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by angelaw


  Jonas barely heard her as his brain attempted to sort out the colorful chaos surrounding him. It was a huge loft apartment with few walls—a draped area in one corner barely concealed a mussed bed and there was the requisite furniture, but it was filled with oddities and stuff he hadn’t seen since an ex-girlfriend had dragged him to a new-age antique show. Which was an oxymoron but he’d gone anyway.

  His gaze fell on a huge stuffed moose head high on one wall. It looked flea-bitten and mangy and for some reason its eyes were crossed. A piece of Christmas tree tinsel dangled from one antler.

  There were a few chunks of sparkly rock, some posters for obscure bands, an ottoman about to disgorge its intestines, candles everywhere, masses of brilliant pillows scattered like peacock feathers here and there—he didn’t know if this was enchanting or nauseating.

  Oblivious to his confusion, Ms. Fishnets grabbed his arm and led him to the window. “Look. Here.” She pointed. “This is where I’ve seen them. Not any regular pattern, but always just after dark. Sometimes once, sometimes twice a week. Last week I didn’t see them at all, but they were back yesterday and I saw them again tonight.” He nodded. Then his gaze landed on her drafting table. “Holy shit.”

  “What?”

  “It’s—it’s—” He was at a loss for words.

  “Yeah. Suzie.” She shrugged.

  “You’re her?”

  14

  My Fishnet Fetish

  Nadine snorted, glanced down at herself then looked back at Jonas with a wry lift of one eyebrow. “Only in my dreams.”

  Jonas couldn’t quite get his head around it. “God, we love Suzie. We’ve got posters of her in the pigpen.”

  “I’m flattered.” The tone was dry.

  “No seriously. The pigpen’s the detectives’ briefing room. We all read her. Can’t wait for the next episode. Shit.” He shook his head in amazement. “Wait ‘til the guys hear I’ve met the real Steampunk Suzie.” Nadine cleared her throat. “Just to clarify. I’m Nadine Summers, Detective. Not Steampunk Suzie. I create her. She’s a cartoon character.” She straightened her shoulders. “Could we get back to business here?” Jonas grinned. “Sure. Sorry—you’ll have to bear with me. I’m just having a star-struck moment here, Ms. Summers.”

  She was silent for a moment, then smiled back. “Okay.” She stuck out her hand.

  “Call me Dini.”

  “Thanks, Dini. Sorry again. I’m Jonas.” He took her hand and shook it.

  “So you said.”

  Her hand felt warm in his, tiny and delicate. He stayed holding it for a few seconds longer than he should have, wondering if the spark in her eyes was reflected by the heat in his. The heat which soared from his balls to the base of his skull and threatened to make his eyes water.

  He cleared his throat, letting go of her reluctantly and turning back to the window.

  “So, show me where you saw this again?”

  She ran through the details, white van, three men, ages, clothing, race and so on.

  She was thorough, observant and might not realize it but was describing a small group they’d had on their radar for some time. It was useful information, but Jonas couldn’t reveal how useful it was to a civilian.

  15

  Sahara Kelly

  No matter how good she looked in fishnet tights.

  Trying his best to ignore his arousal and maintain the “professional” thing, Jonas took out his phone and jotted a few notes into the memo function.

  “Oh, coooool.” She leaned over and watched him. “I really wanted one of those, but I didn’t know how good they were.”

  He glanced up, trying his best not to notice the top of her purple corset, which had crept lower and even now threatened to expose a nipple. If she breathed any deeper or leaned in any further—Jesus, he’d come in his jeans.

  “It’s great. I like it. Good technology and really useful.” Which was a helluva lot more appropriate answer than can-I-tug-that-top-down-and-suck-your-tits?

  He heaved in a breath and focused on his phone. “Got it. You have a good eye for details, Ms.— Dini.”

  “Thank you, Jonas. Glad you approve.” She stepped back, without—

  unfortunately—revealing any more breast.

  “Okay then.” His head was clearing. A little. “I guess that’s it.” He pocketed the cell phone. “Unless you want me to take a look at the toilet issue?”

  “Detectives know anything about toilets?”

  “We pee in ‘em occasionally.”

  “Seat down afterwards, I hope?”

  “Of course. We’re public servants. We protect and serve. Up to and including putting the seat down.” He grinned. “Sometimes.”

  “Well, if it’s not too much trouble…” She paused and glanced at the clock. “Doesn’t look like the plumber’ll be showing up now. Too late, I guess.”

  “And since my shift’s over, I’m free to take a look for you. Dunno if I can fix it, but I’ve run into a few handle-jigglers in my time.”

  “Haven’t we all.” She laughed and turned away from him. “It’s over here.” 16

  My Fishnet Fetish

  Jonas let his eyes wander over her rear view, which was just about as appealing as the front one. That black lace didn’t do a damn thing to hide her ass cheeks, rounded and full and one helluva handful. There was a tiny purple strip delineating her butt where the matching thong panties rose beneath the fishnets.

  God help him he was getting hard all over again. Plus she smelled sexy. Something womanly and tangy in the air around her.

  Maybe he ought to fix her toilet then put his head in it and flush. Perhaps he just needed a cold shower. He was going way off track here on what should’ve been a simple follow-up.

  But damn. It was Suzie, for Chrissake. Jonas was only a poor mortal male with a thing for fishnets. What was he to do?

  He followed her into the bathroom, his lungs seizing as she bent over the john and turned on the water. He got an eyeful of her ass, her thong, her thighs and a brief glimpse of soft pussy lips where the lace tugged tight between them.

  He gasped. He couldn’t help it, since the lust that grabbed him by the cock was harsh and immediate.

  She didn’t move, merely grinned over her shoulder. “Got a thing for ass, Detective?”

  “Last time I checked, I had a pulse although I’m not sure if I’m breathing right this second.” He swallowed. “Sure I’ve got a thing for ass. Got an ever bigger thing for an ass in fishnet tights, if you want the truth.”

  He felt his eyes widen as she shamelessly parted her legs a little, widening her stance and letting him see her tights were—Lord save him— crotchless. Then she wiggled her ass.

  “Dini, it’s a capital crime to kill an officer of the law.” He clutched his heart and leaned against the doorjamb. “No matter how you do it.” She giggled naughtily. “Thanks for telling me.”

  17

  Sahara Kelly

  “It’s an official warning. You do that again and I’m dead. The number for the Coroner’s office is in my phone’s address book.” She straightened up, a wicked smirk still lingering around those pouty lips of hers.

  “There you go. Have at it.”

  “Huh?”

  “The toilet, Jonas. It’s dripping again.”

  “Yes.”

  “You said you’d take a look at it?” Dini nudged him gently in the ribs.

  “What? Oh. Yeah, sorry.” He moved past her. Carefully. He was really afraid that if he touched her his gun might go off. Or his service revolver. Either one wouldn’t be good.

  Lifting the lid off the tank, Jonas sighed. “Forgive me. I’m a certified victim of fishnet-itis. I see gorgeous legs in ‘em and portions of my brain shut down. I’ve been known to faint.”

  He heard her laugh as he began to fiddle with things inside the tank. “Thanks for the compliment. And I’m sorry I teased you. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for killing anyone, that’s for sure.”

  �
�That’s okay. I’ll do my best to hang on to my sanity, but it won’t be easy…” He delved down and unclipped something that caught his attention. “Aha.”

  “Aha what?”

  He could feel her heat as she stretched over to see what he was doing. His mind struggled valiantly to keep on topic. “Here. Here’s your problem.”

  “Good lord.”

  Dini watched him in fascination as he produced the flapper and removed a tiny bit of gold. “That’s the problem?”

  “Yep.” Jonas nodded. “It was lodged in the rubber here, see? It was just enough to stop the flapper from seating properly and sealing the tank.” 18

  My Fishnet Fetish

  “Well I’ll be damned.” She took the little gold ring from him and stared at it as he replaced the bits and pieces. And sure enough, there was blessed silence as he finished the job.

  Absently, she passed him a hand towel. “Thanks. I can’t believe something this small caused all that trouble.”

  “An earring?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I wondered where this had gone, as a matter of fact. It’s my nipple ring. I wonder how it got in there?”

  Jonas couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to her corseted cleavage. He gulped.

  “Beats me.”

  She giggled, a light sound that charmed him. “Well, hey. You fixed the tank. You’re my hero of the hour.”

  Turning, she left the bathroom, once again seriously damaging Jonas’ cerebral matter with a flash of her curvy buttocks and her fishnets. God, those things were lethal. Helpless before such an attack, Jonas followed her.

  “You know, I owe you something for this.” She held up the ring. “The plumber would’ve charged me an arm and a leg. Would you settle for a beer?” She looked hopeful. “There’s a real neat bar just down the street. Quiet, cozy—I go there now and again. Think you’d be violating any law enforcement rules if you joined me?” Jonas considered the invitation. He’d been planning to head home, grab something from his freezer, nuke it, and eat it while trying to find a channel on TV that had a few positive comments about any of his favorite sports teams. He’d also been planning on indulging in a beer or two.

  So his choices were a frozen entrée alone in his apartment—or more time with an erotically-charged fishnet-wearing pixie. Who happened to be Steampunk Suzie’s mom.

  Duh.

  “Sounds great.”

  19

  Sahara Kelly

  “Cool.” She fluttered purple wings at him as she strode across the large living room. “Turn around and close your eyes. I gotta change before I go out.” Doing as he was bid, he grinned. “Don’t dress up on my account. The wings—

  maybe. But those ears? Pretty damn sexy.”

  Her giggle drifted suggestively around him. “Who said I was dressing up? I might decide to take something off…”

  Jonas squeezed his eyes tightly shut and offered up a prayer. Not the fishnets, Lord.

  Please not the fishnets.

  20

  My Fishnet Fetish

  Chapter Three

  Dini pushed the two empties to the side of the table and lifted her third beer to her lips. She enjoyed moments like these, places like these.

  Nothing fancy, nothing up-market, this little corner bar pretended to be nothing other than what it was—a place to sit, enjoy a few drinks and maybe catch a game on the big screen TV on the wall amidst the liquor bottles. There were some neon advertising signs, photos of old Cambridge on the walls and an air of comfortable contentment.

  And Jonas sitting across the table.

  He wasn’t part of the comfortable thing at all. He was definitely making Dini itchy in all the girl places. “Handsome” wasn’t a word she’d use to describe him, but he had the most gorgeous hazel eyes. Eyes were a turn-on for Dini, along with a good laugh which Jonas also possessed. It rang out a lot as they started on their first beers and the little private journey that she knew would end up with them both naked.

  She could see heat in those eyes, desire, arousal—all the good stuff. His body was lean, his legs long and his hands well shaped. Yeah, he was probably really good with his hands.

  She made him laugh as she related her adventures with Suzie. And he returned the favor by sharing some of his experiences as a cop. The air around them seemed to grow warm as it rested on Dini’s neck. She shifted in her loose black sweater, the corset beneath cutting more sharply into her breasts as her own arousal notched its way up the scale to “wet and ready”.

  The conversation shifted into other channels as she told him about I.M. Blue and her writing. For his part, Jonas talked about the decision to go into law enforcement over his family’s objections.

  21

  Sahara Kelly

  Dini realized he was a wonderful listener when, to her surprise, she found herself touching on Alan and her widowhood. And appreciating that he didn’t offer pity or sympathy, just an acknowledgment of her pain. She didn’t share personal stuff on a whim. It was out of character for her.

  Time to steer the conversation back to where it was supposed to be.

  “So now I’ve spilled my guts, I have to ask.” She glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes. “You married? Seeing anyone? In a—” her fingers lifted into little quotation marks, “relationship? You gay?”

  Jonas blinked then snorted. “No, not at the moment, no and hell no.” Dini nodded. “Good. Next question. You into kink?” He considered the question. “Define kink.”

  “I believe it falls into the non-vanilla sex category.”

  “Bondage? That sort of thing?”

  Dini nodded again. “Yes.”

  “A time or two.” Jonas’ eyes were intense, fixed on her face.

  “Cool. I need to do some research. How about we go back to my place and you can help me figure out a few new scenes for Suzie?” She lifted an eyebrow at him.

  He watched her. “Just so we’re clear here, and in the interests of full disclosure, you’re inviting me back to your place so we can indulge in some decadent kink that will probably lead to sex.”

  Dini grinned. “Really hot sex.”

  Jonas stood up, his chair scraping on the floor as he motioned to the waitress.

  “Check please.”

  Following his lead, Dini stood and grabbed her bag, trying hard to suppress the growing bubble of excitement. Her jeans were clammy between her thighs, her breasts aching and her palms damp. She wanted this man, wanted a night of no-holds barred lust. She knew he’d be good and she’d enjoy it.

  22

  My Fishnet Fetish

  And if there was a little voice telling her she might want it more than once, she ignored it. Dini never repeated herself. But she sure was going to make the most of this opportunity.

  Jonas tossed some bills toward their waitress and grabbed Dini by the wrist. “One thing.” He held her tightly. “I have to know. Did you take anything off other than the ears and the wings?”

  She flashed a wicked glance at his face, noting the concentration in his gaze and the color dusting his cheekbones. “Only my thong. I hate wearing panties under my jeans.” His gulp was audible and Dini stumbled as Jonas rushed her out of the bar.

  * * * * *

  “Jesus, you weren’t lying.”

  Jonas’ hands were full of Dini’s ass, their heat burning past the fishnet and into her skin as he delved inside her jeans. They’d barely made it past the closing of her apartment door before his mouth was on hers, fierce and harsh and forcing her lips apart so that he could plunder her mouth.

  It was just what she wanted, everything she’d hoped for.

  “I never lie,” she mumbled past his tongue, then bit it gently, sucking on it and pulling it deeper against her own.

  His taste was all man, tangy with beer and flavored with something uniquely him, a hint of power buried within the savory blend. His arms were banding her tightly to his chest, her clothes an annoyance that was growing by the second. She wanted him naked aga
inst her own flesh, his hardness crushed into her softness.

  Desire rose to claw at her throat. “Fuck me, Jonas. Hard.”

  “I will.” He pulled back a little, reached into his back pocket and stared at her, a pulse fluttering at the base of his neck. “But you said you wanted research. How about these?”

  He lifted his hand to show her his cuffs.

  23

  Sahara Kelly

  She sucked in a breath, the excitement screaming through every vein, every nerve ending. “Oh yes.” It was barely a whisper, which surprised Dini since a scream would have better suited her emotional state.

  Jonas’ head jerked once in a taut move indicating his approval. He stepped away from her body and gestured with his hand to her sweater. “Take that off.” Eagerly Dini stripped away her sweater and tossed it aside, revealing the purple corset. Jonas drew in a breath then reached for her wrists. With a sharp snap he fastened the cuffs then glanced at her. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” There were more words, more thoughts screaming through her head but the one affirmative was all she could manage to utter past the lump of arousal clogging her throat.

  Looking around, she saw Jonas notice her jacket hook, a sturdy wrought iron affair high up on one wall. She used it in the winter to hang snowy outer garments since it was beyond her reach for practical purposes.

  “Come with me.” Jonas grasped one arm and drew her beneath the hook, then frowned and dragged a nearby footstool beneath it. “Stand on that.” He noticed the embroidered elephant decorating the top. “You Republican?”

  “Hell no. I’m an Eccentric Independent. I write in Zaphod Beeblebrox every time I vote, but he never gets elected.”

  Jonas chuckled. “You take your towel into the booth?” She flashed him a surprised glance as she stepped onto the stool and choked out a laugh. “Yes. Good Lord. How on earth—”

  “I do read, you know.”

  Jonas lifted her arms then raised her body a little, hooking the cuffs over the black metal knob. The distance was perfect. Dini was suspended, helpless, feet resting on the stool and hands above her head.

 

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