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Steamy Dorm

Page 115

by Kristine Robinson

That was all the time they needed. Riley watched as Jordan took the signal and tackled Larry’s knees while Riley flipped around and punched him hard in the throat with a ridge hand move. He gasped, weakening his grip on the machete as Jordan knocked it away into the dark grass.

  Riley jumped to her feet and using all her strength applied a back heel karate stomp to his forehead knocking him unconscious.

  “Oh, my God! We did it. He is out cold!” Jordan shouted with glee.

  “No, we did it!” Riley corrected her as Jordan leapt into her arms.

  CHAPTER 10

  “So, how does it feel to be Lieutenant Daniels?” Jordan asked as Riley handed her a beer.

  Riley could not stop the grin that spread across her face as she sat down on the couch beside her. Lieutenant Daniels… she could not stop smiling every time she heard that.

  “It feels great,” Riley said. “Like a real dream come true.”

  “Well, you deserve every bit of it; you are by far the best cop on the force.”

  “Well, I think you are a bit prejudiced because I’m your girl, but thanks anyway.”

  Jordan smiled and took a long drink of her beer.

  Riley waited a moment and then asked the question she had been dreading. “So, what now?”

  “What now? I don’t know…”Jordan said trailing off. She kept avoiding this discussion, but it had to be now or never.

  “Are you going back to Miami?”

  “I really don’t know,” Jordan said. “I have my life there now; my business I’ve worked so hard to make a success. I just don’t know if I can leave that behind. But I definitely can’t leave you behind and your life is here. The people of this city need you.”

  “Well, I need you,” Riley said reaching out and grabbing Jordan’s hand.

  “I know,” Jordan said. She took a deep breath and the two of them sat in silence for a minute. Riley tried to ignore the pain in her chest, nagging and brutal. Why was this so hard?

  “Which is why I’ve decided to stay here in Oklahoma,” Jordan said. “At least for a little while.”

  Riley could not believe her ears.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I’ve made my decision. My assistant manager can run things for a few months and she can call me if any disasters happen. I might even toy with opening a branch of the restaurant around here.”

  Riley felt the tears trying to push through again; she had never cried so much in all her life as she had the past few days. But her emotions had never been so jerked around back and forth either. And this was the happiest news she ever could have received.

  “I can’t tell you what this means to me… the happiness I feel right now,” Riley choked out.

  “Me too,” Jordan replied. “I am scared. I really am, but I’m learning to face my fears. You taught me that. I want to give us a chance and see how it goes; I want to really put everything into us.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Riley said. “I’m afraid too; I’m terrified that you will grow bored here and leave me to go back to your exciting Miami life. But I know that we just have to have faith and believe in us and our love. I know we will make it through. We’ve already been through so much; I think we can make it through anything, baby.”

  Jordan leaned over and kissed Riley passionately, her hands already moving up her shirt to grab her large breasts, squeezing strongly powering through the bra and massaging the thick flesh beneath. Riley felt the wave of excitement roll over her entire body, her wetness already starting to build. She had been thinking of this nonstop since the last time. She craved Jordan’s touch, needed it more than any addict could ever need a fix.

  Riley quickly pulled off her shirt, revealing her waiting body, and putting it all on display for her perfect lover. Jordan smiled as her eyes rolled over Riley’s body, soaking it all into her visual senses, licking her lips, her sexy tongue rolling across her lips leaving a beautiful trail of moisture that sprung forth another wave of wetness between Riley’s legs.

  Jordan quickly pulled off her own shirt and then her bra, taking this strip tease up another notch as she smiled widely, her eyes never leaving the sweater meat of Riley’s chest. Riley marveled at the curves and smooth skin that made up the amazing globes of flesh residing on Jordan’s chest. The pink berries were already hard, succulent, and ready to be kissed.

  Riley wasted no time; she planted her face quickly, placing one engorged nipple into her mouth, tasting the slightly salty, smooth flesh, engulfing the scent of Jordan’s beauty into her mouth. Her tongue instantly went to work flowing over top the tips and the areolas, sucking hard and then just gliding her probe over top of them.

  Jordan moaned softly as she pressed Riley’s face closer to her chest, her other hand moving across Riley’s back, scraping the nails slightly sending tingles skyrocketing up and down her spine. Riley felt her body rise up involuntarily just a little bit as she gasped, her hot breath seeming to add excitement to the had tip of Jordan’s fleshy melons in her mouth.

  Jordan continued to scratch and then rub Riley’s back, pressing deeper into a total massage using both hands now, going up and down the back, and even into her lower back. It had been so long since Riley had a massage; she always left the masseuse feeling so horny that she could not stand it and often would have to pull the car over to a fairly secluded spot to take care of herself before she got home. She always used to think it was just from the contact, but now that she thought about it she knew that it was a lot more than that. It was because she craved the love, the touch, and the desire of a woman.

  With a sudden flick of Jordan’s wrist Riley’s bra came off, freeing her huge breasts.

  “There we go,” Jordan purred as her left hand came around and grabbed a huge handful of fleshy, fat, chest. Riley gasped again as her sensitive nipples grazed across Jordan’s palm, enjoying the intermittent pulsating squeeze that Jordan was delivering to her.

  “You like that…” Riley said, her voice purring out of her throat as she moaned with pleasure.

  “Oh, yea…” Jordan replied following it up by lifting Riley’s face from her chest to her lips and shoving her tongue hard down her throat, taking her totally by surprise as she surrendered to it, fighting back with her own tongue but losing this battle as Jordan sucked on her tongue hard, her own probing flesh instrument gliding along the back of Riley’s throat. She allowed herself to relax and let herself be used and taken.

  Jordan pulled back suddenly. “I know what I’m going to do to you,” she said grabbing Riley’s hand and taking her into the bedroom. She dimmed the lights just enough to set the mood and then walked to the center of the floor where she finished stripping. Riley’s jaw popped open as she watched this vision of absolute beauty standing naked in front of her.

  “Do it,” Jordan said snapping her fingers.

  Riley played along, allowing Jordan to take charge of the situation. She was finding that even though she was very alpha in real life she enjoyed giving up control and allowing Jordan to take charge in the bedroom. There was something about getting in touch with her inner masochist that was so erotic and intense.

  Riley did as she was ordered and removed her pants pulling her panties along with them. Her wet mound quivered slightly in the cool air of the bedroom; it was very nice.

  “Now lay on the bed, on your back and start playing with yourself,” Jordan ordered.

  Riley smiled and did as she was told. The bed felt warm and inviting beneath her as she lie down, spreading her legs and fingering herself. The moisture began to spread even more from her dripping cavern. She was getting so hot.

  Jordan opened up the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out something. As Riley looked closer she could see it was a strap on. The idea definitely intrigued her.

  Jordan quickly put it on. It was pink and flesh colored, long and thick. Something about the way that Jordan wore it made the phallic symbol so much more appealing than a real one connected to a man’s physique had ever b
een.

  Jordan stood at the edge of the bed. “Are you ready?” she asked.

  Riley smiled. This was going to be interesting. “Yes,” she said.

  Jordan climbed between her legs and before Riley knew what was happening she felt the thick member of the strap on invading her body, spreading her wet slit to accommodate its huge girth. She had expected Jordan to go slow but she did her own thing and was deeply penetrating Riley in seconds.

  “Oh shit!”

  It touched every single nerve, every delightful button of pleasure and suddenly Riley’s whole body was quivering. It felt so good, not just because of the pleasure of being filled but because Jordan was doing it. It was like an extension of her nub, entering her, pulling out all the way and carefully pushing against her knot before invading her sheath.

  “You like that? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty girl?” Jordan asked as she pushed harder and harder into Riley’s wet core.

  Riley wrapped her legs around Jordan and allowed her to penetrate her harder and faster.

  “Oh, yes! Give it to me!”

  Jordan did as she was told and as she bent forward kissing Riley she knew she was going to finish soon. Riley prepared herself mentally, feeling Jordan’s hot breath, her sweet womanly scent spreading all over her, the climax was happening.

  She came hard, screaming out a huge belt of noise erupting from her throat as she did, finally relaxing her knees and waiting for the aftershocks to subside.

  Jordan kissed her sweetly with a smile. “I think you enjoyed that…”

  “You tell me,” Riley said as she quickly grabbed Jordan and flipped her over onto her back.

  She removed the strap on from Jordan and placed it on herself. Jordan’s eyes lit up widely as she lay back, her legs spread, using her fingers to move the moisture all of her privates, readying herself for action.

  Riley pressed the strap on deeply inside of Jordan, who laughed with glee. She was enjoying every single second of it.

  Riley had to admit she loved the control this gave her; the feeling of riding this beautiful woman and penetrating her, giving her what she wanted and needed.

  And she loved the way the strap on pushed tightly against her own nub. She was not expecting that, but with every thrust it pressed against her giving her insane pleasure. And before she knew it she felt the climax starting to build again as she could hear and almost feel Jordan’s, her slit tightening around the thick shaft.

  “Oh shit!” Riley said.

  “That’s it baby! I’m going to come!” Jordan screamed.

  A second later she did, hard and wet all over the thickness that was invading her body as Riley continued to push harder and harder, the backlash pushing her over the edge as well until the two lovers were finishing at the same time.

  Afterwards they lay in the afterglow, snuggling softly with each other’s naked bodies.

  “Well, I can’t wait to see what you show me next,” Riley said.

  Jordan just laughed. “Oh, it will blow your mind, I promise.”

  With that she bent down and kissed Riley before the two soulmates drifted off to sleep.

  Love And Crime

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A Thriller & Suspense Lesbian Romance

  What am I doing, standing outside my boss’s house with a pair of concert tickets in my hand? Trying to flirt with him to convince him to give me a promotion at the bank wasn’t the smartest idea I ever had. But when gunfire erupts inside the house and a young boy runs fleeing for his life, crazy things start to happen that turn my world upside down.

  Gun-weilding henchmen, drug-addled bag ladies, and the biggest bank heist in history lead me on a wild ride across the country, with a little help from danger, intrigue, justice, and good old fashioned romance. Can I save a boy in danger, a broken-hearted junkie, and maybe even myself from flying bullets and evil embezzlers? Can love really conquer all and transform a couple of lost sheep, or will my friends and I end up in a shallow grave in the middle of North Dakota wilderness?

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  I always was a sucker for a tailored suit. Little Aimee Springfield from Worcester Mass. would sit up and beg with her tongue hanging out for any tailored suit and Rolex watch.

  That’s how I wind up in Mr. Fancy Pants’ garden with my hand hovering over the kitchen door handle. Don’t ask all the crazy stuff I told myself to get there. I saw dollar signs. Maybe I made them all up, but I still saw them, and how else was I going to get them? If I could get into Mr. Fancy Pants’ pants, I would be riding the gravy boat to Austin.

  But that’s another story. No one wants to hear my tale of woe slaving eight hours at the bank teller window. No one needs to know, anyway. All anybody needs to know is that I’m standing in Mr. Fancy Pants’ garden with my hand sticking out in front of me to knock on the kitchen door.

  No front door for me. That’s not how I planned to become Miss Fancy Pants. That would be the straightforward way. Anyway, that job is already taken by Mrs. Gucci Rides in a Limo. That’s Mr. Fancy Pants’ wife. She visited him down at the bank a few times. I couldn’t miss her with her blue-rinse hair and six thousand dollar shoes.

  There I go, dwelling again on the past. I’ll stop that one of these days. I promise.

  Back in the garden, I almost knock―almost, but not quite. That’s how desperate I am. I can’t wait to pull down my Fancy Pants and be Mr. Fancy Pants’ next thing on the side. Dollar signs, I’m telling you.

  I never knock, though. I never get a chance.

  I pull the Symbiosis concert tickets out of my pocket. I have it all planned out. He’ll melt into my arms and into my pants as soon as he sees those tickets. I have them all ready to hold up as soon as he opens the door. He’ll never be able to resist.

  I put out my hand to knock, but I can’t exactly knock with the tickets in my hand. I quick try to transfer them to my other hand, but the slippery devils flutter out of my grasp and land on the wet grass. I curse my luck and bend down the pick them up when BANG!!

  For a minute, I wonder if I’ve gone deaf. I can’t hear a thing, and everywhere I look makes no sense at all. Somehow I get the tickets back in my hand. Did a car just backfire, or did my ears just pop? Maybe I’m going crazy after all. I always suspected it would happen someday.

  There’s me looking all around like a stunned mullet. There’s two Symbiosis tickets sticking out of my hand for all the world to see—except Mr. Fancy Pants. That’s the tragic truth. He never even sees ‘em. He never even knows I’m there. That’s the story of my life.

  Then another ear-splitting explosion rocks my world, and this time, something shatters the window next to the kitchen door and zings past my ear. It hits the tree behind me, and the kitchen door flies back. Lucky I’m standing far enough away, or it would smash me in the face.

  Someone shoots past me going a mile a minute when another blast flashes beyond the door. That’s when I see him. There’s Mr. Fancy Pants, my so-called Knight In Shining Armor, my gravy boat to Austin and all that tish-tosh. He stands on the far side of the kitchen with a gun in his hand and aims it right at me.

  I open my mouth and hiccup like a fish out of water. Does he really hate me that much for coming around his house, trying to flirt with him? His lips quiver back from his bared teeth, and sweat streaks his round dome. He squeezes the pistol grip to fire again, but the door slams back and sticks. The pigeon has flown the coop.

  That’s when my addled brain—if you can call it that—starts working again. Smoke comes out of my ears. I turn around to see who ran through the door to get away from that last shot. A young boy runs down the street away from the house. He’s got nothing on but T-shirt and a ratty pair of jeans, which isn’t much in Michigan in October, if you see what I mean. No shoes, no socks, nothing.

  He skids around the corner and disappears.

  I never claimed to be any kind of rocket scientist. They don’t generally get hired down at the bank. I’m not a robot, th
ough. I’ve got a heart, if I’ve got nothing else. Mr. Fancy Pants bank manager just shot a gun at a fleeing child. Two tickets to Symbiosis and a gravy boat to Austin don’t change that. That kid wasn’t old enough to pack his own ham sandwich for lunch.

  I never knew I could think that fast, but I don’t think twice. I drop the tickets and hot-foot it out of that garden. I don’t want Mr. Fancy Pants to catch me there, not with a gun in his hand. I never want to see Mr. Fancy Pants or his performance evaluation sheets again, and I certainly don’t want to buy my way into his hotel room with my bare assets exposed for the price of two lousy concert tickets.

  I hit the bricks and follow the boy. Whoever that kid is, Mr. Fancy Pants just shot at him three times right in front of me. That means trouble. I don’t know much, but I know trouble when I see it. Frith knows, I’ve seen enough of it to know, and that kid needs something. He needs someone. He needs a warm jacket, if nothing else, but I’d bet a lot more than those blinking concert tickets cost me he needs an eyewitness that some big shot bank manager just tried to gun him down in cold blood. Whoever he is, wherever he’s going, he needs help, and he needs it from me.

  I skate around the corner just in time to see the kid running down the block. Then, out of nowhere, a red Honda Civic screeches around the corner and guns the engine to catch up with him. I should have gone to the gym all those times I said I was going to, ‘cuz my lungs are on fire and I have to run faster than ever to catch up.

  The car hits the brakes and veers into the curb. Two big burly men jump out and set off after the kid. They don’t see me behind them, thank the stars, or my number would be up.

  I’m falling farther and farther behind, but that turns out to be a good thing. The kid sees the men gaining on him. He jumps a fence into an alley and disappears, but the men are too big and heavy to climb over it after him. They run up and down the fence, but they can’t find a way into that alley. The red Civic pulls up alongside and picks them up.

 

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