by Tia Fanning
“Yes, oh, Michael! Harder! Deeper! More! Make me come!”
She rubbed her clit as he pounded into her dripping hole, riding her until her body trembled violently and…
Nothing.
No orgasm, no fall into the abyss.
Just a numb throbbing.
She desperately needed this release. Why couldn’t she come? Angry, she pulled Bob out and flung him from her bed.
Why hadn’t she just asked Michael to come home with her when he issued the ticket? Why did she always get so tongue-tied and speechless? Better yet, why didn’t she leave the Volvo, physically pull out his dick, and have her wicked way with him right there and then? They could have done it on top of her car’s hood, in the backseat of his patrol car, on the grass beside the highway, or even in the middle of the highway for all she cared. Instead, her nerves had gotten the better of her once again.
When she wasn’t being shy, she was rambling like an idiot, as if no sensible thought existed in her world. Who in their right mind would want to deal with that?
Damn, at the rate she was going, she’d be a virgin forever.
Melanie got out of bed. Still undressed, she marched through her living room and straight outside into her backyard greenhouse. She walked through the aisles, trying to find comfort in the scents from the many species of flowers gathered there. She felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden. Now all she needed was Adam.
Maybe work would take her mind off her lack of satisfaction. Just because she wasn’t getting any didn’t mean her flowers couldn’t.
Gathering her tools, she set about trying to hand pollinate some of her hybrid creations, but found her fingers too shaky for the task.
She slammed her workbench with her fist. She was a ball of pent up sexual frustration, wound so tight that her imagination and battery operated toys couldn’t fulfill the overwhelming need in her body. Her pussy cried out for something more, something genuine. Her body wanted a flesh and blood, muscle and sinew, and a rock hard cock to finally make her a real woman.
She needed Michael.
Melanie stormed out of the greenhouse, slamming the door with a gratifying bang. She went inside and searched the kitchen counter for her keys. She was determined to go out and speed by Michael once again. But this time, she’d do it naked. Then she’d get him to screw her right and good. She needed his cock to fill her, to send her over the edge, to fucking color her world!
Keys! Where are my keys?
She grabbed her pocketbook and dumped the contents on the table. Nothing. She went into her bedroom and searched her armoire. Where in the hell were her freaking keys?
On her way to tear apart her bed, she stepped on firm vibrating rubber.
Stopping, she glanced down. There was poor Bob.
Hanging her head, she whispered, “Look at the way I treat you, after you’ve been nothing but good to me.” Her anger floated away as she dropped to her knees and scooped him up, holding him to her chest. “Sorry, bubbi. I just lost it for a moment.”
She turned him off and walked him into the bathroom, laying him on a towel beside the sink. “Give me a minute, hon. I’ll be back to clean you up later.”
Calmer now, Melanie brewed some tea and took it into her living room. Plunking down on the couch, she grabbed the book she’d ordered the day before off the coffee table.
Thankfully, Buster, the sixteen year-old that lived a couple of houses down, had been kind enough to pick it up from the bookstore. Actually, Buster was always good like that. He came by once a week to drop off her groceries. He probably ran her errands because of the large tips he received, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t stand waiting in those long lines and dealing with the pushy crowds. Besides, it was good for a teenager to earn money and learn responsibility.
She opened the book to the third chapter, ‘Creating the Look: What Men Are Seeing When They Look at You’. It was from reading this chapter that she decided to wear the sexy outfit. However, it was chapter five, ‘Catching His Attention: Tips on Getting Him to Notice You Every Time’ that inspired her to the ‘Oops, I dropped my license’ idea. At least that worked. He had let her kiss him.
But what about tomorrow?
After scanning the table of contents, she skipped to chapter eight, ‘Charming the Prince: You Have Him Interested… How Do You Secure The Catch?’
Chapter Three
Officer Michael Johnson threw the ticket on Miss Darling’s lap, then marched back toward his squad car.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“Not even a hello?” Melanie’s gentle words floated on the air, conveying her hurt feelings.
He didn’t respond. He would not—no, could not—play her games any longer.
Throwing himself into the seat, Michael slammed the door shut and shook his head. Though Melanie might think otherwise, he wasn’t angry with her. He knew she’d speed past him tonight; he’d expected it. If anything, he was angry with himself. Ashamed, because deep down, he wanted her to speed. He wanted to have a reason to pull her over, just so he could see her again.
And that didn’t sit well with him.
He looked at the Volvo in front of him and then at his radar gun. Eighty-seven. If she kept this up, he’d be forced to arrest her.
If she didn’t kill herself first.
These were dangerous games they played, and it needed to end. Not only was he putting his career in jeopardy, but her life was in danger. He was a police officer, for God’s sake. He was supposed to serve and protect people, not encourage them to break the law.
Blowing out his breath, he rubbed his temples. Miss Melanie R. Darling had consumed his thoughts for three nights now. She had charmed her way into his heart the moment they met, with her nervous giggles and honest admissions.
On the first night, she had looked so panic-stricken, he wanted to pull her out of the car and assure her that he wouldn’t hurt her. If anything, he’d take care of her.
Then on the second night… Damn! She was the purest of contradictions, an innocent temptress. When she gave him that sweet smile, and then her fingers roamed over her—
Michael shifted his pants. The mere memory of her search for the misplaced license made his dick as hard as the nightstick jutting from the seat beside him.
No, he’d crossed the line that night. He should have never kissed her. Though she didn’t seem the type, she could report him for it, and he could lose his job. It had happened to others in his profession.
The stories were all the same. An officer pulls over a beautiful woman. The woman hints that she wants to get to know him better. He lets her off with a warning. However, when the officer tries to pursue the relationship, the woman reports him for it.
He looked up at the Volvo again. Could she be playing him?
As if Melanie heard his thoughts and took great offense to them, her car tore forward, the tires spitting dust and gravel as she pulled onto the road.
Suddenly, she slammed on her brakes and came to a screeching halt. Hurling something out her window, she sped off again.
What the hell was that?
Michael tried to make out the object lying in the middle lane of the interstate. If she’d been anyone else, he would’ve called in the bomb squad.
Getting out of his car, he shined his flashlight on the unidentified object. Even then, he didn’t recognize it as anything familiar. Was it an animal? He saw a lot of red. He tried to imagine Melanie throwing some poor creature out her car window, then shook off the thought. She was too nice for that.
He approached the bundle cautiously, noted that it wasn’t beeping. That was a good sign.
When he was only a few feet away, the scent filling the air told him what it was. It smelled like her.
Roses?
He leaned over and picked up the bouquet. Why would she throw roses away?
Making his way back to the cruiser, he thought of many reasons why she might have a bouquet of roses, but his mind kept coming back to one. They m
ust have been from a man. He frowned, knowing he had no right to be jealous, but he was.
He got in his vehicle and turned on the interior light eager to examine the arrangement. It was a simple really. Six roses, the stems cut short, tied together by a wide, black velvet ribbon. The roses were unusual in color, the outer side of the petals an indigo blue, the inner sides a deep red. He’d never seen anything like it. Attached to the ribbon was a thin silver chain, and at the end of the chain, a small blue card. He lifted it up to read the message written in silver ink.
I picked these colors because, together, they remind me of you. I hope to see them flashing in my mirrors again soon… Meli
He turned the card over. On the back, in small print at the bottom, read Darling Bouquets by Melanie.
Fuck! He was a total ass. The flowers were for him.
He wasn’t surprised that she owned a flower shop, but something nagged at him. He read the business name again. Where had he heard it before? Maybe Janine had mentioned it to him?
Michael pulled out his cell phone and dialed his little sister’s house. He hated calling her so late, but he had to know.
She answered the line with a sleepy, “Hello?”
“Hi, sis. Sorry to wake you, but I have a quick question. Have you ever heard of Darling Bouquets by Melanie?”
She yawned. “Duh. I only read you the article last weekend. Remember? Out of one of the bridal magazines?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Actually he didn’t. His sister had been planning her wedding for the last six months, often forcing him to endure long hours of ‘wedding planning fun’ while she bounced around like the neurotic bride she swore she wasn’t. Whenever she began reading from one of the twenty bridal magazine subscriptions she had, he tended to zone out.
“Why do you ask?” she mumbled.
He read the bouquet’s message again. “I just gave Miss Darling a speeding ticket. Well, two, if you count last night.”
“You what?” Janine shrieked.
He pulled the phone away and rubbed his ear. His sister was wide-awake now.
“Michael Aaron Johnson, you tear up those tickets right now,” she demanded.
That was a surprise. His sister only used his full name when she was angry. “Do you know Miss Darling?”
“Everyone knows Melanie Rose Darling. She’s famous for her bouquets. I could only dream of affording one. Hey, maybe if you go to her house and take back the tickets, she will give me a discount on a bridal bouquet.”
“You know I can’t do that,” he replied, smelling his roses.
“I know.” His sister sighed dramatically. “I just can’t believe you met her.”
“Why not?”
“I thought you said you remembered the article.”
Giving in, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, I don’t.”
“She is only like, the Picasso of the bridal flower world. An artistic genius! And she won’t do just anyone’s bouquet. You have to fill out a form, and she will either accept or deny your order. Sort of like an application. Rumor has it that she once rejected the ruler of some foreign country when he tried to place an order—even after he offered to pay twenty-thousand per bouquet for his daughter and her gazillion bridesmaids. But Miss Darling still said ‘no’.”
“Why would she do that?”
He couldn’t imagine anyone turning down that kind of money. Shit, she didn’t act like she had access to that kind of money. She was so down to earth.
“No one knows. She refuses all interviews, never allows her picture to be taken, or anything. Not many people have ever even seen her. She’s a recluse. Oh my God! What did she look like?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “She’s actually quite beautiful.”
“Oh Michael! I can’t believe you gave her a speeding ticket. What’s wrong with you?”
“Hey sis, I was only doing my job. What else do you know about her? And what’s so special about her flowers.”
“Well, I guess she has some special way she grows them. She is like a botanist turned florist. Supposedly, she has a huge greenhouse in her back yard where she grows her own flowers and creates hybrids that were thought to be impossible to combine. Then she takes the flowers and uses them to design her masterpieces. Each bouquet is unique and specially made just for the bride. Or the bride and her wedding party, if one can afford all that. Did you get her address?”
Matter of fact, he did. “Janine, hon, go back to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Wait! What are—?”
Michael disconnected and turned the cell phone off. Melanie, or Meli, as he now liked to think of her, lived only a couple miles away. Perhaps he should drive by her house and make sure she made it home safely.
Meli… what a lovely nickname for a lovely woman.
*****
Michael drove slowly through the picture-perfect neighborhood filled with trees and stunning landscaping. The houses, which complimented the serene environment, were far enough apart to warrant some privacy, yet close enough not to feel isolated. He could see why Meli would live here.
As he turned onto her street, he was met with a peculiar sight. A group of teenage boys, maybe sixteen or seventeen years-old, sat around a car, scoping out one of the houses.
He pulled up behind the illegally parked vehicle, surprised to find that they happened to be across the street from Meli’s property. Even funnier, they were so busy looking through their binoculars, they didn’t notice the lights and markings on his patrol car.
One kid, not bothering to remove the eyepiece from his face, waved him on. Michael rolled down his window just in time to hear the kid holler, “Dude. Drive around us.”
Putting his vehicle in park, he stepped out of the cruiser and approached the boys. “Good evening, gentlemen. Aside from blocking the normal flow of traffic, aren’t you out way past your curfew?
The kids jumped to their feet. Then the teen who had waved him on, the leader of the group he supposed, nodded. “Um, yes, sir. We were just leaving.” They all moved to get in their souped-up Escort.
“Hold on there. What were you doing?”
They froze and looked at each other.
Michael went up to the kid who had spoken and eyed the binoculars. He held out his hand. “Can I borrow those?”
The boy shrugged and handed them over as fear spread across his friends’ faces. Michael smiled and placed them to his eyes. He scanned the two-story house.
He spotted Meli quickly. She occupied the only lighted room. With the curtains open on the large kitchen windows, he could see her clearly. She wore a tiny pink apron and held a mixer in her hand, beating something in a bowl. Placing the appliance down on the counter, she turned and carried the bowl to another part of the room.
Michael blinked and focused again, zooming in on her. His mouth dropped. He couldn’t believe it!
Melanie’s bare bottom, magnified times ten, filled his lenses.
He focused out as she poured the mix into a pan, opened her oven, placed the dish inside, and closed the door. After setting the timer, she removed her apron and hung it on a hook.
Holy shit!
She was butt-ass naked.
Anger, jealousy and desire rushed through him all at once. Michael pulled the binoculars away from his eyes and stared down the teenagers.
“Um, we weren’t looking at her. We were bird watching. A project for biology class,” the outspoken kid stated.
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Go straight home. Now,” he ordered.
They didn’t need to be told twice. They jumped in their Escort and sped off. They left in such a hurry the kid forgot his binoculars.
Oh well.
Michael put them back to his eyes.
Why didn’t she draw the curtains? The whole friggin’ world could look in on her. What kind of a recluse was she?
Melanie leaned against the counter, drinking a glass of wine. She picked up a book and began reading it. He zoomed in on th
e title. How To Get The Man YOU Want And Deserve In Ten Easy Steps.
Laughing, he zoomed back out. She was too adorable.
He watched her place the book down and pick up the ticket he’d issued her earlier, rubbing her fingers gently over it as if it were something special to her. She smiled softly. Then her face turned sad. She bit her bottom lip and wiped at her cheeks.
His heart crumbled. Was she crying because of him?
Hell, he really was an asshole.
Pulling the binoculars away, he resisted the urge to run to her door and demand entrance. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her close, to stroke her hair and tell her that he hadn’t meant to be such a jerk earlier, that it wasn’t her, it was him.
Technically, he could go to her door and say he had received a complaint about her lack of modesty. That would be a valid excuse. But how would he explain his presence in the area?
Melanie lay the book down and left the kitchen, turning off the light on her way.
He decided to visit at her shop tomorrow. Since he didn’t begin his shift until evening, his day was free. He could just stop in for a minute, thank her for the flowers she dropped, and check on her.
Yeah, that would work.
Michael got in his vehicle and headed back out to the interstate, his mind lingering on beautiful Meli in the buff. His imagination went into overdrive and added erotic details to his thoughts, some of which included him. His dick swelled and strained against the fabric of his pants.
Hell, it was going to be a longest shift of his career.
Chapter Four
It was already after dark when Michael strode into Darling Bouquets. In addition to his uniform, he held the bundle of roses he’d collected off the interstate the night before.
Having slept most of the day away, he didn’t get there as early as he’d planned. But it couldn’t be helped, not when he spent most of the morning after his shift tossing and turning, his body unable to rest because of the gorgeous woman with a compulsive speeding disorder who’d managed to consume his every thought.