Wild Abandon

by Ronica Black

  She fumbled with the bottle cap as her brain downshifted to her second favorite way to spend time. Sex. Yes, a woman was just what she needed. She laughed suddenly as she realized she wasn’t that different from her prowling cat after all.

  Suddenly buzzing with purpose and sure of her remedy, she headed into the bedroom, where she pulled on her favorite pair of jeans. She ran her hands down her thighs, loving the way the denim clung to them. Her heart beat faster as the thought of her escapade excited her. Next, she pulled on a tight-fitting Banana Republic T-shirt that kissed her breasts and abdomen just right. The army green of the T-shirt matched her eyes and showed off some of the lightness in her brown hair.

  Seeing that it needed work, she moved into the bathroom, ran some gel through the tousled locks, and brushed her teeth. After that, she yanked on her thick brown belt and stepped into her matching boots. With a quick spray of cologne and one last look of approval, she was out the door and starting the engine to the Durango.

  She drove in silence, hoping that the pickings would be good. It was Sunday night, after all, not exactly the best time to find a one-night stand. But there she was, determined and convinced.

  The outside of the bar was dark, with a few cars scattered around the parking lot. She parked the SUV and dug in the console for her cigarettes. She only smoked when she drank, and she had a feeling that she would be putting away more than a few that evening.

  Her vision adjusted quickly as she pushed in the door and scanned the lesbian bar, which was illuminated by a few neon beer signs and a couple of blacklights. The two women sitting alone at the bar turned to look her way, and then dropped their heads to once again study their drinks.

  Chan approached the heavyset bartender with the well-kept mullet.

  “How are ya?” the bartender asked, placing her hands on the worn counter.

  “Not bad,” she lied, digging in her pocket for cash. “Captain Coke,” she requested, laying out a ten. “Easy on the Coke.”

  The bartender nodded and turned to busy herself making the drink.

  From behind, Chan heard the sorrowful cries of Melissa Etheridge sing out from the jukebox. She was feeling the pangs of love, and Chan wondered who else was as she looked around, focusing on no one in particular. There was only a handful of women in the bar. Two where she stood, two sitting dangerously close at a table, and one all alone in the back corner.

  “Three fifty,” the bartender declared, sliding the rum and Coke her way.

  Chan grabbed a book of matches and turned to walk away. “Keep them coming,” she instructed, carrying her drink and cigarettes.

  She made herself comfortable near the far corner booth, liking the privacy and darkness that surrounded it. Behind her the lone woman sat in silence, hidden by the darkness. Chan thought about voicing a polite greeting but changed her mind, not yet ready to have a mindless conversation with sex as the main motive. She sipped her rum, resisted the urge to twitch at its strength, and lit a cigarette.

  As she blew out the comforting smoke, the bartender walked over and stopped at the table behind her, asking the occupant, “Can I get you anything else?”

  Half listening, Chan sucked on the cigarette, her eyes trained on the door, looking for prey, just like a cat ready to pounce.

  “No. I’m ready to leave.” The voice behind her was deep and smooth, and dangerously familiar.

  Chan nearly choked as she hurriedly exhaled and tensed in her seat. No. It can’t be.

  Suddenly nervous, she lowered the cigarette and debated turning to look. The bartender moved past her to return to her station.

  Chan’s heart thumped in her chest. More movement came from behind her as the mysterious woman with the familiar voice took several steps to leave, passing by Chan’s table. Without thinking, Chan reached out and touched her arm, needing to know, dying to know.

  The woman straightened at the touch, but didn’t turn around. Chan allowed her eyes to glide quickly over her long, strong body before coming to rest on the back of her head, where dark chestnut hair fell just below her shoulders. Her fingers burned from the warm softness of the woman’s flesh.

  “Officer Monroe?” she rasped. The stranger turned then, fastening her intense blue eyes on Chan’s.

  “Ms. Brogan,” she responded coolly. Her arms were strong and toned, her breasts high and full in the tight-fitting black tank top she wore.

  Chan inhaled at the sight of her. “I…uh…”

  The officer’s gaze fell to her arm, where Chan’s hand remained. Feeling awkward and shook up, Chan withdrew her hand at once. “Please, sit.”

  Officer Monroe stared at her for a moment, as if deliberating. “I should get home.”

  “No, please!” She half stood, desperate for her to stay. “Let me buy you a drink.” Chan waved the bartender over and eased herself back down. “Please. It’s the very least I can do.” Chan watched her, searching for that crack in her wall, needing to know she had reached her. Seeing nothing of the kind, she continued, “You were kind to Hank and me today.”

  The bartender approached and stood looking from Chan to Officer Monroe.

  “Bring her another one,” Chan ordered.

  “No, thanks,” Officer Monroe responded politely, excusing the confused bartender, who retreated back to the bar, shaking her head.

  Chan was just about to protest when the cop sat, making herself comfortable across the table. She studied Chan coolly for a few moments before she finally spoke.

  “I don’t like smoke.” She stared pointedly at the thin trail of white smoke snaking up from Chan’s cigarette.

  Immediately Chan stubbed it out and pushed the pack away. “I’ll stop. I mean, I only smoke when I drink.” The words were offered quickly and Chan waited, nerves on edge, for a response.

  The officer’s face gave away nothing, nor did her eyes, making Chan all the more nervous.

  “I don’t do that much either,” Chan continued. “Drink, I mean.” She looked away then, ashamed at her behavior. What the hell was she doing? Why did she care? Why was she so eagerly accommodating her, this virtual stranger?

  Finally, Officer Monroe spoke. “I’ll stay, but only if you tell me you didn’t ride your bike here tonight.”

  Chan laughed aloud at the joke and then fell silent as she realized that the officer was serious. Again, she felt the need to please her. She would do or say anything to keep her there.

  “No, uh, no. I drove my Durango,” she quickly explained.

  Just like that, the night had changed on her. Not only had she found a woman of interest, she had found the very woman she was trying to forget in the first place. What did this mean? What should she do? More importantly, what should she say?

  “Come here often?” Brilliant, asshole. That’s sure to knock her off her feet. Chan resisted the urge to whack herself in the forehead at her less than suave choice of words.

  Officer Monroe grinned slightly. “No.”

  Chan nearly sighed with relief and returned the smile. “Me neither.”

  To Chan’s pleasant surprise, the woman continued to speak, saving Chan from voicing more ridiculous come-ons.

  “So where’s your brother?” A flicker of mischief made itself known as her lips tilted to one side.

  Chan’s blood flushed with heat, making her skin tingle. The gorgeous cop was incredible. And Chan was drowning in her presence.

  “He’s at home.” The words came out, but Chan didn’t seem to have voiced them. Her mind whirled, her sole focus on the woman seated across from her. Officer Monroe was here, and that meant she was gay. And suddenly all of Chan’s crazy thoughts and fantasies from earlier in the day were screaming to a halt in front of her. The recognition she had searched for in her eyes was now smack-dab in front of her.

  Houston, we are go for launch.

  “With his wife,” Chan continued, smiling and glancing down at her drink. Her nervousness and desperation suddenly receded, leaving a calm, cool demeanor that came fro
m knowing what the woman was and what she wanted.

  “So what about you, do you have a wife?” Chan raised her eyes to watch her once again.

  “No, I don’t,” she replied softly, her eyes glinting with lightning.

  Chan rimmed her glass with a finger as the sweet adrenaline she always craved flooded her insides. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I have a wife?”

  “No.”

  Chan clenched her legs as the heat from the officer’s stare traveled to her center. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t need to.”

  “You don’t?” Suddenly Chan’s heart flip-flopped. Maybe she was reading her wrong. Maybe she wasn’t interested.

  “No. I already know you’re not attached.” The grin returned. “Your brother happened to mention it while he was trying to explain your behavior.”

  Chan’s face burned with embarrassment. She dropped her head in her hand and reached for her drink, which she gulped at.

  “He did, did he?” She tried to sound unaffected, but the officer’s gaze was intense and stirring her insides.

  “Yes.”

  Silence fell, making it difficult for Chan to breathe. What else did this woman know? Chan squirmed a little in her seat, not used to being on the other side of the coin. She was the one who knew things about people, private things. Not the other way around.

  “Can I ask you something?” she asked, curious, turned on, and more than a little dizzy.

  The officer nodded.

  “Why did you let me go today?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Please,” Chan asked softly, watching the woman’s dark brown bangs caress her forehead.

  “Because there was…” She glanced at Chan briefly and then lowered her eyes.

  “Because there was what?”

  “Because there was something about you.”

  Chan’s entire body beat to the drum of her heart. She sipped more of the drink, almost disbelieving that she had heard correctly.

  When Officer Monroe raised her head to look at Chan again, the attraction in her eyes was undeniable. Chan couldn’t speak. She couldn’t swallow. She just sat. And stared. Never before had a woman moved her so. Chan wanted her, wanted the woman to have her as well, wanted it all. The officer seemed to sense what Chan was feeling. Her blue eyes burned brightly with desire right back at her. Chan reached for the drink again and wet her mouth so she could speak.

  “You want to get out of here?” Her voice was tight and strained. Please, God, say yes.

  Officer Monroe swallowed and then licked her lips as Chan nearly died with desire across from her. When she nodded, Chan felt like melting, her body turning to mush.

  They rose from the table, and Chan’s insides growled with starvation, her mouth watering at the sight of the woman’s bare skin peeking through the fabric of her torn jeans.

  The bartender voiced a good night somewhere in the foggy, dim distance as they pushed out the door into the cool desert night.

  Chapter Four

  Once again Chan was alone and driving in silence, only this time the frustration and the determination to forget were absent. What resonated inside of her instead was a craving, a desire so strong it left her weak.

  Her palms were sweaty as she made the turn onto her street. Officer Monroe’s headlights shone on her from behind, tickling her with promise. Chan pulled in the drive and eased the Durango into the garage. She stepped out and waited for the woman she so badly wanted.

  Officer Monroe climbed from her black Chevy truck and slinked her way into the garage. Chan smiled with nervous anticipation as she pushed the button to lower the door.

  “Come on in—” she started to say, but the cop stifled her words, shoving her against the door to the house. Chan gasped in surprise as the woman pinned her with her weight. Her mouth was a fraction from Chan’s, her alluring scent teasing her nose.

  “Shh,” she instructed, lightly touching Chan’s lips with her finger.

  The garage door closed, leaving them alone with the dull glow of the overhead light. Glacier eyes stared into Chan’s, fanning her fire, letting Chan know she had something to say.

  “I’m going to make you come,” Officer Monroe whispered, her lips teasing Chan’s as she spoke. She raised Chan’s arms up above her head. “I’m going to make you come over and over again until you beg me to stop.”

  Chan moaned slightly and started to speak but the officer stopped her, conquering Chan’s mouth with hers. Chan closed her eyes and felt her knees weaken as the officer devoured her, sucking on her tongue and then probing her with her own. Officer Monroe’s body pressed up against her, her thigh grinding between Chan’s legs. The cop groaned with pleasure.

  “Do you want it?” she asked as she tore her mouth from Chan and bit at her ear. “Do you want me to make you come?”

  Chan trembled beneath her as hot blood gushed to the fleshy spot between her legs. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening, unable to make sense of the woman at her neck, the cop who had tried to arrest her. But it was her, it was Officer Monroe. Only now she was off duty and on Chan with the same confident, strong control she oozed while in the uniform.

  “Yes.” Chan’s voice quaked in response to the officer’s hot hungry tongue licking at her ear.

  The officer grunted her pleasure and grinned at Chan as her right hand drifted down to Chan’s crotch.

  “Good,” she purred. Her fingers flew, unbuttoning Chan’s fly.

  The light to the garage door switched off, leaving them in the darkness. Chan felt the cop’s breath against her skin as she flattened her hand and slid it down the front of Chan’s underwear. Chan gasped and bit her lower lip as the sexy officer’s fingertips found her wet and aching.

  “Yes,” she groaned against Chan’s neck. “I wanted to make you come the second I saw you.” She stroked Chan’s swollen clit as she spoke, driving her like a Ferrari, fast and fluid.

  Noises crept from Chan, short, throaty, and raw. She clenched her eyes, feeling the white-hot heat branch out into her, consuming her quickly. Her hips began to buck against the strong hand as the hunger demanded to be fed.

  Officer Monroe’s left arm pressed into Chan’s hands above her head, while her right arm stroked Chan like a talented bow. Chan’s head slammed back with the pleasure, her mouth opening to take air from above. She heard the woman laugh in the darkness and felt the heat from her breath once again in her ear. The talented hand stopped its sensual play, causing Chan to twitch with need.

  “Wait,” Officer Monroe demanded softly. “I want to see you. I want to watch your face as you come.” She released Chan’s arms but the hand at Chan’s crotch remained as she slowly turned Chan to face the door. “Now,” she instructed. “Take me inside.”

  With a weak hand, Chan felt for the doorknob and gently pushed. Dim light from her living-room lamp filtered out, softly showing the way. Chan stepped slowly and as she did so, Officer Monroe’s fingers squeezed her flesh, causing Chan to rise up onto her toes.

  The cop stepped into Chan from behind and whispered in her ear. “Keep going.”

  Chan took another step and felt her breath hitch in her throat as the cop squeezed again. Chan wanted to yank her hand out, to turn and kiss her, to take back control. But as her knees shook, she knew she couldn’t. She was weak with pleasure, pounding with need.

  She reached back to brace her hands on the cop’s strong thighs as they took several more steps together.

  The cop’s left arm found Chan’s waist as she was just about to crumple with orgasm. “Not yet,” she said devilishly.

  “I can’t,” Chan breathed, shaking, almost unable to stand. What was happening? Her brain swirled with hot foggy desire. Who was this woman and what was she doing to her? More importantly, why was she letting her?

  “Yes, you can.” Her tongue teased Chan’s ear, awakening her arms and legs with goose bumps, pushing her qualms away. “Which way is the bedroom?”

  Chan shuddered
and leaned her head back against the officer, trying desperately to anchor her body, her will, and pointed to her left.

  “I promise, if you keep going, it’ll be worth your while.” The cop stroked her again, sliding her fingers up and down the sides of Chan’s clit. Her teeth found Chan’s neck while her other hand rose up to pinch Chan’s nipple through her shirt.

  Chan cried out, arching her back with pleasure, wishing to God she would just take her now. Attuned to Chan’s excitement, the cop slowly stopped her stroking and lowered her hand from Chan’s breast to her hip.

  Chan nearly collapsed again, needing so badly to come. She clenched her eyes tight and felt the salty stings of sweat. The near stranger had total and complete control of her. She knew it but realized she no longer cared. Even if she had, she was too wound up, too weak to fight back. Her aroused and racing mind slammed a realization home.

  “What are you doing to me?” The words were strained and weak. Chan didn’t realize she had spoken them aloud until the officer chuckled softly and knowingly, and then once again spoke in her ear.

  “Take me to the bedroom.”

  Breathing deep and getting her bearings, Chan turned and walked carefully with her down the hallway. The cop’s fingers played with her, rubbing and teasing while her breath spoke of pleasures to come.

  Somehow, Chan managed to keep walking, until eventually she stood writhing against the powerful woman in the doorway to her room. Sweat dampened her shirt, and her legs shook involuntarily. She felt like a puppet, wet, wanting, and nearly limp, willing to do anything for her master.

  “Turn on the light,” was the next soft, yet seductive command.

  Chan reached out and fumbled for the switch. The bedside lamp came on, the light piercing her eyes as it spread, kissing the king-sized bed.

  The knowing hand eased up from her pants and Chan clenched her legs in response. Her body screamed at the separation, throbbing and aching with need. Her head swam, leaving her feeling dizzy with desire. From behind, Officer Monroe’s hands steadied her shoulders, turning Chan around to face her. Chan did so carefully, as if she were intoxicated.