Wild Abandon

by Ronica Black

  Blue eyes burned her skin, running over her face and neck. “I want you to watch now,” the cop said. “Watch me undress you.”

  Chan licked her lips as the long fingers rose to her shirt. Slowly, the cop inched the T-shirt up, her fingertips lightly grazing Chan’s skin as she did so. Chan raised her arms, her eyes locked with the incredible woman’s as the shirt was pulled from her.

  They stood still then, chests rising and falling with arousal. The cop dropped the shirt and then pulled on Chan’s waistband, tugging her closer. Her tongue lined Chan’s lips before trailing to her neck as she forced down the jeans.

  Chan gasped as she felt the hot tongue trace the cool skin of her chest and then her abdomen as the graceful hands freed her of her pants. The cop’s fingers came back up slowly, caressing Chan’s thighs as she rose back up before her.

  The fever of the woman’s wants and desires was evident in the brush of color on her cheeks. Her eyes were focused, and darkening and alive. She moved into Chan, her hand claiming the back of her head, pulling Chan to her mouth. She took her hard, aggressively plunging her tongue into Chan, then hungrily tugging on her lips.

  Chan groaned into her, her hands clinging to the powerful back, knotting in her shirt. Chan felt the sweat on the woman’s bare skin and instantly craved more. She flattened her hands and tried to ease up her tank top.

  As she did so, she heard a growl and then felt the cop pull away. Strong hands wrapped around Chan’s forearms and pushed them from her. Chan stood staring, confused, but too turned on to care.

  The cop grinned at her again, like a hunting, slinking panther, and she backed her up to the bed.

  When the back of Chan’s legs bumped against the mattress, the cop released her and lifted her hands to Chan’s bra, leaning into her, allowing Chan to inhale her scent once again. She flicked her wrist and released the clasp. She stepped back and gently brought the straps of the bra off Chan’s arms so that it fell to the floor. Her eyes swept up and down Chan’s body, lightly touching her in all the right places.

  Chan shuddered beneath her stare. The air, too, caressed her, tickling her breasts and puckering her nipples, causing the pulse to return to her center.

  “Take off your panties,” the cop said with heavy intensity.

  Hesitating only for a moment, Chan brought her hands up to her hips and slid her fingers under the double bands of her satin thong.

  “Slowly,” the woman added, causing Chan to move with deliberation, gliding her panties down over the flare of her hips, below her pulsing center and down her sensitive thighs.

  Chan stepped out of them carefully and stood before her conqueror completely nude, her body aching and alive with need. She didn’t know what it was about the cop that kept her going, kept her moving, kept her obeying. Never before had she felt so alive, so hungry for another. She was willing to do anything for her. Anything.

  Her brain, her thoughts, any sense of pride or reason she had were gone, eaten alive by the fierce appetite of desire that burned into her with this woman’s every touch. Instinctively, she reached out for the cop’s shirt, wanting to undress her, but a strong hand and a soft command stopped her.

  “Lie down.” The officer eased Chan onto the mattress, and crawled atop her with assured grace, immediately claiming Chan’s neck with her teeth and tongue.

  Chan groaned up into her as the woman’s skilled hands came to life, squeezing first her breasts and then her nipples. A firm thigh shoved into her engorged flesh as the cop devoured her skin, making her way down to Chan’s navel.

  She stopped at her hips and looked up at Chan from all fours. “I’m going to make you come now,” she said, wrapping her hands under Chan’s legs and up around her hips, lifting her off the bed.

  Chan didn’t have time to respond before she was raised up to the cop’s mouth and the woman fed like she was dying, her tongue assaulting Chan’s flesh with weighted pressure, swirling in deliberate circles. Chan clamped her hands down on the bedcovers as her shoulders took all the weight. She thrashed her head from side to side, the pleasure too much, too intense. She felt the skillful tongue glide lower where it plunged into her, swirling again, this time against her tight walls. As she neared climax, possessive hands squeezed her buttocks, holding her tighter.

  At just the right moment, the woman’s mouth maneuvered again, sucking in all of Chan’s flesh and then attacking it with her tongue. Chan cried out, tensing and tightening, writhing with the pleasure the cop was creating. And she nearly screamed out as the orgasm came and she shoved herself up into the cop over and over again.

  Officer Monroe moaned as she took her, continuing to suck her core vigorously, holding on until the last of the orgasm shook through Chan. Apparently satisfied that the climax had been milked thoroughly, she finally lowered Chan back onto the bed.

  Chan lay breathing heavily, her body weighted and tingling. A surge of intensity shot through her suddenly and she raised her head to find the cop licking up her warm arousal from her inner thighs. Chan grabbed her dark hair and knotted it in her hand. The aftershocks were too much to handle with the seeking tongue. Her breath came sporadically, as did her voice.

  “Stop…I…” she started and then swallowed. She couldn’t take what the cop was currently doing. “That was…”

  “Shh,” the cop instructed, rising up. “I’m not done.” She crawled forward and wiped her chin with a grin. “Turn over.”

  Confused and nearly spent, Chan merely stared at her. “Huh?”

  “Turn over,” she said again, this time helping her.

  Chan rolled onto to her stomach and began to wonder when it would be her turn to take charge. Her thoughts were quickly stifled as she felt the cop’s fingers between her legs. She slid carefully inside Chan, gliding against her slick walls. A bolt of heated pleasure shot up through her, lifting her hips up off the bed.

  “Do you like that?” the cop asked.

  “Ye…yes,” Chan grunted.

  “Good,” she cooed, continuing to fuck her. “Now, relax.”

  She stopped her strokes as Chan settled her hips back onto the bed. Chan felt the fingers shift slightly and then in an instant a new pressure was up in her, in her ass. Tensing with the pleasure that she knew was soon to come, Chan moaned her delight as the cop began pumping her again, one finger in her ass and the others in her slick hole, pressing against her G-spot.

  “Jesus Christ,” Chan mumbled, lifting herself up to all fours, clutching the bedcovers.

  The powerful cop drove into her from behind, killing her with pleasure. The bed began to squeak as she fucked her, harder and faster. Chan closed her eyes tightly and then opened them wide as she felt the cop’s mouth and tongue on her, biting her cheeks and then rimming her ass, licking where her finger disappeared up inside. The sensation sent her over and she came again, incredibly hard, bucking back against the cop’s hand, loving what she was doing.

  She pushed and rocked until her arms shook with exhaustion and her head spun with lack of blood flow. She collapsed down onto the bed and felt the cop move, kissing her way up her back.

  Chan breathed with difficulty, her arms smashed beneath her body, her face in the bedcovers. Her ears buzzed and rang, making the officer’s voice sound fuzzy and distant.

  “Turn over.”

  Chan lay unmoving, unable to comprehend anything but her pounding blood. She felt the officer’s hot mouth find the back of her neck, where she bit just hard enough to get her attention.

  Chan moved slightly and met the seeking eyes. “Wha?” Her mouth remained pressed against the bed. She couldn’t lift her head, it was way too heavy.

  Officer Monroe twisted her hand around inside Chan, rousing her from her stupor.

  Slick with sticky sweat, Chan jerked and turned slowly over. She breathed deep, letting the ceiling fan cool her hot body with its caress.

  The seductive stranger looked down on her with her hypnotic eyes and full, pink lips. Chan gulped, recognizing the hunge
r that still beat in the vein on her neck. The cop grinned again, and Chan’s racing heart almost stopped at her unbelievable beauty. She was by far the sexiest creature Chan had ever laid eyes on.

  “You’re…” Chan could barely whisper but she wanted to tell her. “So beautiful.”

  Officer Monroe moved a quick finger up to her lips where she lightly traced, shushing her. She bent down and kissed Chan where her finger had just touched. Her mouth was warm and soft and heavy. Chan moaned softly and felt her pull away. Her blue eyes danced as she whispered, “One more time.”

  The words floated to her but had no meaning. Chan was flying high, high above her body and the bed. Fingers raked lightly down Chan’s stomach to her glistening flesh and carefully circled, encouraging Chan to spread her legs.

  She did so quickly, her body taken over by desire once more. The amazing hand found its way back inside of her, back into both holes.

  The cop began to pump her again, painfully slowly as she spoke. “One more time.”

  Chan shook her head, the meaning finally sinking in. No. She couldn’t. It was too much. Impossible.

  “One more time,” the seductress said yet again, softly demanding it of her. She took Chan’s hand and brought it to her mouth, where she slowly began to suck on her index finger.

  Chan took in a quick breath at the sensation and relaxed against her. The cop fucked her slowly, carefully, moving Chan’s finger from her mouth to lead it up her shirt, where her breast lay exposed, bound by no bra. Chan relished its warmth and groaned, pinching the woman’s nipple. The alluring officer licked her darkened lips and clenched her perfect jaw. She was aroused, hungry like a wolf, eyes flashing with want and need.

  Chan had seldom seen a woman look like that before. So turned on, so moved by what she was doing. Chan wanted her then, wanted to touch her, to take her where she had been taken. She rose up and pinched the nipple again, tugging her forward for a powerful kiss.

  The cop responded with a heavy groan and kissed her back furiously. Chan’s hand found her hair possessively and grasped it, holding her to her. Then, with another groan, the stronger woman pushed herself upon Chan, slamming her back down against the bed. Her free hand tore Chan’s from her dark hair, pinning it above her.

  “Stay here,” she insisted, breathing rapidly, her eyes flashing with lightning once again. She released her and moved down the bed. With one last look of starvation, she lowered herself, resting her mouth on Chan’s meaty center.

  Chan sucked in a hot breath of air as the hand continued to probe deep within. She arched her back with pleasure as the need to come took hold of her again. Reaching down, she tugged possessively on the cop’s head, holding her as she fucked her with her mouth and with her fingers. The orgasm that was building was bigger than before, looming larger and larger.

  “Yes!” Chan cried out, her voice deep and throaty. “God, yes!”

  The beautiful woman pushed up into her vigorously, moaning into her flesh as her hand and tongue worked their magic. Chan closed her eyes and saw her face, her eyes, her grin. She saw the look of hunger, the flash of desire. She was beautiful. She was intense, she was raw, she was unbelievable. And so was the insane amount of pleasure she was pouring upon Chan. Filled up completely, Chan raised herself up off the bed, offering her entirety, almost like a sacrifice to the goddess the woman was. Tensing, shaking, she held the cop’s face in her mind’s eye and then broke all at once. She shouted, she grunted, she died. Her body fought the powerful cop, forcing itself upon her and then trying desperately to back away. The woman fought back, grabbing onto Chan’s hip, holding her to her, silently demanding that she take it all, every last bit.

  They battled for what seemed like an eternity until Chan had no more strength left in her and relented, dropping down onto the bed as if she had no bones in her body. She lay still, like a rag doll, panting, her mind swimming. She was vaguely aware of a tongue licking the sweat off her abdomen. Her body twitched, her nerves frayed and dangerously exposed.

  “Can you speak?” the cop asked, very delicately removing her fingers from inside her.

  Chan cried out softly at the absence within and shook her head as she tried to focus on her blurry face.

  “I…I…” she croaked, her eyes unbelievably heavy and drifting closed. The world around her seemed heavy and thick, too hazy to focus on. Everything became one. A soft, deep hum, lulling her to sleep.

  The woman kissed her then, or maybe Chan dreamt it. She felt soft lips touch her own oh so gently and then pull away, quickly disappearing into the haze along with the woman’s scent.

  Chapter Five

  Patrol Officer Sarah Monroe slipped her thin T-shirt on over her sports bra. She stood from the bench in the women’s locker room and pulled the string on her mesh athletic shorts, tightening the fit. As she held her arms above her head for a brief stretch, the bright blue spine of her latest purchase caught her eye. She reached inside, unable to be patient any longer.

  The book was by one of her favorite romance authors and it had just arrived that afternoon. She licked her lips with anticipation and turned it over to skim the back cover as she had a dozen times in the last hour. More than anything she longed to get lost in the pages, to escape into the hearts of the imaginary characters. The love and passion she found in books and film felt incredibly real to her. The stories touched her like nothing else could. And most importantly, the characters couldn’t hurt her, betray her, or even die. No, they were perfect. Safe. Just like the ideal love they shared.

  As she fanned through the book, she heard someone approach and open a locker near hers. Startled back from her world of make-believe, she tucked the book away and grabbed a pair of socks.

  “Hey, Monroe.”

  “Hey.” Sarah mentally sifted through names as the young fair haired officer busied herself at her locker, quickly tugging off her shirt and shoving down her pants. Leslie Carver.

  She caught herself looking her colleague over, eyeing her fit body appreciatively. As she studied her, the vision of another woman invaded her mind. Chandler Brogan. The woman she had been with the previous night. The woman who had been on her mind constantly ever since.

  Frustrated, she did her best to shake the thought away.

  “Working out?” Carver questioned, reaching back to unlatch her bra. Her small perky breasts gathered to taut points as the cool air hit them.

  “Yeah.” Sarah sat poised on the bench, one leg crossed over the other, sock in hand. Leslie Carver was beautiful, but she didn’t compare to Chandler. Sarah felt her cheeks heat, but she didn’t know if it was from frustration or desire in remembering how Chandler looked in the nude.

  Why am I sitting here thinking about a one-night stand? She forced her focus away from Chandler and onto the temptation standing next to her. The woman was attractive, more than most. And Sarah knew she was gay.

  “Me too.” Carver moved about with an air of self-assuredness, seemingly oblivious to Sarah’s wandering gaze. But a part of her had to know Sarah was watching. She was obviously eating it up while pretending not to let on.

  “Listen,” she said, unabashedly squeezing into a sports bra, “a couple of us are going out later after our shift.” She stuck her hand in the bra, adjusting her breasts. “Wanna go?” Her dark eyes met Sarah’s as her mouth spread with a knowing grin.

  Sarah contemplated the invitation, once again averting her gaze. She knew she could have the woman and thought about what it would be like to conquer her. But her answer came out before she even realized.

  “No thanks. I can’t.” She tugged on her shoes and laced them up hurriedly. What am I doing? Why did I say no?

  Her colleague took it well, almost as if she expected Sarah to turn her down. “Some other time then?” She straightened, pulled her tank top down over her bra, and rested a warm hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

  Inwardly cursing herself, Sarah replied, “Sure.”

  Leslie Carver gave her a smile and breezed out of the
locker room, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts. She closed her locker and sat with her head in her hands. Truth was, she knew exactly why she’d said no. She didn’t date. Nor did she socialize. Especially with people from work. It was just the way she was. She didn’t let anyone in.

  She stood and stroked her dark mane back into a ponytail as she moved to the door, then made her way down the hallway to the weight room.

  As she scanned the room, which hung heavy with sweat, her mind flashed over her current life. She had a lot going on, a lot to think about. Most of it things she wished she could bury down deep, never to think of again. But her present life was demanding that the past be dug up, however awful and life shattering it might be. Which was all the more reason why she needed to concentrate right now. She had to focus; her future depended on it. Any day now she would hear back from the FBI. She had just finished phase two of testing the week before. The Bureau was all she had ever wanted, and she couldn’t afford to screw it up over her current issues. It was too important to her.

  Her eyes caught the bulky body of her longtime friend, fellow cop Dave Houston. At once her insides flooded with guilt. Dave was her closest friend, her only friend. But she hadn’t yet told him about the FBI. She could lie to herself and say it was because she wasn’t yet in. But she knew better. She was a shoo-in.

  Dave greeted her by handing over a water bottle, taking a quick squirt from the one he still held. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” She was more than ready. It was time to focus and forget all the rest.

  She had worked hard to build a nice life for herself. A tidy, comfortable apartment, a great job, an attainable goal with the FBI. And no one to share it with. The thought stabbed her and seemingly from out of nowhere, Chandler’s face forced all else from her mind. Coming for her, over and over. Damn it. No.

  She pushed it away only to have her mother’s voice enter her head, reporting the bad news. Forcing up memories, ghosts, demons she had long ago buried. Fresh, potent anger and resentment followed close behind, leaving her feeling tightly wound, ready to rage, causing her to question her own sanity. No.