The Strong, Silent Type

by Patricia Green

  His fingers traced the seam of her bottom, then slid between her legs. She was very wet and slippery. Her hot juices quickly coated his fingers. Her pussy was tight when he pushed a finger into her and, once again, he found evidence that she was not an easy woman; it was obvious that a man hadn't penetrated her in some time. He pistoned his finger in and out of her as she writhed against his hand. When he touched her clit, she cried out his name softly.

  Her clit was swollen and hard, eager to be teased. He manipulated it and she panted harder, moaning softly and writhing against his hands. She smelled sweet and musky, with the mix of her store-bought and natural perfumes.

  He felt like his cock was going to burst through his slacks, but he wanted her to come, wanted to hear and feel her reaction. So he worried her clit and fucked her with his fingers. Her body flushed and the writhing stopped as every muscle in her tensed. She gasped and then cried out. "Oh God! Drake!"

  It was some of the sweetest music he'd ever heard and his emotions surged along with the throb of his prick. Her pussy squeezed his fingers rhythmically along with her panting breath.

  "Good girl," he said softly. Now it was his turn. He removed his hands from her and wiped his fingers on her smooth, red bottom. The button on his pants fought him, but he won the battle and unzipped his pants. His cock bulged in his black shorts, and as he reached for it, he cursed.

  "Shit!"

  "What?"

  "I don't have a fuckin' condom!"

  "Drake, I don't care. I haven't been with a man in almost two years. I'm safe."

  "I haven't been with a woman in months, Mae, but we ought to be careful."

  "But I want ta feel you inside me!"

  "You don't happened to have a glove, do you?"

  "Why would I have one? I thought it was men who carried them around in their wallets."

  "That's a myth." He moved away from her and got a blanket from his satchel of emergency supplies. It fit well in the small open floor space in his office. "I have an idea. Go lie on the blanket."

  She rose from her bend over the desk. "What are we going ta do?"

  "You'll see. Do you have any hand lotion?"

  Mae looked a little skeptical, her breath normal now that the heat of the moment had passed. Drake was still ragingly hard, though, and she touched his bulge as she squeezed by him on her way to the blanket. Her look held playful longing. And he growled in frustration.

  She took a small tube of hand lotion from her purse and tossed it to him, then arranged herself on the blanket, face up. Her upraised arms encouraged him to press her legs open and use his thick cock where she wanted it. But he didn't cooperate.

  Drake enjoyed the sight of her as he removed his clothing as quickly as he could. When he released his prick, a wave of pleasure washed over him along with the cool air of the room. He took himself in hand and slid his palm up and down his rigid staff, then got down on his knees next to Mae on the blanket.

  "Close your legs, honey."

  "Close? But?"

  "Close. Yeah, that's right." He climbed over her abdomen and squatted over her ribcage, carefully keeping his weight on his powerful thighs. Drake squeezed a good amount of hand lotion on her chest and put the tube aside. "Now press your pretty tits together."

  "You mean like this?" Her hands cupped her breasts and pushed them together in the middle of her chest.

  "Perfect." Slowly, he slid his pulsing dick into the padded enclosure she'd made of her breasts. It felt soft, slippery, tight; just as he imagined her pussy would feel. He tilted his head back and just felt for a moment. When he looked down at her again, he slid out and reached for her hard, protruding nipples. He tweaked them and she gasped and moaned. As he slid in again, she began to breathe hard.

  "You're so sexy, Drake." Her voice was soft, eager.

  He began to move in and out of the envelope, enjoying the friction and the feel of her nipples under his fingers and the excitement he saw on her face.

  Picking up the pace, he watched her; she was getting more and more into it. As his phallus protruded beyond her breasts, toward her face, she rubbed her smooth chin against the head, and licked her lips.

  "I want you in my mouth."

  "Not this time, babe." Soon enough, the friction began to overwhelm him, the sensation powerful. He was almost there. Almost. He teased her nipples again and she moaned. Stroking faster and faster, enclosed in the soft hollow, he felt his balls tighten. He groaned and thrust one more time and then the surge hit him and he pulsed ejaculate all over her throat and chin. She made a small sound of delight, even as his warm semen dripped down into her outspread hair.

  "Mmm."

  He panted, and slowly withdrew. She released her breasts and smoothed his come down over her chest reverently.

  "I'll get you a towel."

  "Kiss me first?"

  Grinning, Drake took her face in his hands and bent down to take her lips. She smelled like sex, erotic and compelling, but her taste was pure Mae. Her mouth was soft, and her tongue ready to welcome him in. Their kiss was tender.

  "I'm buying a case of condoms, Drake."

  He laughed. "I'll make room in my wallet."

  Chapter Four

  Mae relived her recent encounter with Drake as she drove toward the reservation. Her damp hair blew in the wind from the car window. She'd gone home from the police station and showered and changed her clothes. In a weird way, she was sorry to get the smell of him off her body and hair. He was important to her and in his terse way, he communicated with her better than any man to whom she'd been attracted.

  When she discarded her rumpled dress and chose a concealing white blouse to cover up the pinkish bite mark at the side of her neck, she'd felt a little grief. A part of her wanted to wear the mark proudly, like a badge proclaiming, "I am Drake's girl, and he's my man!" But, of course, their relationship had to be kept secret. Between her father's strictures and the impropriety of the police chief having a romantic relationship with the victim of an unsolved crime, their encounters had to be clandestine. She hated it, but maybe it would work itself out. It had to because she didn't want to be forced to give up Drake because of other people's opinions.

  As she drove into the church parking lot, she saw Drake's police cruiser. She smiled at him as he walked toward it, but he only nodded slightly, his lips a straight line, as he walked by. Professional. Impersonal. Wholly unsatisfying.

  With a sigh, Mae proceeded to the bake sale.

  For two Wednesdays in June, Saint John's Catholic Church had a bake sale. The proceeds went to pay for summer camp for poor children both on the reservation and in Fire Gorge. It had been going on for only a few years, but the turnout was growing. More and more people contributed baked goods, and many more customers came by from Fire Gorge and nearby Campbellville.

  As Mae considered this year's offerings, she noticed that her presence was causing a minor stir. The reason was a mystery until she came to a table with bags of cookies for sale.

  "Hello."

  "Hi. Your cookies look delicious."

  The young Paiute woman offered Mae a sample. "Here, have one."

  Mae nibbled at a melt-in-your-mouth chocolate chip cookie and started rummaging in her purse for some money.

  The woman stared at her with friendly eyes. "You're Mae Weston, aren't you?"

  Mae looked up from her wallet. "Yeah. I'm sorry, have we met before? You look a little familiar, but I don't think I know you. Or, maybe I've just remember you from last year's bake sale? What I mean to say is..."

  She smiled warmly. "No, we haven't met before. I saw your picture in the paper. I'm very sorry about the robbery."

  "Well...it was scary, but they didn't get anything. The death was pretty awful."

  "I'm Jenny Stillwater, by the way," she said, offering her hand for a shake.

  Mae responded in kind. "It's nice ta meet you. You said your name is Stillwater?"

  "Yes."

  "You're related ta the police chief?"
/>
  "He's my brother-in-law."

  "Oh!"

  "I wish I had something other than apologies to offer after Lindy Oldman caused so much trouble."

  "Lindy?"

  "Aha. Our cousin. Didn't Drake tell you that Lindy was probably a participant in the robbery?"

  Mae took in the information and rolled it around for a moment. Drake's cousin was the missing robber. That put Drake in a really awful position. He couldn't be expected to capture and arrest his own cousin, could he? And, if it was against the rules for him to do it, then who would take over the case? A BIA security officer from the reservation? Someone Mae didn't know and might not trust?

  And why did he tell his family, but not Mae? That was pretty irritating.

  "No. He didn't tell me."

  Jenny looked embarrassed. "I'm probably speaking out of turn, then. I overheard my husband discussing it with Drake, and I just assumed..." She dropped her eyes to the table, and began to fidget with her bags of cookies. "You know what they say about assuming."

  Mae patted the other woman's arm. In a way, Jenny had done Mae a favor. "Don't give it another thought. I'm sure Chief Stillwater was going ta tell me the next time we talked."

  "Probably." Jenny's friendly gaze went to Mae's face again. "He tends to play his cards close to his chest."

  "Yeah, I guess so." She handed over a ten dollar bill in return for a bag of cookies--the whole point was to make a charitable donation. "I'm gonna head out now. I think I saw a peach pie at the next table. My mother loves peach pie."

  "Enjoy your sweets, Ms. Weston. And, please accept my apologies for my family's part in your awful experience."

  "No apology necessary. Take care, Mrs. Stillwater."

  Mae bought the peach pie and made her way to her parents' house in Fire Gorge. Her father wasn't yet home from the car lot, but her mother was there. She was always there. Agoraphobia kept her at home except for emergency situations or doctor's appointments. It often seemed to Mae that that's all her mother did: go to doctor appointments of one kind or another.

  She loved her mother, but that didn't mean she understood her.

  Mae's mother greeted her warmly. She was a round woman with a kind but distracted demeanor. She and her daughter both had red hair and light eyes, and their lips and noses were exactly alike, though Mae's mother was much more generously proportioned than Mae. Mae had seen pictures of her mother before Mae had come along, and mother and daughter were very similar, right down to their ample behinds.

  "I brought you a peach pie, Mama."

  Felicia took the pie with a big smile. "You're so sweet, honey. Would you like some iced tea? Will you stay for dinner?"

  Mae was tired. Her encounter with Drake hadn't been so much physically draining as it was emotionally charged. And then to find out that his cousin was the second robber... Mae wanted to think about that for a while, and dinner with her parents would prevent that.

  "Nothing, Mama. Thanks. I ought ta get home."

  Her mother's face fell, and Mae felt a surge of guilt.

  "Oh, honey, we hardly ever see you. Do you have plans? Do you have a date, maybe?"

  Wishing she could tell her mother about Drake, Mae settled for an honest shake of her head.

  "Sit, then. Let's at least catch up."

  "We talked on the phone just yesterday, Mama," she said, but she took the seat Felicia indicated.

  Her mother sat across from her and smoothed down her polyester slacks. "You look...different. Did you change your makeup?"

  Mae wondered if her faced showed the turmoil of her emotions. She smiled and changed the subject.

  "So...How are you today?" Getting her mother to talk about her health was usually a reliable way to distract her. But this time it didn't work.

  Felicia's blue eyes narrowed and then widened. "You have a boyfriend!"

  What was it with her mother? She could always read her like a book. "No. Maybe. Not exactly." She groaned. "I don't know."

  "You don't know? Mae, is something wrong? Is he someone you would be ashamed of?"

  "God no! I mean, if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't pick one I wasn't proud of."

  Her mother nodded. "I'm glad ta hear that. You're blushing. You always blush when I catch you in a lie, Mae. Tell me the truth now."

  "Aw, gee, Mama." Her mother had been her confidante for as long as she could remember. Although they rarely conspired to keep things from her father, it had happened in the past. And, Mae really needed someone to talk to. "Daddy wouldn't approve, that's all."

  "Ah." Felicia fussed with the collar of her oversized blue shirt. It was a sure sign that she was agitated. Maybe she was trying to decide just how much she wanted to know, just how much she was going to have to keep from her husband if Mae told her the whole truth. Apparently, she decided to take a chance. "Is he unemployed?"

  "No."

  "Is he a drug addict, an alcoholic, a criminal?"

  "Mama!"

  "Just asking." This time, the buttons on her shirt got her attention. "Is he from the reservation?"

  "I don't want ta talk about it."

  "Yes, you do. I can see it on your face. He's from the reservation."

  Mae sighed. "Yes and no. He is from the reservation, but he doesn't live there now. And it doesn't mean he's unacceptable. Daddy is a bigot."

  "Mae, don't badmouth your father."

  "But he is!"

  "He's only thinking about you, Mae. You'd be caught between worlds if you were ta take up with an Indian."

  "I don't care. He's smart, and professional. He's got a sense of humor. He's handsome. And, anyway, it can't go anywhere. It's just a temporary thing."

  "Mae Weston! Are you having an affair with a married man?"

  Mae frowned, her temper flaring. "You raised me better than that. Can't we just drop the subject?"

  "No." She put her hand out in a classic stopping gesture. "And don't you dare get up." Felicia bit her lip, making a decision. "I won't tell your father what you're up ta. But I want ta know. I care about you, honey."

  Mae gave up. Her mother always knew what to say to get the story out of her. And, she really wanted to tell her, just to have confirmation that she wasn't making a mistake. She locked eyes with her mother. "He's the Police Chief of Fire Gorge, Mama. Drake Stillwater."

  "My. Oh my."

  "I wish you'd been at his welcome pot-luck ta meet him, Mama. He's wonderful."

  "Lorelei tole me about him after the party." Lorelei was her mother's best friend and a member of the town council which had hired Drake. "She said he was college educated, and had a nice smile. He seemed perfectly qualified for the job. I suppose you met him after the robbery."

  Mae nodded. "He was very kind." Except for the spanking, and she was not going to tell her mother about that. Mae was still trying to figure out what it was about getting spanked that was so arousing.

  "Isn't it a conflict of interest for him ta be seeing you while he's working on your case?"

  "Yeah. We've been keeping it secret."

  "Mae, secrets have a habit of leaking out."

  She knew her mother was right, but that didn't change her feelings. Her father would just have to deal with it. Mae was twenty-five and didn't have to live under her father's thumb. Anyway, she wouldn't from now on. "The case will be closed soon. He has a line on the robber who got away."

  Her mother appeared to consider this. "Well, that's good at least."

  "Apparently, he knows the person."

  "That's too bad. It must be awkward."

  It occurred to Mae that maybe she could help him with his difficult family situation if she found the girl and coaxed her to turn herself in. That would take the onus off Drake to track her down and corner her. But where would she go? She wouldn't be on the reservation. The BIA would find her there in a heartbeat among the tiny Indian population. If it had been Mae running away, she'd head straight for Las Vegas. It would be easy to get lost among all the people there.

  "
Listen, Mama, I'm going ta go ta Las Vegas for a few days. I need some time off...ta consider things. I'll make arrangements for someone ta take my shifts at the store. Will you tell Daddy that I'll be gone?"

  Felicia nodded. "You know, Mae, I think that's a really good idea. You think this situation over and see how you really feel about Chief Stillwater. There are other fish in the sea."

  "Yes, Mama." Mae rose and gathered her purse, anxious to be out of there before her father got home. "You'll keep my secret?"

  "Yeah, but I don't like it. If it gets out-of-hand, I'll hafta tell your father."

  Mae sighed. "Yeah. I know." She hugged her mother and told her good-bye, eager to start on her new plan to help Drake out of his uncomfortable position.

  * * *

  "I brought breakfast."

  Drake stood on the balcony outside of Mae's apartment with a bag in-hand. He gave it a little shake and grinned.

  "Drake, it's six a.m." Mae stood at her open door, wearing only her bathrobe, her hair a mess and no makeup on. She'd been just about ready to step in the shower when he knocked. The water was still running in the bathroom.

  "Can I come in before someone sees me?"

  She poked her head out and looked around. No one was about, but better to be cautious. And, anyway, she felt a little shock of pleasure seeing him there. He was about as incognito as a man with his features could be, wearing jeans and a Henley shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. A gray Stetson sat atop his dark hair, looking as natural as his tan.

  "Yeah. Of course." She got out of his way and he entered.

  "Here." He offered the bag.

  Mae took it and looked inside. There were six doughnuts and a box of condoms. She couldn't help but laugh. "Making some assumptions, were you?"

  "You mean you don't like jelly doughnuts?"

  Her laughter rang out again. "Let me go turn off the water in the bathroom. I was just about ta get in the shower."