by Eve Langlais
It was only later, after a shower and another beer, that he realized he’d called out her name.
He was fucked.
* * *
She was royally screwed. Detective Steeves must have arrived while she was out at lunch and put crime scene investigation tape over the door to her office. How was she supposed to get back in and do any business? For that matter, what would people say if they saw the gaudy yellow tape? This was their private office, adjacent to the hangar that they used for repairs, and not the public office in the main airport, but still, the occasional client did make it back here. Host Airlines was doomed. She paced back and forth in front of the door, her teeth clenched in frustration. Finally she fished in her purse for her cellphone. Despite what she’d said to Tom last night—she’d chalk that up to sexual frustration—she’d had second thoughts about her promise. She hadn’t intended to speak with him at all today. Now it looked like she had no choice. She’d come straight to work early this morning and spent hours going over records. She still had no idea why they were suspects.
She bit her lip as she dialed his number, somehow surprised that he was still on her speed dial. She’d never taken his number off. The line rang and she felt her heart pick up its pace. She didn’t want to talk to him. But she needed him. Thinking over her heated dreams last night, she accepted that she might even need him in more than one way. She turned to pace down the front of the building entrance again, only to look up and see Tom leaning against the side wall, a smug look on his face as his phone rang clearly from his pocket.
Suddenly realizing she was still holding her cell, she pursed her lips and shut off the call, taking her time to look down at her purse as she put her cell away when she could have jammed it unseeing into its spot as she had a million times before.
She needed a minute to collect her thoughts.
To calm the urge to go to him, or to touch herself like she had the night before, trying to relieve some of the ache he’d left her with.
When she looked back up he stood only a foot or two away. Stealthy bastard.
“Problems?”
“Yes. Detective Steeves did this.” She gestured to the yellow crime scene tape. “I can’t even get in to get all the files I need to reschedule this week’s flights.”
“Is that all? I thought you might need me…for something else.” He gave her a lopsided smile, a single dimple showing on his left cheek.
Sexy, like the ones that matched on his other cheeks.
“Can you let me in? I gave them copies of all my files. Why would they lock me out?”
“I didn’t hear from you all morning.” He stepped closer, invading her private space. She wasn’t about to step back, not when he clearly thought he had the upper hand. First rule of business: never let them see you sweat.
“I was busy. As I assumed you would be, investigating and talking to Detective Steeves.”
He reached out, ran a finger down the exposed skin of her neck. “I like you hair all bound up like that. So business-woman-takes-charge.” He reached back and unclipped her chignon. “But this is better—business-woman-undone.”
“Tom—”
“Do we have a deal, Selene, or not?”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes.” There was nothing she could do. This mess had to be fixed. She hadn’t slept a wink last night, and couldn’t really say if it was because of the investigation or because of what she’d promised Tom in return for his help.
He reached up and pulled the tape off the doorframe. She watched until he had taken it all away, stuffing it into his jacket pocket.
“After you.” He waved her in.
She was tempted to slip inside and lock him out. It would serve him right. But then he wouldn’t explain to Detective Steeves why he’d let her in or that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, he deserved something for his smug attitude, if nothing else. She might owe him, but she didn’t have to like it.
She walked through the door, almost expecting him to slap her ass like a good little filly. He’d gone so far down the possessive he-man route that he reminded her of a cowboy—some sort of Texas Ranger—rather than a Michigan cop. It was confusing and annoying. She was definitely going to get him for this.
She sat at her desk. He seemed content to take a seat nearby on one of the cushy guest chairs. She could tell he was staring at her. Probably thinking up some sort of twisted sex game. The thought gave her an unexpected pull. Quickly she clamped the thought down and began to work out a way to get even. It might be petty, but she was feeling rather put out at this point. Tom was not the man she’d thought him to be. He’d become aggressive. Exciting. Possessive, demanding. Deliciously hot.
In the last ten months, she’d thought of him a hundred times and missed his sweetness until it had made her sick. Apparently, he’d taken the time apart and made a whole new bad cop image for himself. Sexy, and how fair was that? She’d suffered, even if it had been her fault that they’d broken up.
She shook her head. Mind on the game. She tapped away at her keyboard until Tom picked up one of the magazines on the coffee table in the guest area. Then she stood and headed for the bathroom. Tom glanced up for a moment and then looked back at the article he was apparently reading with interest. She took that moment to side-step into the kitchen.
Working quickly, she lifted her skirts and pulled her thong down, stepping out of it. In less than a minute she had the tiny panty carefully and decoratively positioned at eye-level in the cupboard, right in front of the coffee tin. Then, with a quick glance at the front office, she slipped into the bathroom.
She looked in the mirror and grinned. Nothing like giving a man a hard-on that he could do absolutely nothing about as revenge. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands. A moment later she returned to her desk and began to print out the schedules that would have to be adjusted for the next few days. Timing was everything.
“Tom, this is going to take a bit. Would you like to put on a pot of coffee for us?”
He pulled his eyes from the magazine and gave her one of his easy smiles. So familiar.
“Sure. Just a minute.”
He left the room. She hovered over her keyboard and waited, listening to the tiny sound of his actions in the cupboard. When he walked back, she took one quick glance. The lines of his cock were visible through the thick material of his jeans. His eyes cut to her, and she looked back down at her screen. For the next several minutes she pulled up the files and sent them to her printer and tried not to laugh out loud.
Finally he broke the silence. “You know, you are a very naughty woman, Selene.”
She glanced up at him. His eyes were dark, focused. He might be more than a bit annoyed at her little game. He spun her thong over his fingers and she squirmed in her seat.
“Are you finished over there?” he asked.
“Um, yes, if I can call these customers later today. And I need to speak with our mechanic, Tess. She might as well overhaul the engines on Dory—that’s our third plane—while they’re down…” She trailed off, suddenly aware she was babbling. She never babbled.
“You can make your calls later.”
She shivered at his tone, so dark and rich; it held all kinds of promises, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they all were.
“Right now,” he continued as he stood and walked over to the door, “we need to have a little talk.” He flicked the office door lock shut.
Her heart thumped and she rubbed her palms against the pale blue skirt of her sundress. If that didn’t sound the beginning of an interrogation, she didn’t know what did.
* * *
Tom watched Selene fidget at her desk. She was full of wicked little tricks. Leaving her tiny bit of a panty out for him, probably expecting he wouldn’t do anything in her office. He smiled to himself as he watched her twitch nervously in her seat. She had her tricks, but he had some of his own. He was the one who’d stapled the plastic police streamers across her door when she was at
lunch, forcing her hand to make her call him when he knew she’d probably gotten cold feet. The tape had been up for less than thirty minutes, and her private office wasn’t the face of Host Airlines or he would never have done it.
But the little trick had certainly opened the door for him.
He had actually called Detective Steeves, and they had an appointment for late in the afternoon. The possible charges against Selene’s airline were more serious that he had imagined, with a good bit of evidence to back them up. He still believed she was innocent, but he’d run every check to be sure, just as he was certain Steeves would do. And his snitch would be reporting to him anytime. But right now he was going to have to take care of Selene’s naughty behavior. The idea of another spanking wasn’t at all unappealing.
He walked to the larger picture window and pulled the vertical blinds closed. He could feel Selene’s eyes on his back. He turned back to look at her, struck again by her blonde hair, loose on her shoulders, and the line of soft skin that showed above the bodice of her blue dress.
“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” Selene asked.
“Not yet it won’t. Come here.”
It took her a moment, but she stood and pulled her shoulders back with her customary killer bombshell attitude. His cock sprang to life. He had no idea what he was going to do to punish her for her little joke, but he was definitely going to enjoy it. He put his hands in his pockets before he could lose control and adjusted his rapidly tightening crotch. What to do with a bad girl?
Chapter Four
Selene watched a smile spread across Tom’s face. She couldn’t quite kill the urge to giggle nervously, something that even a few days ago would have had her scoffing in disbelief. As if she could be that nervous over a man. The effort to regain control had her sucking in her next gulp of air. His wicked smile made her breath just a little harder to catch. What was he going to do next?
Why had she taunted him after he’d already proven to her that being naughty had consequences?
Of course it also had its rewards.
“Come here, Selene,” he repeated.
She walked closer, intending to march to the door and open the lock. He couldn’t hold her prisoner in her own office. Even if he wants to play bad cop again? Her libido had a mind of its own, always had, but kink in the office was probably not the best idea. She brushed past him, the minor touch sending electric shocks zinging through her. So much for propriety. She’d never been that good at it anyway.
When he caught her by the wrist and pulled her against him, she changed direction and went willingly, leaning into an embrace that stole the last of her oxygen. He kissed her, his hard lips demanding, his tongue probing. She opened for him, and he plundered her mouth, his taste dark and challenging. His arms circled her, and she felt the tug of his fingers in the material at the back of her sundress, heard the sigh of her zipper as he lowered it down the length of her spine.
“We can’t have any more bad behavior from you,” he whispered in her ear, causing a shiver to ripple down her body. “Have you got anything else up your sleeve?”
“I don’t have sleeves, officer.”
“That’s detective. I think it’s time for a strip search. Just to be sure.”
Thank god she’d given Tess the afternoon off. The inane thought wavered through her when he let her dress puddle past her hips and fall to the floor. He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes raking her body. Her nipples hardened immediately. His gaze dropped to her tight buds and he hesitated. She thought he might touch her, but instead he circled behind her and nudged her toward the wall.
He still wanted to play—good cop, bad cop.
“Assume the position.”
She leaned against the wall, her hands high and spread wide. He pushed his knee between her legs, spreading them apart. Her heart pounded and her cheeks burned. What was it about his actions, so pushy and demanding that drove her like this? If she got much more excited she was going to lose it.
He began to pat her down, rubbing his hands over her heated skin and thin lines of her bra. Without the material of her underwear—scanty as her thong had been—she felt completely exposed, vulnerable. She trembled in his hands as he lightly touched her breasts, each deep breath she took causing her pert nipples to rise like beacons. He stroked down her sides and ran his palms over her hips and down the outside of her legs. She moaned slightly, the muffled sound passing firmly clenched teeth, but reaching him anyway as he worked back up the inside of her thighs.
He slowed, taking his time to cup her ass and enjoy the feel of her cheeks in his hands. Finally he slipped his right hand around to her belly and slowly slid it down to run his fingers along the line where her thong normally sat.
She sucked in a breath, imagining his fingers probing her folds. But she blew the air out in a huff when he pulled away to unsnap her bra, letting it fall to the ground. He cupped her breasts, feeling every inch of her. She leaned into his touch, his warm, strong fingers. Part of her wanted to turn right then, turn and cling to him. Wrap her legs around his muscular hips. But she held back, some part of her needing to know how far he was going to take this. How far she wanted him to take it.
“What have we here?” He ran his hands back down her side to her hips to stroke over the edge of her wax job.
“Nothing dangerous.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He pushed past the tiny bit of curls and ran his fingertips along her wet pussy. She trembled, but resisted the urge to move. He stroked her, parting her lips, and slowly pushed into her, rubbing, searching until he found the spot that made her trembling turn to involuntary shudders. Her hips rocked forward into his gentle thrusts.
He stroked her clit, and fingered her sex until she was so close her heart was pounding, banging in her chest as she grew closer and closer to orgasm. She was going to come, right now, spread-eagled against the wall like a common criminal. All she could hear was the irregular beating of her heart—so loud, Tom must hear it as well. Fantastic.
Suddenly it struck her—the sound was real, it wasn’t her heart, although that was certainly racing. She could just about cry as she realized she wasn’t going to get the chance to come, not now. Someone was pounding on the door.
* * *
She might have left him last year, but she still trusted him. The realization wasn’t exactly welcome; it sent a strange longing through him. And she was as excited as he was, maybe even more so. Her legs trembled a little but her pussy was so wet when he touched her he could slide his fingers right in. If this was what she needed, no wonder he’d not been able to capture her heart. He’d treated her like a princess; she wanted to be treated like a bad girl. Maybe her little game with the handcuffs at the restaurant hadn’t just been about getting him to help her with his case. Maybe she’d been trying to tell him something. He thought back to all the times she’d toyed with his cuffs when they were together, and all the times he’d laughed and set them aside so he could take her in his arms and kiss her, make love to her gently in his bed.
He’d realized when he watched her temper tantrum outside the office over the tape on the door that he still wanted that. But if she needed a little encouragement occasionally to go from being a bad girl to a good girl, he was just the cop to give it to her.
Just a little more and he’d have her coming on his fingers, completely surrendering to him in her own office.
“Tom. Tom!” she whispered.
“Detective.”
“Detective,” she said with a little acid in her tone as she squirmed and pushed him aside. “There’s someone at the door.”
He shook his head, bemused as she dashed to grab her dress from the floor and slip from the room. The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut made him smile. He heard it now, the insistent thumping on the door, but he’d locked it, and she’d watched him do it. Who did she think was there? His cop mode pushed the sex drive slowly from his brain. Was she hiding from someone?
He winced as he straightened his pants. It was going to take a while for his hard-on to fade. He picked up a magazine from the side table and tucked it under his arm as he walked to the office entrance. He stood to one side of the door, one hand on his gun holster, and flipped the blind aside for an instant.
Detective Steeves. He recognized her from Selene’s description and the service picture he’d looked up online when he booked their appointment.
He considered ignoring her. Their appointment wasn’t for another two hours, and having her see him here might complicate things. But on the other hand, he could get a better read on her by surprising her. He needed to know how seriously she was pursuing them as suspects, or if she was using them to distract someone from her real suspects. Something wasn’t quite reading for him in the way things were going down. They weren’t just investigating Host Airlines; they were already talking charges.
He let go of his gun and held the magazine strategically over the still hard lines of his groin. He flicked the lock and opened the door. “Detective Steeves. Come in.”
She was shocked, but she hid it well. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed her surprise and the quick once over she gave him. She certainly didn’t hide her obvious speculation at his appearance in Selene’s locked office.
“Detective. I take it you’re looking into my case for more than just professional curiosity.”
“Just helping an old friend, if I can.”
“And where is this old friend?”
“She’s not here at the moment. She gave me a key so I could review her records without having to make another copy. Save a tree and all that,” he drawled.
To his surprise, she looked amused.
“Well, let me spare you the effort.” She thrust a folder she’d been holding toward him. “We’ve got a new lead—allegations of another shipper paying off the customs inspection team to switch papers on the incoming shipments, with another creep up in air control switching flight plans so it looks like different flights to Texas actually pass over Mexican soil.”