't liked anyone for a long time. A very long time. It isn't just the room, or the protection or your chivalry. It is you. I like you."
"Which probably means we are awful for each other, because I like you too. Very much in fact."
"You are probably right, but… no, let's just leave it at that for now, alright? I'm not in the mood for anything heavy right now."
"Sounds like a very good idea," he agreed. "The club is going for a ride today, starting at eleven. Want to go with us?"
"Oh fuck yes!" she said, and did a little dance. "Where are we going?"
"Does it matter?"
"Hell no, just curious," she replied.
"We're going to run down to Galveston, sit on the water, tell lies, drink beer, and look at women in bikinis."
"I'll be sure to bring mine, then, so you can look at me." She smiled.
"What I'm seeing right now is enough to wake the dead. Seeing you in a bikini might be too much for that chivalry you were just talking about," he mused.
"Good," she laughed.
"You really are in a good mood, aren't you?"
"I am in a fantastic mood," she said with a nod and a grin. Then she felt him behind her, and then felt his hands on her waist.
"How good?" he asked.
"Getting better all the time," she said, and leaned back into his chest.
His lips on her neck sent wondrous shivers down her spine, and into her thighs. "Oh, fuck that felt good. Do that again."
He did.
She turned around, and put her arms around his neck. "Kiss me, please?"
"Love to," he told her.
The kiss was everything a kiss should be between a man and a woman.
"I'm not quite ready for sex—is that alright? I don't want to be a tease,” she told him after their lips parted.
"You aren't, and yes, it's just fine with me. I'm not quite there myself. But you are glowing, and wearing this robe, and all naked and warm under it, so I had to do something."
"I'm so glad you did," she sighed. She leaned into his chest, kissing his pecks through is t-shirt, and then lifted up to kiss his lips. "So very glad you did."
"Breakfast might burn if you don't turn back around."
"Let it. I'll buy you something at the Log Cabin before the run," she murmured.
He smiled but reached around her and turned the heat down. "Now we have time for at least one more before that is required."
"You think of everything," she said, and kissed him again. This time he took her into his arms and embraced her, exploring her tongue and mouth with his. She whimpered at the heat rising inside of her, radiating out across her thighs, up her abs, and flushing across her breasts with scarlet.
"I am so going to wear that bikini under my leathers and jeans," she said with a smirk.
"I'm so going to make a fool of myself staring at you," he returned with a smirk of his own.
"Will you swim naked with me when we ge
t back?" she asked.
"I'll go into the hot tub with you—how's that?"
"Perfect," she sighed, and turned around to finish breakfast, deciding that she really did want to make breakfast for him like they were as domestic as she was feeling right now. She rubbed her butt into his thighs. "Shoo, I want to do this," she told him.
