The Long Fall

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The Long Fall Page 65

by Daniel Quentin Steele


  She had slid out of those jeans, slipping them down on the floor. Her panties followed. She was unzipping me before I could get my fingers into that wet pussy that she was pushing up against me. I pulled her up and we tried to strangle each other with our mouths until she pushed me away and said, “Get out of those pants, Bill. They’ll have my pussy smeared all over them if you try to keep them on. I’m sopping wet.”

  She had a point. Thirty seconds later she was naked and I only had my shirt and tie on. Before I could move she had a condom out of her purse and had it on me very smoothly. Then I was buried all the way to balls in the center of her and was trying to push it in further.

  “Fuck me harder you bastard....hammer me...god…harder....slam it in me....”

  She kept slipping away from me and I kept slipping out until I grabbed her and threw her on a desk on her stomach, spread her legs wide and rammed it in on one smooth motion. This way I could pound her doggy-style with every ounce of strength in me and not lose contact. I don’t remember if we talked. I remember her making noises and I must have said something, but I could never remember afterward exactly what.

  She was pushing back in a corkscrew motion and grabbing one hand and pressing it so I’d squeeze first one breast and then the other. And then, it wasn’t 60 seconds, I felt it coming and I started going home. It seemed like every time I thrust into her as deep as I could go I squirted out high-pressure streams of me.

  Then I was leaning forward on her and she had flatted herself out on the desk. It occurred to me I’d have to get in here before Raul got back and clean up the mess, as well as dispose of a used condom in such a way that it wouldn’t be discovered and launch a new round of rumors.

  I pulled out of her and somehow managed to stay on my feet as she slowly pushed herself away from the desk and turned to face me. She looked down at my deflating dick and said with a grin, “I think you really, really like me, Mr. Maitland.”

  Then:

  “I don’t know about you, but I really, really needed that.”

  I looked at her wet pussy and said, “I guess I did too. I don’t know that I’ve ever come that fast in my life.”

  She reached out to touch my cheek and said, “I guess we both did. I’ve wanted you for months. It just seemed like today....it seemed like the thing to do.”

  “It’s a good thing we made it here. The way I was feeling, I might have taken you in the courtroom.”

  She laughed.

  “And I would have let you. Hey, think you could get to a bathroom and bring me some paper towels or toilet paper...so I can clean up the mess you made.”

  Afterwards, somehow without anyone catching us, I walked her back to the elevator and avoided holding hands with her when we passed anybody.

  “Uh, Heather....”

  She reached out and shook my hand formally for the benefit of anyone who might be watching.

  “We both got carried away, Bill. We’ve been working together for awhile and we were both really excited and we were dying to celebrate today. There are worse reasons for—what we did.”

  “It was a hell of a celebration.”

  She released my hand and said, “Go on, you’ve got interviews. I think we actually did it in 15 minutes. “

  As the elevator opened and she pushed me toward it, she said, “Your reputation is going to be insane after this. You actually convicted the killer granny. That’s one of the first times a woman’s ever been sent to Death Row in this state. I’ll have to schedule an appointment to get any personal time with you, Mr. Maitland.”

  I spent two and a half hours doing media interviews after which I was almost convinced that I really could walk on water.

  About 4 p.m. I got a call from the Big Man.

  “Bill, could you trot on down to Courtroom 4. Peters is in court with that hit and run driver, the one that killed those two kids. His attorney is balking at the plea deal we’ve offered, 15 years with no parole.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just walk in the courtroom and talk to Peters for a few minutes.”

  “Why? I’ve just killed almost three hours giving you about a million dollars in free publicity.”

  “And I appreciate it. Humor me.”

  So I walked into Courtroom 4 and talked to Peters, a youngish blonde guy who was actually only a few years younger than me but looked like he was still in his 20s. I noted the hit and runner looking at me strangely and then his attorney and he conferred and in a few minutes a woman I thought must be the defendant’s wife came over to them and whispered.

  “Your honor,” the defense attorney said, drawing the attention of Circuit Judge Dominic Dellaro. Dellaro looked up from some papers he’d been studying.

  “Uh, your honor, my client has changed his mind. We’ll take the State’s plea.”

  Dellaro looked at him with just the hint of a smile and asked, “Are you sure, Mr. Richards. I thought you said your client would never agree to 15 years imprisonment. You were going to fight to prove his innocence.”

  The defense guy looked at Peters, and then at me, and suddenly I realized the world was a different place.

  “We changed our mind, your honor.”

  Dellaro just looked at me and smiled.

  When I got back to my office the phone was ringing.

  The Big Man sounded like a cat that had just swallowed a covey of canaries.

  “I think I’m going to have you stand around in every courtroom where we have a trial going. At this rate, we won’t actually have to try many more cases. Not with the Angel of Death breathing fire and brimstone.”

  I would have joked about it except I was still stunned. I really had frightened that guy into accepting a plea. This was almost not funny anymore.

  It got to be about 5 p.m. I was wrapping up loose ends, accepting congratulatory calls, and trying to decide if I wanted to make it to Hurly’s or try to get by Carlos’ place. It had been awhile since I’d done any sparring. The way I felt right now, it seemed I could do almost anything.

  I had put away an evil woman, made myself a legal superstar of sorts, had the kind of raw sex I hadn’t even thought about in more than 20 years, and did it right in the middle of the State Attorney’s Office without anyone being the wiser. Hell, I could probably fly if I put my mind to it.

  The phone rang and I answered it wearily. I really wanted to get out of here. Susie, a secretary who was taking Cheryl’s place, said, “I hate to bother you, Mr. Maitland, but there’s a woman out here asking to see you.”

  “I really don’t want to see anybody, Susie. If she’s a reporter, get her name and tell her I’ll definitely call her tomorrow.”

  “She...said it’s important and that you might want to talk to her.”

  “She wouldn’t give you her name?”

  “No sir.”

  “Aw hell,” I said more to myself than her, then said, “Okay Susie. I’ll give her five minutes. Tell her.”

  I was leaning over to get papers out of a bottom drawer when I heard, “I’d rather have more than five minutes, but I’ll accept whatever I can get.”

  I froze. I smelled her perfume first and then when she leaned over to kiss the side of my face, a kiss that slid onto my lips, I tasted mint. She pulled back from me and was looking down on me and I knew I was dreaming.

  “You wouldn’t come to me, Mr. Maitland, so I had to come to you.”

  I was standing holding her around the waist and she was looking into my eyes with those sea-green eyes of hers. I couldn’t talk.

  “I have two weeks, Bill. If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll go. I can fly down south if you don’t want me around.”

  I pulled her to me and after a long moment I let her lips go and told her, “I don’t want you to go, Aline. I don’t want you to go.”

  END OF VOLUME ONE: THE LONG FALL

  COMING SOON IN THE "WHEN WE WERE MARRIED" SERIES:

  VOLUME TWO: SECOND ACTS

  VOLUME THREE: THE WIND IS RI
SING

  VOLUME FOUR: NOBODY GETS OUT ALIVE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Daniel Quentin Steele is a Florida author and one of those rare native Floridians. A former educator, he has worked for three major Florida newspapers. He has been a public relations professional for a major statewide professional association and a speechwriter and political and media consultant as well. He has covered and reported on crime and cops, courts and trials in several Florida cities. He has had one novel, “The Exile of Ellendon” published in the U.S. and Great Britain as well as short stories published in the U.S., Canada, Australia and England. He has written a series of very different novels under another name.

  FIND DANIEL QUENTIN STEELE ON-LINE

  E-MAIL: Daniel Quentin Steele

  FACEBOOK: Daniel Quentin Steele

  ~Reader comments are welcome and solicited~

  If you enjoyed this book, you might want to check out:

  When We Were Married: Volume 2 – Second Acts (currently available from Smashwords and Barnes and Noble.)

  When We Were Married: Volume 3 -- The Wind is Rising (scheduled to be released before the end of 2012)

  When We Were Married: Volume 4-- Nobody Gets Out Alive (coming in 2013)

  Anyone who has enjoyed the WWWM story is encouraged to check out “Ghosts and Shadows,” a short novel and story collection which will be published in 2012. Bill Maitland and Debbie Bascomb appear – in one fashion or another in “Ghosts” and several characters from “Ghosts” will also or have also appeared in WWWM.

  All of the characters in WWWM and other novels and short story collections are part of the First Coast universe, a set of characters and events occurring in Northeast Florida in the first decade of the 21st century.

 

 

 


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