by S. J. Lewis
Claudia watched her sprint away across the wide expanse of lawn, a short, chunky woman who could nevertheless move pretty damned fast when she had to. She bit her lip, wanting to follow along so badly, but she’d put too much effort into cultivating a good relationship with the police, and Sanchez in particular. She did follow for a few steps to get a better view of what was going on. Uniformed police, half a dozen of them, had appeared from their hiding places and were closing in on their pre-designated toadstools. Each one carried a powerful flashlight, and as they ran, the beams from those flashlights wavered around like a lunatic light show.
“Police! Halt!” the bellowed command reached her, faintly. Two flashlight beams zeroed in on one particular spot, but it was too far away for Claudia to see clearly what was going on. “Out! Out! Hands up! Move it!”
A man seemed to emerge from the ground, one hand raised, the other probably gripping the ladder as he climbed out. Claudia took a few more steps forward, wanting to see…
***
“You fucking bitch!”
The voice came from behind her, low, angry, full of venom. Moving slowly and carefully, Claudia turned. The first thing that crossed her mind was that only Philip K. Shepperton would be skulking around at night in a neat three-piece suit. He had a gun pointed at her head, and his face was a mask of rage.
He was too far away to try to rush him or kick the gun out of his hand, and anyway she didn’t know if he was any good with that 9mm or not. Her throat felt very dry. She swallowed. Sanchez had insisted that she not come armed herself.
“Mr. Shepperton!” she smiled. “Good news! We’ve solved your case.”
“Smartass bitch!” he snarled. He thumbed the hammer back, taking aim….
“I wouldn’t.” This voice was pitched low, but carried remarkably. It came from the cover she and Sanchez had been sharing. Shepperton jumped as if he’d been shot himself, and whirled to face whoever had spoken. There was a dull, hollow “Thunk!” and Shepperton took two faltering steps backwards, firing the gun wildly into the air before dropping it, and then collapsing onto the ground. Claudia reacted, dashing to the fallen gun and securing it. That done, she stepped out of Shepperton’s reach…although with his head bleeding like that it was unlikely that he was going to be an immediate problem to anybody. She faced towards the cover, holding the gun in two hands, pointed down.
“Come on out,” she ordered.
“Okay, Red. Just don’t shoot me.” And Sam stepped out of the cover, hands held shoulder high, smiling.
“You!” Claudia exploded. “What the hell were you doing following me?”
“Well, I was kinda hoping to get a chance to talk to you after this was all over,” he said. “Then I saw this character sneaking up. I thought I should keep an eye on him. Guess I was right.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Oh, just beaned him with a rock. He should be okay, but he’s going to have one mother of a headache.”
Behind her, Claudia could hear shouts, and she knew that Sanchez would be pounding her way back here with help in tow.
“Can I put my hands down now, Red? I’ll be good.”
“You bastard!” Claudia snarled, and then she laughed. “Okay, okay, you can put your hands down. Just don’t go anywhere. You’re a witness now.”
“Sure, Red,” he grinned at her. “Who is that jerk, anyway?”
Before Claudia could answer, Sanchez arrived with two patrolmen, all with guns drawn. One of the patrolmen pointed his gun at Sam, who obligingly raised his hands again, looking somehow amused.
“Geez, Cole, I can’t leave you alone for a minute! What happened? Who’s this?” she indicated Shepperton’s limp body. “You shoot him?” The other patrolmen knelt to check for a pulse.
“No, I didn’t,” Claudia replied as she put the safety on the recovered pistol. “He was going to shoot me, but he missed.” Letting the automatic dangle from her index finger, she handed it over to Sanchez. “Check for powder residue if you want. I won’t have any, but he will.”
Sanchez took the gun on her own outstretched index finger and handed it off to the policeman still covering Sam. “Here, take this and bag it,” she said. “Evidence.” The officer looked at Sam dubiously for a moment before holstering his pistol and taking the 9mm gingerly with a pencil through the trigger guard instead of his own finger.
“He’s okay, Sergeant,” The patrolman checking Shepperton said, looking up. “Just a nasty scalp wound.”
“Call an ambulance anyway,” Sanchez ordered over her shoulder as she strode over towards Sam. “And who the fuck are you, you big, ugly sonofabitch?” she demanded, craning her neck to look up at him.
“Red?” he looked past Sanchez at Claudia. “You wanna tell her? She scares me.”
“He’s an acquaintance of mine.” Claudia offered.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Sanchez demanded. “You invite him or something?”
“No, ma’am, she didn’t,” Sam spoke up. “Truth is, I was just hanging around over yonder,” he waved towards where Claudia’s car was parked, out of sight. “When I saw that guy. He was just driving through, I think, but when he saw Red’s car, he stopped and got out. I saw him draw a gun, so I thought I should maybe follow him. Good thing I did. He was gonna shoot Red.”
“Red?” Sanchez looked puzzled. “Who’s Red?”
“Ah…that’s me,” Claudia said, feeling her face redden. “He calls me Red.”
Sanchez turned to face her. “Uh-huh,” she nodded, looking at Claudia’s hair. “And what do you call him?”
“Sam…” Claudia began, realizing she didn’t know his last name.
“Sam Pender, ma’am,” Sam interrupted. “Like I said, she didn’t know I was here.”
Sanchez chuckled. She pointed at Shepperton, where the first patrolman was applying a compress to his bleeding head. “You did that, Sam Pender?”
“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded. “Just bounced a little rock off his skull so he wouldn’t shoot Red.”
“Uh-huh,” Sanchez turned back to Claudia. “You got two minutes to clear out of here, Cole. You and your ‘acquaintance’ here.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Sam. “But I want to see the two of you in my office tomorrow morning, you hear?”
Claudia nodded, noting that Sanchez was trying to look angry while fighting back a smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam agreed.
“Good. Now get the hell off of my crime scene!”
***
Claudia began walking. As she strode past Sam, she said: “Follow me.” Without looking at him. She kept on walking, down the hill to where her car was parked. There was another car there, presumably Shepperton’s.
“How did you get here?” she asked Sam as she reached her car.
“Got a rental parked a ways over there,” Sam gestured.
“Go get it,” she ordered. “And follow me.”
He looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged and ambled off. A few minutes later, she saw headlights pull up behind her. She started her car, and drove off.
He could tell she was probably going back to her apartment. Well, that was fine with him, but she was acting kind of peculiar. He couldn’t tell if she was pissed at him or not, but she did seem awfully intense. Maybe she wanted to give him an earful back at her place? He chuckled to himself. Red always was a little hard to read. He’d go along. If she wanted to holler at him for a while, he’d let her. She still looked good, and the way she’d gone right after the gun after whatsisname had dropped it impressed him. No screeching, no histrionics, just cool, trained competence. He’d had one very, very bad moment when he thought he wouldn’t be able to nail that gunman with the rock he’d picked up before he shot Red, but she’d bought him just the few seconds he needed for a clear throw, without her even knowing he was there at all. Red had guts.
She pulled into her usual parking space, and he parked his rental car in the spot next to her. When he got out, he saw that Red wa
s already on her way up the stairs. Well, she said for him to follow her. He followed, trying to catch up without appearing to hurry…too much. He finally did catch up just as she unlocked and opened her door. She walked into her apartment and turned, holding the door open for him. She was acting very strangely, he thought, but what the hell? He went on in. She shut and locked the door behind him and stood with her back against it, just looking up at him, not saying a thing.
“Red?” he began.
She launched herself straight at him, her arms going around his neck, her mouth mashing itself against his, the impact of her body slamming into his, almost knocking him off of his feet and onto his back. He staggered for a few tottering steps before he regained his balance, and his arms went around her as her long legs wrapped around his waist. Her tongue stabbed wildly into his mouth, seemed to be reaching for his tonsils…
The next thing he knew she was tearing his shirt open, her face a mask of lust, hunger, desire, her breath coming in ragged gasps and moans. His hands, moving of their own accord, ripped her blouse open, yanked away her brassiere…she yelped when it tore free.
They fell to the floor together, ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes in between fevered bouts of kissing, stroking, hard caresses, hair-grabbing. He felt her nails clawing at his back.
“Bed…” she gasped, mouth gaping, eyes wide. “Bed…bedroom…” She pointed.
He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, pulling away the last shreds of her clothing as he went, leaving a trail. She was kissing him so avidly that he couldn’t see where he was going, but somehow he got to her bedroom, got to her bed, threw her onto it. She hit with a squeal, then laid there, legs apart, arms reaching out for him, her face a plea as he tore away the last of his clothes. Then he was all over her, his hips twisting and moving until he was inside of her. He slammed himself against her as her hands clawed at his back again. The bed groaned at the impact. Again! Again!! Again!!!
She was howling, her legs wrapped around him, squeezing, squeezing, trying to force him even deeper into her, her breath hot and damp on his face…she was so tight, so hot, so hungry…He felt as if his mind was slipping away, leaving nothing but a ravening male animal. He could hear her grunting, moaning, wailing…or was that him making those noises?
***
After what seemed like a couple of years, his mind floated back up into at least a semblance of consciousness. He shook his head, lifted it to look around. They were lying on their backs, side by side, on her bed. Their legs were tangled together, and both of them were covered in sweat. His breathing was still a little labored. So was Red’s. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful. She had a worn and satisfied look, her pretty little mouth sagging slightly open.
“Hey…” he nudged her. She made a little noise, and he knew she was at least sort of awake. “Red…” he asked. “Was that you?”
“Mmmmm,” she smiled, eyes still closed. “No talking,” she murmured and turned towards him, her arm sliding across his chest, pulling her closer to him. He could feel her breasts, soft and warm, pressing against him. It was a very pleasant feeling, but right now he felt just a bit too worn out to do anything about it. Maybe in a year or two…
He moved to get a little more comfortable, and winced as his back reminded him how lacerated it was. What had gotten into her? He wasn’t complaining, but a regular diet of this kind of exercise would likely age him prematurely and rapidly. Was that a gray hair there on his chest already?
***
He must have slept, because the next thing he knew, Red was lying half across him, licking and sucking at his cock. She was making happy, contented little noises, and he’d been awakened in much worse ways, so he let her go on. It felt good…very good.
Claudia kissed the tip of his cock again before taking him into her mouth. He was getting harder, bigger, as she slowly worked her tongue and lips all over it. She could taste him and her, all intermingled, and it tasted good to her. She licked and sucked the whole length of his cock clean before settling down to work. He stirred under her, and she heard him moan. As she began sucking harder, she felt his hand come down on the back of her neck, and squeeze gently.
He had an old rule about never interfering with someone who knew what they were doing. Red knew what she was doing, no doubt about that. He gave her neck another little squeeze. She responded with a pleased little noise, rubbed herself against him slowly, took him deeper into her mouth. He shifted his left hand from her neck, put his right hand there instead, then began stroking her body with his left hand…what parts of it he could reach. She felt good. She did something with her tongue, and he shuddered.
It wasn’t at all like riding a bicycle, but it was fun learning over and over again. She could smell his faint male musk, tickling the back of her nostrils. His cock was big, round and hard in her mouth. When she put her lips or tongue to certain spots she could feel his pulse, strong and deep. Doing the same thing to other spots meant he would make noises, or move slightly, or his grip on the back of her neck would tighten, or any combination of the three. She could feel his hand on her back, on her ass. She took him in a little more, testing to see how much of him she could swallow, how deep she could go. She was salivating freely, dribbling on him now and again. She didn’t care, and she didn’t think he did either.
There was no doubt in her mind that Shepperton would have killed her. She’d seen his face. One more time, she’d faced death, and one more time she had lived through it. It had produced the same powerful physical reaction in her as had those times when she was a policewoman. It had taken every bit of self-control she’d had to just drive home and open her door as if nothing had happened. Once the door had shut behind her though, something had snapped. She didn’t care. She was perfectly content right now, relaxed and sated and conducting this interesting little experiment. She took a deep breath and held it, and took him in deeply, partway down her throat. There was a bit of a gag reflex, but not too much to ignore. She pulled back and exhaled with a deep, happy sigh. She thought she could become very good at this, with practice. She licked and sucked for a little while before taking another deep, deep breath…
He heard her grunt as she took him in deep again and his hand tightened reflexively on her neck. He didn’t push or try to hold her there, but damn, it felt good! He groaned.
She pulled back again, exhaling deeply. Once more ought to do it, she thought. Her thumb and forefinger circled his cock at the base, and she took one more long breath, held it…
She heard him groan again as she slowly took him in. A little further…a little further…Her lips touched her hand at last, and she held herself there for a long moment, savoring the feel of him in her mouth, in her throat, warm and hard and pulsing. His grip on her neck was strong, almost painful. She drew back slowly, and exhaled around him before settling down to more serious and more vigorous work.
He wished he could somehow save this moment for all time. Her head was moving up and down rapidly now, her mouth and tongue doing incredible things. She was making tiny little grunts every time she took him in, and somehow that noise was the sexiest thing he had ever heard. He let himself groan and moan as she kept to her work. He was very close now. He ought to warn her, at least…
He shifted his grip from her neck to her hair. “Red…” he began. Her response was to go even faster. “Ah…RED!”
She timed it perfectly, taking him in all the way just as he erupted. She could feel him spurting down her throat, feel him twisting and writhing under her, feel his fingers twined into her hair hard enough to hurt. She held him there as long as she could, swallowing, gulping, before she just HAD to breathe again. She let him slide out of her mouth and took several long, deep breaths, her head tilted way back, before leaning back down to kiss and lick the shaft of his cock.
When she was done, she slithered back into his arms, loving the feel of him against her, and kissed him, one quick little kiss while her tongue-tip flicked b
riefly against his. She settled back with a happy sigh.
He was quiet for a long moment. He felt almost exactly the same way he had after that idiot electrician had accidentally given him that numbing 240-volt shock: Nothing damaged, but everything jangling and feeling strange for a while.
“Damn, Red,” he spoke finally, “I missed you too!”
She laughed and snuggled close. “Don’t get cocky,” she said.
“Not much worry about that for an hour or three,” he replied. He raised his head to look down at himself. “Maybe four or five,” he observed, dropping his head back on the pillow.
“My way of thanking you properly,” she murmured. She slid a long leg over him. Her knee nudged his balls gently. “Why were you there, Sam? Really?”
“Like I said, Red. I wanted to talk to you. I figured once you and your friends were done there you’d have time to listen.”
“You sent the flowers.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I did.”
“You sent that e-mail?”
“I did that too, couple of days ago. Then I found out just how busy you were, so I backed off and waited. I hate when I’m busy and somebody jogs my elbow.”
“How did you ‘find out’?”
“Oh…” he waved a hand. “I have my ways. Don’t pry, Red. I won’t tell you.”
“Mmmmm…” she murmured. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You saved my life, Sam. Thank you.”
His arm tightened around her. “My pleasure, ma’am,” he said.
“But tell me…” she propped herself up on her elbow so she could look into his eyes. “Why did you come here? Why, after two years? Why, after I told you not to?”
He looked back at her, and smiled sheepishly. His free hand covered hers as it lay on his chest. “Do you remember when I told you that after that night, everything else was gonna be like plain vanilla ice cream, over and over again?”
