Warning: Do not read at work unless you work in a freezer locker.

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The March sun soothed the back of my arms and shoulders like the warm, gentle touch of a lover. I crouched down and wiped the sweat from my brow. In the distance, I heard an approaching motorcycle, its engine roaring, gears shifting. As the sound neared, I gave the front tire of my Dodge Durango one last swipe with the Armorall rag. Finally finished with the exterior, I stood and shoved the rag down into the back pocket of my worn jeans. I examined my vehicle, pleased with its shine and walked over to dump the large bucket of soapy water. 

As the water trailed down the driveway, the deep grumbling of the motorcycle caused me to look up. My brother, Hank, steered his new chopper up the concrete drive and gave me his best shit eating grin. He killed the engine and sat looking at me, his hands resting on his long legs. This was the first I had seen of his new bike, but I didn’t allow my eyes to linger, knowing that doing so would be the equivalent of staring at an eclipse. Dangerous, yet tempting. 

“Hey Chan.” He greeted.  

“Hank.” I shook my head, knowing by his tone of voice that he wanted something. I moved to the driver’s door of my SUV and climbed inside, busying myself wiping down the dash. “What brings you around?” I watched my younger brother swing a leg over his bike to stand. 

“Nothing.” He replied nonchalantly as if he were trying to hide his real motive... “Can’t I just come see you?” His hands removed his black bowl of a helmet. 

“Not usually.” I leaned over to the left and wiped down my door. Hank and I were very close and usually very bad for one another. We knew how to push each others buttons and when we were together…we knew no limits. I had the scars and suffered numerous broken bones to prove it. I glanced at him and couldn’t help but smile. He knew it wouldn’t take much to get me interested. It never did. 

He set his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle and walked over to open the passenger door. Climbing in, I tossed him the rag and sat back as he cleaned the other side of the Durango. 

“Where’s Kelly?” I asked, referring to his new, young bride.  

“At some baby shower.” He breathed. 

He was bored. That explained his presence. Finished, he returned the rag and crawled from the truck. His golden brown hair reflected the sun and his green eyes squinted as he removed his shades to wipe his cheek. 

“So what are you doing the rest of the day?” He asked lightly, as if my answer didn’t really make or break his day. But I knew differently. Sighing, I stood on the cool concrete with my bare feet and locked up my truck. It was Sunday, the day before my work week began. And I usually spent it going over files from my office, preparing for the week. It was work I had to do and I knew I should tell him so, but as our similar eyes met, I knew I was in trouble. 

“What did you have in mind?” As the question floated from my mouth, my sensible side cringed. But damn it he was my brother and his mere presence alone started my adrenaline flow. Hank meant fun. Hank meant adventure. Hank meant throwing everything to the wind. And I loved that about him. Of course I also hated that about him too. Especially on days like today when I should be inside, tinkering around my house, winding down to get ready for Monday. 

He eased back on his shades. “I was thinking about taking the bike out for a ride.” He grinned again, and I saw his eyebrow raise in my direction. “Wanna come?” 

Damn you, Hank. 

 I placed my hands on my hips and stared past him to his bike. At once I felt the fire ignite in my belly as my eager pupils enlarged to take in his new machine. It was a wide tire softail style chopper, vivid black with electric blue and yellow ghost flames. I swallowed hard and approached, running my finger tips over the beautiful tank. Next to the tank and custom Jesse James fenders, the entire bike appeared to be chromed out and made from Harley Davidson parts. From the powerful Ultima El Bruto engine, to the transmission and wiring and switches.  

I nearly shuddered as I rested my hands on the lowered polished forward controls. “That’s a nice bike you got there.” I said, looking over to where he stood proudly.  

“Thanks. I thought you might like it.” He watched me as I licked my lips, already imagining the vibration of the loud engine between my legs. He took a step closer and pushed his hands down in his jeans pockets. “What do ya say, Chan?” He motioned with his head toward my open garage. “Wanna crank up that bike of yours?” 

My eyes traveled over to my garage, and my pulse quickened even more. Hank lifted his sunglasses, gave me a wink and walked inside, nearly disappearing into the shade. His voice called to me from the cooler room. “Yep, she’s just sitting here waiting.” 

My legs moved me closer and as I entered, I saw him caressing my bike, much like I had done his only moments before. The Harley Davidson FXSTD Softail Deuce was customized by my very own hands. I had invested close the fifty thousand dollars in the bike, loving every last inch of it. Like Hank’s, mine was chromed out and shining, contrasting beautifully with the candy red paint of the tank and fenders, brilliantly layed on over three layers of pearl. My gaze traveled hungrily from the Big Radius exhaust and Vance and Hines pipes to the Screaming Eagle Mikini engine. I felt a surge of energy just thinking about the 105 horse power. 

“I’ll get my boots.” I replied, unable to tear my eyes away. Hank smiled with victory. 

“Right on.” He walked to his bike and swung a leg over, his hands tugging on his helmet. I hurried inside my house, dug in the dresser drawer for cotton socks and grabbed my Oakleys off the kitchen counter. Balancing carefully, I pulled on my socks and hastily stepped into my black motorcycle boots. My body felt alive, almost electric with the thought of riding. I lived for speed and the feel of the open road. It was my addiction, my weakness. 

Not even bothering to give myself the once over, I pushed on my shades and headed back out to the garage. I straddled my bike in my worn, dirty jeans, boots, and black cotton sleeveless shirt. My brown hair was short but thick, tousled and careless. My entire body vibrated, including my small silver hoop earrings as I brought my baby to life. She roared and grumbled deeply, as I walked her out with my strong legs on either side. Hank did the same, and our bikes seeming to almost be talking to one another. I stopped at the edge of the garage and typed in my code, causing the door to come down behind me. Then, easing up off the brake, I flicked my wrist and awakened the engine, kicking up next to Hank. 

As we rode loudly down the street, I felt the March sun once again, this time accompanied by the pleasant breeze that blew against me as I gained speed. I smiled as the freedom seeped in and the power between my legs thundered beneath me. Hank rode at my side, his helmet reflecting the sun. I rode without one, taking advantage of the lack of a helmet law in Arizona. As educated as I was, I had always refused to wear one, loving the exposure, the tempting of fate.  

We rode on, due east, leaving my neighborhood far behind, heading toward the mountains that edged Phoenix. As we streaked on, my body relaxed, as if mind and machine were welding into one. We turned onto the express way, the one that would loop us around from the west valley to the east. We had no idea where we were headed, and we didn’t seem to care. Merging on to the highway, we quickly sped up and eased our way over to the far left lane. The wind blew hard against my face and chest, testing my strength. I clenched the bike harder and accelerated again, following Hank as he weaved in and out of traffic, leaving all the other vehicles behind. I rode like a demon, expertly leaning and accelerating, delicately stroking the rode. 

I pulled up next to Hank once again. We were immortal, sleek, and strong, just like the wind. Nothing could touch us as we rode on the devil’s wing. I grinned over at him, feeling so good I was nearly bursting with light from within. He smiled back and sped up. I pressed on too and glanced down at the speedometer. We were pushing eighty four.  

Crazy. Careless. Concurrent. 

It had been like this since we were kids. Following one another into the unknown, beyond the comfort zone, beyond any limit, imaginary or real. Climbing and jumping from trees had soon graduated to racing and jumping our bicycles, which then led to the racing of dirt bikes. Hank had even gone the professional route, which was how he currently supported himself. I, on the other hand, had stopped, there being no future for a female racer.  

But the love for speed still beat strong within me, like a ravenous beast that came out of its cave to feed every time it heard the engine of a bike. The deafening drone of the engine and the wind was so strong, I almost didn’t hear it. And when I did, I couldn’t make sense of it. Not until it was directly behind me, banging and demanding to come through the wall of the wind. 

I jerked as it penetrated not only my ears, but my conscious. The siren was angry, screaming at us from behind. Hank turned to look, his face as startled as mine. Turning on our signals, we slowed, and merged back over to the right hand lane. Cars around us flashed by, continuing on their journey east as we pulled off the pavement and turned up dust on the shoulder. I didn’t notice how fast my heart was beating until I switched off my engine, and then I was nearly overwhelmed. I licked my dry lips, trying to decide if it was all adrenaline, or maybe a little anxiety at what lay ahead. 

Before I found my answer, a powerful voice came at me from behind. 

“License, registration and proof of insurance.” There was no “please”, no friendliness in the tone.  Hank glanced at me and shook his head letting me know just how fucked we were. My hand found my back pocket. Something soft kissed my fingers. I pulled lightly, bringing the rag I had used to wipe down my Durango before my eyes. I had been in such a hurry; I had forgotten to take it out. 

“Step off your bikes, gentlemen.” The voice instructed, just as cold. I flinched, suddenly realizing just how dire my situation was. I crawled from my bike slowly, shoving the rag down deep into my pocket. Hank came to stand next to me. His serious eyes met mine as he eased off his helmet and shades. Turning fully to face the voice, I fished out my wallet and pulled the information to hand it to the officer. My face flushed with red heat, as the “gentlemen” replayed in my head. Now that I was facing front, maybe the jerk would see my very obvious size c’s.  

To my surprise, the officer was nearly on top of me, stepping up quickly to take my information. 

My eyes focused first on the waist where a thick, black belt held a gun and pepper spray. And as the voice spoke again, my gaze flew upward, lingered on the full breasts and strong shoulders, and then traveled up to the chiseled face, partially shadowed by the wide brimmed hat. A lump in my throat formed and then burned as the officer raised her head to examine me. 

“Sorry, Miss…” Her steel blue eyes looked down again, focusing on my driver’s license. “Brogan.” She finished. I swallowed against the ball of fire as my eyes took in her strong, perfect features. 

Jesus. 

I found myself sucking in more air, as I stood straighter, trying to look my best next to her six foot frame. I heard Hank clear his throat beside me, as he handed her his information. The officer took it politely, studying the license and then Hank’s face. I watched the defined muscles in her forearm slink beneath her olive skin as she handled the information in her hands. Her fingers were long and strong, her hands sleek but powerful. The burning continued in my throat as the officer walked away, allowing my eyes an ample view of her long, firm legs and tight, full ass. 

I let out the breath of air I had apparently been holding. The officer opened the door to her cruiser and climbed inside. I then looked to Hank as I breathed out.  

“Holy shit.” I managed, standing directly next to him. 

“Yeah, no kidding. We are so fucked.” He kicked the ground in frustration. I shook my head, upset that he had missed my meaning. 

“No, I mean her.” I said, looking off to the DPS cruiser which sat several yards from where we stood with its lights blinking but silent. 

“What?” 

“Her….the cop. She’s unbelievable.” I said softly, almost to myself, excitement coursing through my veins. The woman was God damned gorgeous. I had never seen anything like her. 

Hank crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze falling upon my face. “You’re serious?” 

“Hell yes I’m serious.” Couldn’t he see it? Did he not have any idea how a woman who looked like that could move me? And in the uniform to boot? Granted, I usually liked my women a little wild, like me. But there was something about this one. Something about her confidence, stoicism and control. I shuddered in thought. She could use those hand cuffs on me anytime. 

Hank stood looking at me with disbelief. The visions in my head continued, and I questioned him, looking for some sort of reassurance for what I was feeling. 

“You’re a man, Hank. You’re telling me you didn’t notice?” I nodded back toward the police cruiser. Was it possible that I was worse than a man? Maybe I was. My occupation, my sexuality, and my libido all entered my mind. Yes, I definitely was. 

He nodded after thinking for a moment. “Yeah, she’s hot. So what?” It seemed he couldn’t get past the seriousness of our current situation and I couldn’t seem to get past her. 

“So,… I don’t know what.” I confessed.  “I’m having a hard time just getting past her looks at the moment.” 

 He snickered and kicked the ground again. “I swear, sometimes I think that’s all you think about.” He looked over at me. “Sex.” 

My head turned on him quickly. Hank knew me better than anyone and I knew he was right. Next to speed and the need for that adrenaline rush, sex topped my list. But there was nothing wrong with that. After all, I had turned it to good use. As I stood trying to convince myself that I was ok, I heard movement from the cruiser.  

The officer closed her door, forcing my focus back to her. She walked up to us purposefully and confidently. Her khaki uniform moving against her, clinging to her full chest and long legs. 

God yes.  

I clenched my jaw as I watched her move. My heart thudded its approval so loud I could hear it over the rushing traffic. She came to a stop in front of me. A moment of silence ensued as she studied the thick metal clipboard in her hands.  As my pulse beat thick and heavy through my veins, my eyes took her in pleasurably. Every last inch. I noticed her dark hair, pinned up and away from her face. Her ears were on the smaller side, with two gold studs in each lobe. Her jaw was strong and her cheek bones high. Her statuesque nose led to her lips which were slightly pink and near perfect in size. I thought about tugging on them with my own, enjoying them engorge with pleasurable, darkened blood as my mouth caressed them. 

“Ms. Brogan? Ms. Chandler L. Brogan?” She questioned with her strong, deep voice. Her blue eyes raised to look into mine. Desperately, I searched for a hint of interest or attraction, or at the very least a note of familiarity. But I saw nothing. Only the stoic look of a beautiful, professional cop. 

“Ms. Brogan?” She questioned again, seemingly oblivious to my thoughts and curiosities. I stood very still, captivated in the way her mouth moved when she spoke. Captivated by everything about her. Regardless of her demeanor, my mind flew with possibilities, thus flooding my body with arousal. An elbow from Hank rudely stirred me from my trance. 

“Ye, uh yes?” My voice was rough like sand paper. 

Her eyes remained distant, and unreadable. She returned my license, before looking back down at the clipboard. “And, Mr. Brogan?”  

“Yes.” Hank replied, taking his license from her hand. The woman sighed before she spoke, letting us know the seriousness of what she was about to say. I focused on the tiny brass plate on her chest. It read, S. Monroe. 

Monroe. I began wondering what the S. stood for as she spoke. 

“I’m not going to mince words here. Both of you should be placed under arrest.”  

Suddenly, my brain pounded, the reality of what she said sinking in. “What?” I responded, panic lacing my voice. 

“You were speeding to an excess of twenty five miles an hour over the speed limit.” Her eyes held mine, unmoving and seemingly unfeeling. “That alone is grounds for arrest.”

My mind couldn’t fathom what was happening. How could she, this perfect creation of a woman be saying such things, be thinking such things? It wasn’t supposed to work like this. She was supposed to be swept away by my presence alone. I shook the thoughts away, suddenly angry at myself for not seeing the situation for what it was. For wallowing in the illusions my head had desired. What the hell was wrong with me? This wasn’t the woman of my dreams…this was a cop. And one who wanted to arrest me. 

“No way.” I shook my head, suddenly angry. “That’s not possible.” I was a professional, a good citizen who had never been in trouble with the law. Why the hell was she picking on me? Wasn’t there a violent offender out there somewhere who needed her attention? 

“What she means is…” Hank interrupted, wrapping an arm of restraint around my shoulders.  

But Officer Monroe had words of her own. “You have two previous tickets for speeding Ms. Brogan.” Her eyes were ice, causing me to shudder internally. “Both within the last fourteen months. Both on the bike.” 

My face flushed. She was right, but she was wrong. One of the tickets was for going seventy two in a sixty five. The cop had been an ass, determined to meet some sort of twisted ticket quota. Of course the other, had been a little more severe. But I had paid them both and shrugged them off.  

“One of those was for going seven miles over the speed limit.” I reported, my blood beginning to boil. “Hardly worth….” 

“My sister’s had a bad day.” Hank interrupted again. “She…” 

“And as for you, Mr. Brogan.” Officer Monroe cut in.  “You have one ticket for excess speed and another one for reckless driving.” Hank looked away at her words. 

She studied us in silence, before dropping her arms, bringing the clipboard to rest against her thigh. “I observed you both weaving through traffic, at excess speeds, with little regard to your lives or to those around you.”  

“You couldn’t possibly know that.” I spat defensively. She didn’t know me, didn’t know what regard I had for anything or anyone. 

Her icy gaze froze into me. “I know that you were speeding up to ninety miles an hour, weaving through cars on a highway. Doing it all without the protection of a helmet, or any other form of protective gear. That doesn’t sound like someone who values their life to me.” 

“You don’t know me.” I grumbled. 

“I know what I see.” Came the reply. 

“So do I.” I whispered deeply, holding her eyes. I could size her up in a second. I knew her type, knew it all too well. Women who couldn’t function without absolute control in their lives, which most of the time led them to try and control the lives of others around them. They couldn’t stand disorder, spontaneity or letting oneself go. And I was just about to tell her so when Hank stiffened beside me.  

“Please excuse her officer.” He tried, the fear in his voice not escaping me. 

The woman responded without looking away from me. “No, I don’t think I will.” Her face hardened and I no longer felt a burning in my throat. All that remained was a large, round rock, making it near impossible to swallow. I held my ground, my mouth dry, as she turned to walk briskly back to her car where she deposited her clipboard. 

“What the fuck are you doing!” Hank exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders. His eyes were wide with fear, his hands angry at my behavior. “She’s going to arrest us!” 

“I don’t know!” I shot back, my head hurting with all that was spinning around me. “What she said, got to me and I ….” But there was no time to explain.

“Place your hands behind your back, Ms. Brogan.” Officer Monroe belt out as she stormed back up to me. A pair of cuffs jingled from her hand. The hand I had looked at hungrily only moments before. 

“No, this is a mistake, she didn’t mean anything…” Hank tried, nervous and disbelieving.  

Officer Monroe held my gaze as her right hand yanked my arm up and around my back painfully causing me to turn. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to attorney…” She began rattling off my Miranda’s. Her hands were strong on my wrists, wrapping the cuffs down tights against them. Reality fuzzed and hazed around me and I nearly laughed as I realized, that only moments ago, I had been completely turned on at the thought of her handcuffing me. 

A hard jerk turned me and led me away from my pleading brother, my feet kicking up dirt as she tugged me along to her cruiser. Holding the back door to her vehicle open, she pushed on my shoulder.  

“Get in and be still.” My body tensed for a moment and then relented, plopping down in the back seat. My butt burned as the heat from the seat melted through my jeans. I remained silent as she closed the door, locking me inside the police car. My breathing came quick and shallow as I took in my surroundings. I was caged like an animal. A dangerous animal. Tears nipped at my throat but I fought them back, too proud to cry. My big mouth had gotten me into trouble, real trouble. I watched as Officer Monroe returned to Hank and then I let my eyes fall to the floor as the police radio reported on various situations. I knew I didn’t belong here, but I didn’t know how to get myself out of it either. 

I sat still as my mind fought for a way out. I decided I would have to apologize for my behavior. And if that didn’t work, I guess I would have to spend a few hours in jail. Christ, what would my colleagues say if they ever found out about this? What would my clients say? Hank was right, I was fucked. 

I glanced up as Officer Monroe returned, opening her door and sliding in. Her shoulder moved as she scribbled on the clipboard. I shifted a little, ignoring the pain in my arms, working up the nerve to speak.  

“Excuse me?” I tried, with a weak voice. I hated the way I sounded, hated myself for this situation. She continued writing.

 “Yeah?” She let out, concentrating on her task.

“I just wanted to apologize.” I swallowed with difficulty. “For my behavior.” 

She stopped writing and looked at me in the rear view mirror. “Do you really mean that, or are you just trying to get out of an arrest?” 

Again I felt anger burn through me. But I bit it back. Why was this woman getting to me so? “I mean it.” I whispered, sounding defeated. 

“You know, you’re lucky you got me.” She explained, holding my eyes in the mirror. “Anybody else would’ve hauled you two off right away. But I tried to be nice about it.” 

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I know.” I admitted, seeing things from her perspective.  

“You really should lose your motorcycle license for awhile before you get yourself  killed.” 

I shook my head, hating the sound of the words alone, not to mention the idea. And again I felt the sting of her judgment and the resentment at being told what to do. Regardless of where it stemmed from, I had a real problem with authority, I hated being controlled. But I shut my mouth and breathed deep, waiting for the right words to come. 

“It’s just that…I need to push the edge, just like…” I paused, searching. “Just like you need control.” Immediately, I regretted the words. She stiffened and looked away, staring out the windshield. I continued, desperate to explain. “You probably go crazy if you don’t have everything in your life under control.” I wasn’t’ trying to be a jerk, I was being sincere, trying to relate to her in a way that I knew how. I knew people. It was my job to know people. But Officer Monroe remained stiff, looking straight ahead. When she did move, it was to crawl out and open my door. 

Her strong hand wrapped around my bicep and lifted me up out of the car. I cringed as her fingers dug into me. She then turned me around quickly and I heard and felt the click release of the hand cuffs. At once I brought my hands around to the front to massage my wrists. She closed the door and rested her hand on her own open door, her face turned away from mine. 

“You’re free to go.” She said coldly. 

I froze, studying the side of her beautiful face. “I am?” 

“Thank your brother.” As she said the words, she turned and looked at me with her cool blue eyes. I inwardly gasped as I witnessed the pain in their depths. Had I done that? Was I the cause? 

“Look, I really am sorry…” 

“No need, Ms. Brogan.” She interrupted, sliding into her car. I stood watching as she cranked the engine and switched off her lights. The cruiser moved away from me and sped up as it merged back on to the highway, leaving me in silence, rubbing my wrists. I walked in a daze up to Hank who was sitting on his bike, looking like he had just weathered an awful storm. 

“What happened?” I asked, my eyes focused on her distancing rear fender. 

“She let us go.” He said simply. 

“I know but why?” 

Hank shrugged and pulled on his helmet. “I told her I raced bikes and that I was egging you on.” 

“You said it was your fault?” I asked. 

“Yeah, but she didn’t believe me.” 

My eyes returned to the road, where she had since disappeared from sight. “So why did she let us go?” 

“Beats me.” He started his engine and waved the tickets at me. “Maybe she thought you were hot too, and decided just to give us the tickets.” 

I rolled my eyes at him and straddled my bike. As I cranked the engine back to life, my mind continued to wonder. Who are you Officer Monroe, and why did you let me go? 

Several hours later I sat sitting alone in my quiet house, staring right through the files on my coffee table. Frustrated and unable to focus on the words, I tossed them aside and sat back against the sofa. Darkness settled in around me, the sun long gone. The clock on the mantle chimed, letting me know it was nearing eight o’ clock.  

Running my hand through my damp, clean hair I stood and headed to the fridge. I was freshly scrubbed and comfortable, all ready to settle down and get to work. But I just couldn’t seem to concentrate. As I tugged the fridge door open, I thought of her again. Her blue eyes shot through me, full of pain and something else…loneliness. I cracked open the bottle of Killians. I knew that look all to well. It was the same look I saw every time I stared into the mirror.  

The beer was cold and crisp but my mind was stirred and heated. I knew I wasn’t gong to be able to sit still and concentrate. I needed to do something to get her off my mind. Anything. I took another sip as I thought. At once the idea of speed entered my mind. Hopping on my bike and flying down the darkened road would surely do the trick. But now, with my most recent ticket, that was out of the question. My fingers fumbled with the bottle cap as my brain down shifted to my second most favorite, most preferred way to spend my time. Sex. 

That was it. Surely it would do the trick. It had been weeks since I had taken a lover. Yes, a woman was just what I needed. Suddenly buzzing with purpose and sure of my remedy, I headed into my bedroom where I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans. Looking at myself in the mirror, I ran my hands down my thighs, loving the way they fit. My heart began to beat faster as the thought of my escapade began to excite me. Next, a tight fitting Banana Republic t-shirt fell onto my shoulders and kissed my breasts and abdomen just right. The army green of the t-shirt matched my eyes and showed off some of the lightness in my brown hair. Then, seeing that it needed work, I moved into the bathroom, ran some gel through my tousled locks and brushed my teeth. After that, I exited the bathroom, yanked on my thick brown belt and stepped into my matching boots which I laced up tight. With one last look of approval and a quick spray of cologne, I was out the door and starting the engine to the Dodge Durango. 

I drove in silence, hoping and wishing that the pickings were good. It was Sunday night after all, not exactly the best time to find a one night stand. But there I was, determined and convinced. The outside of the bar was dark, with a few cars scattered along the parking lot. I parked my SUV and dug in the console for my cigarettes. I only smoked when I drank, and I had a feeling that I would be putting away more than a few that evening.  

Pushing the door open, my vision adjusted quickly, scanning the lesbian bar illuminated by a few neon beer signs and a couple of black lights. The two women sitting alone at the bar turned to look my way, and then dropped their heads to once again study their drinks. I approached the heavy set bartender with the well kept mullet. 

“How are ya?” She greeted, placing her hands on the bar. 

“Not bad.” I lied, digging in my pocket for cash. “Captain Coke.” I requested, laying a ten out in front of me. “Easy on the Coke.” She nodded and turned to busy herself making my drink. From behind, I heard the sorrowful cries of Melissa Etheridge sing out from the jukebox. She was feeling the pangs of love and I wondered who else was as I looked around, focusing on no one in particular. There were only a handful of women in the bar. Two where I stood, two sitting dangerously close at a table and one all alone in the back corner. 

“Three fifty.” The bartender declared, sliding the rum and coke my way. I grabbed a book of matches and turned to walk away.  

“Keep them coming.” I instructed, carrying my drink and cigarettes. I made myself comfortable in the far corner booth, liking the privacy and darkness which surrounded it. Behind me the lone woman sat in silence, hidden by the lack of light.  I thought about voicing a polite greeting, but changed my mind, not yet ready to have a mindless conversation with sex as the main motive. I sipped my rum, resisted the urge to twitch at its strength and lit my cigarette. As I blew out the comforting smoke, the bartender walked over and stopped at the table behind me. 

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked. I sucked on my cigarette, my eyes trained on the door, looking for prey, only half listening. 

“No. I’m ready to leave.” The voice was deep and smooth, and dangerously familiar. I nearly choked as I hurriedly exhaled and stiffened in my seat.  

No. It couldn’t be. Suddenly nervous, I set down my cigarette and debated turning to look. The bartender moved past me as my heart thumped in my chest. More movement came from behind as the woman took several steps to leave, coming to stand next to my table. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her arm, needing to know, dying to know. The woman straightened at the touch, but didn’t turn around. My eyes glided quickly over her long, strong body, and came to rest on the back of her dark head. 

“Officer Monroe?” I croaked out, my fingers burning from the warm, softness of her flesh. The woman turned then, fastening her light blue eyes on mine. I inhaled at the sight of her, my breath nearly stolen from my chest.  

“Ms. Brogan.” She responded coolly. I stammered, searching for words as my eyes took in her tight black tank top and torn jeans. Her arms were thick and toned with muscles, her breasts high and full. Her eyes glinted with lightning, framed by the midnight, shoulder length hair. 

“I…uh...” I stuttered as her gaze fell to her arm where my hand remained. Feeling awkward and shook up, I dropped my hand and offered her a seat. “Please, sit.” 

She stared at me for a moment, as if deliberating. “I should get home.”  

“No, please!” I half stood, desperate for her to stay. “Let me buy you a drink.” I waved the bartender over and eased my butt back down. My eyes lifted to hers once again, where the lightning had vanished, replaced by dark clouds. I was losing her, and fast. “Please. It’s the very least I can do.” I watched her, searching for that crack in her wall, needing to know I had reached her. Seeing nothing of the kind, I continued. “You were kind to Hank and me today.”  

The bartender approached and stood looking from me to her. “Bring her another one.” I requested, giving the heavy set woman a friendly smile.  

“No thanks.” Officer Monroe voiced politely, excusing the bartender. I was just about to protest again when the tall woman sat, making herself comfortable across from me. “I’ll stay but only if you tell me you didn’t drive your bike here tonight.” I laughed aloud at the joke and then silenced, as I realized that she was serious. 

“No, uh no. I drove my Durango.” I quickly explained. Her eyes drifted to her hands as I scanned my brain for something to say. The night was quickly changing on me. Not only had I found a woman of interest, I had found THE very woman I was trying to forget in the first place. What did this mean? What should I do? More importantly, what should I say? “Come here often?” Brilliant, asshole. That’s sure to knock her off her feet. I resisted the urge to whack myself in the forehead at my less than suave choice of words. 

Officer Monroe grinned slightly and raised her eyes. “No.” 

I returned the smile. “Me neither.” 

To my pleasant surprise, she continued to speak. “So where’s your brother?” A flick of mischief made itself known as her lips tilted to one side. My blood flashed with heat and tingled my skin as I watched her mouth move. She was incredible. And I was drowning in her presence.  

“He’s at home.” The words came out, but I didn’t voice them. My focus was solely on her as my mind whirled. She was here and that meant she was gay. And suddenly all the crazy thoughts and fantasies I had earlier in the day with her in mind were screaming to a halt in front of me. The recognition I had searched for in her eyes was now smack dab in front of me. Houston, we are go for launch. 

“With his wife.” I continued, smiling and glancing down at my drink. I stubbed out my cigarette, suddenly disinterested in smoking. “So what about you, do you have a wife?” I raised my eyes hungrily to watch her once again. Her face flashed with heat as she saw me looking at her, my attraction heavy on my gaze. 

“No, I don’t.” She replied softly, her eyes never leaving mine. I rimmed my glass with my finger as the sweet adrenaline I always craved flooded my insides.  

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I have a wife?” I teased, testing her interest. She grinned like a sly cat and I clenched my legs as the heat from her stare traveled to my center. 

“No.” She said, watching me intently. 

“Why not?” Suddenly my heart flip flopped. Maybe I was reading her wrong. Maybe she wasn’t interested. 

“Because I don’t need to.”  

I shook my head, confused. “You don’t?” 

“No, I don’t. I already know you’re not attached.” The grin returned. “You brother happened to mention it while he was desperately trying to explain your behavior.” My face burned with embarrassment. I dropped my head in my hand and reached for my drink which I gulped at. 

“He did, did he?” I tried to sound unaffected, but her gaze was intense and stirring my insides. 

“Yes.” 

Silence seeped in around us, making difficult for me to breathe. What else did she know? I squirmed a little in my seat, not used to being on the other side of the coin. I was the one who knew things about people, private things. Not the other way around. 

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, curious, turned on, and more than a little dizzy. 

She nodded. 

“Why did you let me go today?” My words caused her to lower her head and study her hands in thought.  

“Honestly?” she questioned. 

“Please.” I requested softly, watching her black bangs caress her forehead. 

“Because there was…” She looked at me and then lowered her eyes. 

“Because there was what?”  

“Because there was something about you.” 

My entire body pulsed. I sipped more of my drink, almost disbelieving that I had heard her correctly. When she raised her head to look at me again, the attraction in her eyes was undeniable. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t swallow. I just sat. And stared. Never before had a woman moved me so. I wanted her, wanted her to have me, wanted it all. She seemed to see what I felt in my eyes. I reached for my drink again and let it wet my mouth, enabling me to speak. 

“You want to get out of here?” My voice was tight and strained. Please God say yes. 

She swallowed and then licked her lips as I nearly died with desire across from her. When she nodded yes, I felt like melting, my body turning to mush. She stood up next to me, waiting, as I pried myself from my seat. My eyes traveled hungrily up and down her body as she walked ahead of me. My insides growled with starvation, my mouth salivating at the sight of her bare skin. The bartender voiced a good night somewhere in the foggy distance as we pushed out the door into the cool desert night. 

Once again I was alone and driving in silence. Only this time the frustration and the determination to forget were nowhere present. What beat inside me instead was a craving, a desire so strong it left me weak. My palms were sweaty as I made the turn onto my street. Her headlights shone on me from behind, tickling me with promise. I pulled in my drive and eased the Durango into the garage. She climbed from her black Chevy truck and slinked her way up to me. I smiled with nervousness as I pushed the button to lower my garage. 

“Come on in…” In an instant she was on me, stifling my words, shoving me up against the door. I gasped in surprise as she pinned me with her weight. Her mouth was a fraction from mine, her alluring scent teasing my nose.  

“Shhh.” Her finger instructed, lightly touching my lips. The garage door rested completely closed, leaving us alone with the dull glow of its overhead light. In front of me, blue glacier eyes stared into mine, fanning my fire. “I’m going to make you come.” She whispered, her lips teasing mine as she spoke. Her hands raised my arms up above my head. “I’m going to make you come over and over again until you beg me to stop.”  

I moaned slightly and started to speak but she stopped me, conquering my mouth with hers. I closed my eyes and felt my knees weaken as her hot mouth devoured me, sucking on my tongue, and then probing me with hers. Her body pressed up against me, her thigh grinding between my legs. I lost all control and felt my body melt and collapse. She groaned with pleasure and held me up with her hands and the pressure from her body.  

“Do you want it?” She asked as she tore her mouth from mine and bit at my ear. “Do you want me to make you come?” 

I trembled beneath her, the hot blood gushing to the fleshy spot between my legs. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening, my mind was unable to make sense of the woman at my neck, the cop who had tried to arrest me. But it was still her, it was still Officer Monroe. Only now she was off duty, and on me with the same confident, strong control she oozed while in the uniform. 

“Yes.” I managed, my voice quaking in response to her hot hungry tongue which licked at my ear. She grunted her pleasure and grinned at me as her right hand drifted down to my crotch.  

“Good.” She purred. Her fingers flew, unbuttoning my fly. The light to the garage door switched off, leaving me alone with her in the darkness. I felt her breath against my skin as she flattened her hand and slid it down the front of my underwear. I gasped and bit my lower lip as her fingertips found me wet and aching. 

“Yes.” She groaned against my neck. “I wanted to make you come the second I saw you.” She stroked my swollen clit as she spoke, driving me like a Ferrari, fast and fluid. 

Noises crept from me, short, throaty and raw. I clenched my eyes, feeling the white hot heat branch out into me, consuming me quickly. My hips began to buck against her hand as the hunger demanded to be fed. Her left arm pressed into my hands above my head, her right arm stroking me like a talented bow. My head slammed back with the pleasure, my mouth opening to take air from above. I heard her laugh in the darkness and felt the heat from her breath once again in my ear. Her hand stopped its sensual play, causing me to twitch with need. 

“Wait.” She demanded softly. “I want to see you. I want to watch your face as you come.”  

I swallowed and coughed, my throat dry and tight. Her hand pulled away from my arms, as her body moved from mine. The hand at my crotch remained as she slowly turned me to face the door. “Now.” She instructed, her right hand in my pants, her left running up and down my arm. “Take me inside.”  

With a weak hand, I felt for the doorknob and opened the door. Dim light from my living room lamp filtered out, softly showing us the way. I stepped slowly and as I did so, her fingers squeezed my flesh, causing me to rise up onto my toes. She stepped into me from behind her voice in my ear. “Keep going.” 

I took another step and felt my breath hitch in my throat as she squeezed again. I wanted to yank her hand out, to then turn and kiss her, to take back control. But as my knees shook, I knew I couldn’t. I was weak with pleasure, pounding with need. I reached back to brace my hands on her thighs as I took several more steps. Her left arm found my waist as I was just about to crumble with orgasm.  

“Not yet.” She said devishly. 

“I can’t.” I breathed, shaking, almost unable to stand. 

“Yes you can.” Her tongue swirled in my ear, awakening my arms and legs with goose bumps. “Which way is the bedroom?” 

I shuddered, leaned my head back against her and pointed to my left.  

“I promise, if you keep going, it’ll be worth your while.” She started stroking me again, sliding her fingers up and down the sides of my clit. Her teeth found my neck while her left arm rose up to pinch my nipple through my shirt.  

I cried out, arching my back with pleasure, wishing to God she would just take me now. Sensing my excitement, she stopped her hand slowly and lowered her hand from my breast to my hip. “Take me to the bedroom.” She said, her own voice sounding tight with arousal. Breathing deep and getting my bearings, I turned and walked with her slowly down the hallway. Her fingers played with me, rubbing me and teasing me while her breath spoke of pleasures to come in my ear. Somehow, someway, I managed to keep walking, until eventually I stood writhing against her in the doorway to my room. 

“Turn on the light.” Came the next soft yet seductive demand. I reached out and fumbled for the switch. The bedside lamp came on, the light piercing my eyes as it spread, kissing the king sized bed. Her hand eased up from my pants, and I clenched my legs in response. My head swirled, I felt dizzy with desire. From behind her hands steadied my shoulders, turning me around to face her. I did so carefully, as if I were intoxicated. Her blue eyes burned my skin, running over my face and neck. 

“I want you to watch now.” She said. “Watch me undress you.” I licked my lips as her fingers came up to my shirt. Slowly, she inched the t-shirt up, her fingertips lightly grazing my skin as she did so. My body tingled and shuddered once again as her touch seared into me just before the night air cooled it. I raised my arms, my eyes locked with hers as she pulled the shirt from me. We stood still then, our chests rising and falling with arousal. She dropped the shirt from her hand and then pulled on my waist band, yanking me closer. Her tongue lined my lips and then trailed to my neck as her hands forced down my jeans.  

I bit my lip as I felt her tongue trace the hungry skin of my chest as her hands freed me of my jeans. Her fingers came back up slowly then, caressing my thighs as she rose back up before me. The heat of her wants and desires was evident in the brush of color on her cheeks. Her eyes were focused, and dark and alive. She moved into me, her hand claiming the back of my head, pulling me to her mouth. She took me hard, ravenously plunging her tongue into me, then hungrily tugging on my lips. I groaned into her, my hands clinging to her back, knotting in her shirt. I felt the heat from her bare skin and instantly craved more. I flattened my hands and eased up her shirt. 

I heard a growl and then felt her pull away. Her hands wrapped around my forearms and pushed them from her. I stood staring, confused but too turned on to care. She grinned at me again, like a hunting, slinking panther. Her hands held me fast as she backed me up to the bed. When I felt the mattress touch the back of my legs, she let me go, raising her hands up to my bra. She leaned into me, allowing me to inhale her scent once again as she flicked her wrist and released the latch. She then stepped back and watched with pleasure in her eyes as she gently brought the straps forward and off of my arms. The bra fell to the floor. The air tickled my breasts, puckering my nipples, causing the pulse to return to my center. She looked at me slowly, her eyes sweeping up and down my body, lightly touching me in all the right places. I shuddered beneath her stare. 

“Take off your panties.” She voiced with heavy arousal. Hesitating only for a moment, I brought my hands up to my hips and slid my fingers under the double bands of my satin thong. “Slowly.” She added, causing me to look up at her. I continued as directed, gliding my panties down over the flare of my hips, below my pulsing center and down the sensitive thighs she had recently awakened with her touch. I stepped out of them carefully and stood before her completely nude, my body aching and humming with need. 

Instinctively, I reached out for her shirt, wanting to undress her, but she stopped me quickly with her strong hand. “Lay down.” Gently, she eased me back onto the mattress. She crawled atop me with confident grace, her mouth immediately claiming my neck with teeth and tongue. I groaned up into her as her hands came to life, pinching and squeezing first my nipples and then my breasts. Her firm thigh shoved into my engorged flesh as she devoured my skin, making her way down to my navel. She stopped at my hips, and looked up at me from all fours. 

“I’m going to make you come now.” She said, wrapping her hands under my legs and up around my hips, lifting me off the bed. I didn’t have time to respond before she raised me up to her mouth and fed like she was dying. My hands clenched the bed covers as my shoulders took all my weight. She held me tight to her mouth, her tongue swirling around my flesh before sliding into my hole, plunging in and out. My head thrashed from side to side, the pleasure too much, too intense. As I neared climax, her hands squeezed my buttocks possessively, holding me tighter. Her mouth suckled in all my flesh powerfully and then assaulted it all with her tongue. Tensing and tightening, writhing with the pleasure she was creating,  I screamed out as the orgasm came, shoving myself up into her over and over again. 

She moaned with delight as she took me, continuing to suckle my flesh vigorously before finally lowering me, when she then began to lick up my warm arousal. I grabbed her hair and knotted it in my hand, the after shocks too much to handle with her hungry tongue. My breath came sporadically as did my voice.  

“Stop…I…” I started and then swallowed. “That was…” 

“Shh.” She instructed rising up. “I’m not done.” She crawled forward and wiped her chin with a grin. “Turn over.” Confused and nearly spent I merely stared at her. 

“Huh?” 

“Turn over.” She said again, this time helping me. I rolled over onto to my stomach and began to wonder what was going on when I felt her. She slid her fingers into me carefully, gliding against my slick walls. A bolt of heated pleasure shot up through me, lifting my hips up off the bed. “Do you like that?” she asked. 

“Ye…yes.” I groaned. 

“Good.” She cooed, continuing to fuck me. “Now, relax.” She stopped her strokes as I rested my hips back onto the bed. I felt her fingers shift slightly and then in an instant a new pressure was up in me, in my ass. Tensing with the pleasure that I knew was soon to come, I moaned my delight as she began pumping me again, one finger in my ass and the rest in my slick hole, pressing against my g-spot. 

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered, lifting myself up to all fours, my hands clutching my bed covers. She drove into me from behind, killing me with pleasure, killing me with her fingers. The bed began to squeak as she fucked me, harder and faster. I began to moan and say things that made no sense. I closed my eyes tightly and then opened them wide as I felt her mouth and tongue on me, rimming my ass, licking where her finger disappeared up inside. The sensation sent me over and I came again, incredibly hard, bucking back against her hand, loving what she was doing to me. I pushed and rocked until my arms shook with exhaustion and my head spun with lack of blood flow. I collapsed down onto the bed and felt her move, kissing her way up my back. 

“Turn over.” The words drifted to me from a thick fog as I lay breathing heavily face down. 

“What?” I asked, my mouth pressed against the bed. 

“Turn over.” She said again, twisting her hand around inside me, causing me to come screaming back from my stupor. I jerked in reflex and then turned slowly over. She looked down on me with her hypnotic blue eyes and full pink lips. Her left hand traced my lips as her right hand found its way back inside of me, back into both holes. She began to pump me again as she spoke. “One more time.” 

I shook my head, thinking it impossible. “One more time.” She said again, softly demanding it of me. She took my hand and brought it to her mouth where she slowly began to suck. I took in a quick breath at the sensation and relaxed against her hand. She fucked me slowly, carefully, removing my finger from her mouth to lead it up her shirt, where her breast lay exposed, bound by no bra. I relished in its warmth and groaned as I pinched her nipple and saw her eyes flash with want and need. She then lowered herself, resting her mouth on my meaty flesh, her hand continuing to probe deep within. My back arched with the pleasure as the need to come took hold of me again. I tugged on her head, holding her to me as she fucked me with her mouth and with her fingers. The orgasm that was building was bigger than before, looming larger and larger. 

“Yes!” I cried out, my voice deep and venomous. “Fuck me!” She did so vigorously, moaning into my flesh as her hand worked its magic. The intense pleasure filled me up entirely and then broke all at once. I shouted, I grunted, I died. My body fought her, forcing itself upon her and then trying desperately to back away. She fought back, grabbing onto my hip, holding me to her, demanding that I take it all, every last bit. 

With no more strength left in me, I relented, dropping down into the bed as if I had no bones in my body. I lay still, panting, my mind swimming. She looked up at me then, using her tongue to lick the sweat off my abdomen. 

“Can you speak?” She asked, very delicately removing her fingers from inside me. I shook my head and tried to focus on her blurry face. 

“I…I” I croaked, my eyes drifting closed. She kissed me then, or maybe I dreamt it. I felt her lips touch mine oh so gently and then pull away, quickly disappearing along with her scent.

“I really do.” My client Bob Rogers said with conviction. “I really think she married me for my penis.” He turned to his wife of two years who sat on the opposite end of the couch. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and tell him he was correct. I was in an exceptionally cranky mood for a Monday and unwilling to sit through the dramatics so many of my clients brought in with them. 

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “Bob, come on now. Sherri didn’t marry you for your penis.” I glanced her way and she met my eyes with equal frustration. “Right Sherri?” 

“Right.” She finally voiced. Bob glanced her way quickly, unconvinced.  

“But that’s all she wants all the time. To fuck.” 

I cut him off quickly, before he could fill himself up with too much hot air. “And you don’t enjoy it?” He closed his mouth, stifled. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Then what are you saying?” God, only five more minutes left. Help me make it through without going off on Bob and his stupid complaints. Ninety percent of my clients came in with the opposite problem. They couldn’t get their wives interested in sex. Bob Rogers didn’t know just how lucky he was. 

“I’m saying that I feel a little used here.” The hot air was filling him up again as he continued. “I mean, it’s all the time. And it’s not like we’re having normal sex.” My eyes looked up, suddenly interested. Bob rubbed the back of his neck before finishing. “She insists that I take Viagra.”  

I raised an eyebrow her way. Bob didn’t have erectile dysfunction. “Why is that Sherri?” I knew the reason but I wanted to hear it from her. 

Sherri glanced at her husband before she spoke. “Because he goes longer.” 

Clever girl. I covered my grin with my hand, pretending to rub my chin. It was nice to hear from a woman with a healthy sex drive who wasn’t ashamed to take what she wanted. After sitting and listening to dozens of men who do the same, I was near giddy at listening to Sherri.  

My little alarm beeped, allowing me to show my smile. “That’s it for today guys.” I stood, thankful for the end of the session. 

“But what about me?” Bob asked, whining.  

Stop complaining you ungrateful prick. Your wife is beautiful and loves to screw your brains out. I shrugged. “If it bothers you so much, don’t have sex with her. Tell her no.” I knew he wouldn’t. Not unless he was secretly queer or into farm animals. No man could turn down a woman like Sherri. No, Bob just liked to complain. He was a whiny man, not very masculine, into the high tech world of computers and video games. But according to Sherri, he was hung like a horse. So yeah, she probably did marry him for his penis. But so what? I had met loads of men who married their wives for their great racks. And today, I had little sympathy. 

Bob stood and his face reddened. He didn’t like my suggestion, it wasn’t good enough. 

“We’ll talk about it some more next week, ok?” I offered, escorting them to the door. They both walked out and I returned to my chair where I sat gratefully and continued to massage my temples. Memories from the night before had tortured me throughout the day, working me up. I had awakened alone that morning, much to my dismay, realizing that I didn’t even know her name. Officer Monroe sounded a little formal, given the circumstances I had been in with her the night before. 

I sat stewing in my chair, wishing she had at least left her number. While I knew the reasons why and had accepted the fact that I was just a one night stand, I couldn’t let it go at that. I had never been fucked like that before, ever. It wasn’t just the incredible way she had pleasured me, it was how she had done it. With complete control and confidence, coolly demanding what it was that she wanted. I had been dead on when I had said that she was a woman who valued control. Boy how right I was. 

Noise from my desk phone brought me back to reality. It was my secretary and she sounded flustered. “Dr. Brogan?” She questioned over the intercom. 

“Yes.”

“Your two o’clock is here.” 

“Thanks.” I sighed and began searching for the chart. It was one I hadn’t gotten to the night before. Thanks to my libido and wayward mind, I hadn’t assessed any of the new patient charts for the week. And now, it seemed, I was paying for my procrastination. “Shit.” The patient was on their way in any second and I didn’t know the first thing about him or her. A knock came from my door, causing me to look up. My secretary moved into the room and handed me the chart, along with all the personal information the patient had jus filled out. I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks.” I said again.  

“I’ll send her in.” She said with a knowing smile. I gripped the chart and casually flipped to the first page. My heart fell to my knees as my eyes took in the name. Sarah Monroe. Panic surged through me as my eyes continued to scan. Reason for consultation. Unable to achieve orgasm. Holy shit. Suddenly, everything that had happened the night before made sense. She wouldn’t let me touch her. Now I know why. 

As my blood pounded in my ears, I glanced up and met the steel blue eyes from the night before. She came to a halt in the doorway, a look of shock whitening her face. Her eyes searched mine desperately, her lips moving but no words coming. 

“Sarah?” I breathed out. I saw her jaw clench at the sound of her name. The shock was gone, quickly replaced by anger. She turned to walk away but I raced to the door, reaching for her arm. She tugged it away and I saw the hot tears burning in her eyes. “Wait!” I whispered, grabbing her arm again. “Please.” I pleaded softly. She stood very still, her chest rising and falling.

“I didn’t know.” She managed, sounding like she was about break. 

“I didn’t either.” I held up her chart. “I just now looked at it.” She turned then and burned a stare into me.  

“So you read it?” 

“Not all of it.” I eased up my grip. “Please, come in and sit down.” I felt her pain, felt it rock through me as she looked at me. “It’s ok.” She wavered slightly and then turned and walked slowly into the room. I pushed the door closed behind her and escorted her to the couch. She sat slowly, as if she were unsure. 

“The name on the door is Desert Mountain Professional Group.” She said, referring to the group of psychologists I worked with. “They never told me the name of the doctor I would be seeing.” 

I sat down and nodded, understanding how this could’ve happened. “I’m sorry.” I held up her file. “I was supposed to go over your chart last night, but as you know, other things came up.” I gave her a soft smile. 

“I don’t think this can work.” She replied, wringing her strong hands.  

“What can’t?” 

“This…you counseling me.” 

I thought for a moment. “Well that depends.” Her eyes met mine. “If we continue to see each other outside the office, then yes, you will need to see someone else.” My own cheeks burned at the possibility. “But if we don’t continue to see each other, then I can help you. Assuming of course, that you would want me to.” I studied her, searching for answers but found no sign, no hint of what she was thinking. “The way we left things last night, I assume you have no desire to keep seeing me on a personal level.” 

She stiffened but refused to look up at me. “What do you think is best?” She asked. Her confidence was gone, leaving me feeling helpless. I didn’t like seeing her like this, so weak, so unsure, so pained. It tugged at my heart and right then and there I knew I could never treat her as a patient. She moved me like no other. And I had to keep a professional distance with my patients, something I could never do with her. 

I rose from my chair and sat down next to her. My hands found hers, causing her to look at me. “I can’t treat you.” I said simply. She nodded, sorrow filling her blue eyes.  

“Then I should go.” She said, trying to stand. 

“No.” I replied, holding to her, forcing her to remain seated. “I’m not finished.” I softened my grip then and stroked her palm. I felt her shudder and my voice became thick and husky. “I would like to help you with your problem.” 

“I thought you just said you couldn’t.” 

I shushed her lips with my fingertips. “Not here.” I explained. “I can’t help you here, as your doctor.” 

She looked confused and uncertain. “Then how?” 

“As your lover.” I brought her hand up to my lips and kissed it lightly. She shuddered again as her blue eyes flashed with desire. “Will you let me?” I questioned, my body flooding with the thought of her. 

She swallowed and licked her lips before she nodded. “Yes.” She whispered. I moved into her then and took her pink lips with my own, massaging and tugging, letting her know how I felt. She moaned against me softly, allowing me the control she so desperately needed to have. I pulled away gently and touched her cheek with a smile. 

“Then you need to make an appointment.” I teased, winning me a shy grin. She was so strong, yet so incredibly vulnerable. I felt honored that she was willing to let me in, to let me help her, to let me make love to her. 

“When?” she asked, relaxing and playing along. 

“Tonight. My place.” 

“Seven?” She questioned. 

“Yes.” I breathed, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate the rest of the day. She rose and turned to kiss me softly on the lips, before turning to walk to the door. 

“See you then.” She said as she grinned at me over her shoulder. 

“See you then.” I replied, head spinning and heart racing. This, I thought to myself, was going to take those adrenaline rushes to a whole new level. Hands down.

The End….To Be Continued…maybe, possibly.

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Copyright © April 2005 by Ronica Black.  All Rights Reserved

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