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Against the Law

By: Lucy1970Harker



It had been a long day when she saw the flashing lights behind her and heard the siren go off.

Doesn't it just fucking figure, she thought. What could have made this shitty day any worse? 

A speeding ticket. Of course.

She didn't think she'd been going all that fast. The meeting she'd been covering for the paper had gone late, though, and she was tired and wanted to get home to her empty bed — so it was definitely possible she'd leaned a little harder on the gas than she should have.

She pulled over on the dark road and the police car pulled in behind her. She wondered if she might know the cop. She'd never ask for special treatment, of course, but after covering news in a small town for nearly a decade, the odds are her name might ring a bell and she might get some leniency.

Or get an additional fine, depending on who it was.

She watched in her rear view mirror as the officer got out of the car and she did the unthinkable — she smiled. Of all the police officers, it would have to be him. 

Only her favorite police officer on the whole force, for crying out loud. It hadn't occurred to her he might be in the car since he'd told her he was working a different schedule. But boy, his tall muscular frame and dreamy blue eyes were a sight for her sore ones. Ticket pad in hand, or not.

He walked over to her passenger side window as the street was quiet but a main thoroughfare.

He leaned on the window frame with both hands.

"Hello, ma'am," he said, trying desperately to appear serious despite the smile dancing around his lips.

"Good evening, Sergeant," she said, smiling back. It was impossible not to despite her vow about ten minutes earlier that she'd never smile again.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, ma'am?" he said.

"Hm," she said.

"Because you've been just looking for an excuse to put me in handcuffs for a while?" she said.

Now he laughed out loud.

"I can't confirm that for the record, ma'am. But the speed limit here is 40 mph. You were going 50," he said.

Cars suddenly whizzed past her on her driver's side.

"Do me a favor — pull in here. You're impeding traffic," he said, directing her to a vacant parking lot for a business closed for the evening on her right.

"Ok," she said. Was he really going to give her a ticket? Shit. Of all people. She didn't think he'd be the one to bust her. And it was only 10 fucking miles over. 

She pulled into the lot and he followed, no sirens or lights this time, and pulled in next to her.

He got out of the car again. He was adorable any day but in his uniform, his waist heavily flanked by his symbols of authority — her heart thumped. He could give her a ticket — anytime.

"Please step out of the car, ma'am," he said.

Now what?

She could hear his police radio crackle and hiss with insignificant crimes that often took up his time in this wealthy, white-collar neighborhood. If he wanted to stall her bust, no pun intended, that was all right with her. She got it.

She opened the car door and got out, closing it behind her. She looked up at him, always surprised by how much he towered over her when she stood next to him. She wasn't short but he made her feel tiny.

She looked at him with a face bordering on adolescent pout.

"You're not really going to give me a speeding ticket, are you?" she said.

Still, the smile danced around his mouth, trying so hard to maintain his law enforcement seriousness.

She always broke him with a laugh. Their sense of humor was one of the many places they felt connected. 

"Listen, cop," she said, mocking the many local preppy teens and their attitude toward the cops she'd heard stories about for years.

She crossed her arms.

"My dad's a lawyer. You wait till he finds out you pulled me over. He'll have your job," she said.

He laughed out loud again.

"Is that so, princess?" he said.

She smiled.

"Turn around and put your hands on the hood of your truck," he said.

She blinked for a second.

"Huh?" she said.

"You heard me. The more you cooperate, the easier this will be for you," he said, once again failing to look entirely serious. She realized she'd never really seen him face to face without him being a few degrees into a smile when looking at her.

"Now turn around, and put your hands on the hood of your truck," he said.

Her heart, and her breathing level, increased their beats in simultaneous speeds.

She turned around and followed his instructions, hands on the hood. They were entirely alone in the parking lot. It seemed even the cars on the nearby road had stopped. 

It was as if the whole world had stopped, breathing along with her, waiting to see what would happen next. No sound was available to mask her thumping heart.

"Now, spread your legs," he said.

Her eyes fluttered momentarily.

She moved her legs apart. She was wearing jeans, a fitted white T-shirt, and sneakers. Not exactly lust material.

Instinctively, feeling the flare of lust ignite through her, her fingers tried to dig into something like muscled forearms, but only found the unyielding metal of her truck hood.

"Wider," he said, this time his moved his leg between hers and gently nudged her right leg out further, opening her legs wider.

"Is there anything I should know about before I search you — anything you might be hiding," he said softly, from behind her.

Her eyes again closed.

There were a lot of things she was hiding at the moment. And not well, either.

"No," she whispered.

She felt him move behind her, felt him by instinct down her body from behind her.

His hands started at her left ankle.

Both hands cupped her ankle, massaging it in the guise of a search, and moved up, fingers probing her calf, she could feel the heat, the pressure of his shoulders behind her legs.

Now to the knee, his thumbs pressing into the back of her knee, fingers firmly but gently moving over it, and she began to tremble. She could feel it all over.

The rough material of her jeans made his movements all the more sensual, rubbing against her soft skin, and still, his search moved higher. His hands moved over her knee, now to the thigh.

She fought and failed to control a gasp in her throat as his fingers dug into the millions of nerve endings he discovered in her inner thigh, where he seemed to be most focused. His thumbs rotated and teased her inner left thigh until she lifted one hand from the hood of the car to bite her knuckle.

"Hands back on the car," he whispered, but his voice sounded different. She realized she wasn't the only one feeling it. 

"I don't want to have to cuff you," he said. 

Cuff me, she thought. Cuff me, please.

His hands moved up, further, reaching the top of her inner thigh, pushing his thumbs just below her ass and then pulled away. 

Again, he started the same movements on her right ankle, massaging, teasing her leg with his fingers, finding that sensitive spot in inner knee, and easing up her inner thigh. His thumb circling, his grip strong. She couldn't breathe. 

"Are you sure you aren't hiding anything?" he asked.

She nodded. She was suddenly at a loss for words.

She felt him against her back now, hands on her hips, tightly holding them.

Then his hands slowly moved up to her belly — through her T-shirt, up her ribs, under her arms, over her shoulders, stopping to squeeze them.

"You're moving your legs back together again," he said, putting his hands next to hers on the hood of the car so his mouth was by her ear. His body was pressed against her back. 

"I told you to spread them. Now do it," he whispered.

She bit her lip and inched her feet further apart.

He moved back from her and moved his hands over hers, on the car, at her wrists, covering every inch with his fingers. His thumbs moved in a circle inside her elbows, stroking them, up to her forearms, digging into them harder.

She let out a small gasp involuntarily. The clash of so many sensations and emotions was beginning to overwhelm her brain activity. She was nervous and excited. She was embarrassed but eager.

She wanted desperately to run, while at the same time wanting him to throw her on the hood of the truck and screw her senseless just as badly.

His fingers reached her shoulders again, his fingers simulating an actual search poorly by then. 

"I can't help but feel like I'm still missing something," he whispered.

With that, his hands inched their way down from her shoulders and slowly, slowly, ran his hands over her chest, holding her breasts in his hands, moving his hands over them in gentle circles.

Her nipples, already the first to respond when she was turned on, were already over-sensitive, after his hands all over her. With his hands moving over them — they were so nerve-charged under his touch — impossible to hide. Her eyes clenched shut in embarrassment and sensual agony.

Behind her, he bit his lip at feeling her pronounced nipples against his palms through her T-shirt. He was glad her back was to him so she couldn't see his face. 

Was there any way for him not to find them with his fingers? Any way to not feel their hardness, make it worse? It wasn't the best idea, but neither one of them were thinking what would come next. It was all about the means — screw the end. 

And so they both knew that his fingers would be drawn like magnets to those hardened nipples. 

"I knew you were hiding something," he said. 

"They weren't there before, Sergeant. I swear," she whispered.

Her hips had begun to move with his touch, moving back, urging him to press against her again.

He was initially stalling, because in doing so, he would be revealing some secrets of his own.

His fingers squeezed her nipples gently at first, tugging on them, and she sighed now, finally, impatiently reaching behind her to grab him by his heavy belt and pull him to her.

The hardness against her ass certainly wasn't his gun, and it wasn't helping her gather her thoughts at all.

She moved against him now, finally lifting her hands from the car, and reaching behind her to reach for his neck, pulling his mouth to her neck, and he moved them around to lean himself against the car, his hands moving up, under her shirt, her back to his front, moving and softly grinding together. 

He moved down to lift her up against him because he was so much taller than she was, and it was hard to reach her neck with his mouth, but he managed. She felt his hot breath on her neck, and his hands found her naked nipples, working them harder, squeezing them over and over.

He could feel her heart, feel her sighs coming faster, turning more into "Oh....yeahs" than sighs.

He knew where this was headed.

She did too and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She reached orgasm through her nipples faster than any other way and that was under normal circumstances. This...this was extraordinary to say the least.

Still embarrassed, she tried to pull his hands away for a feeble moment. 

"No, I...I can't. I...you don't understand. I can't do this in front of you," she whispered.

He turned her face to look up at his, over her shoulder. 

Oh God, she thought. Not the blue eyes that I want to lose myself in, to swim away in, naked and never come back. But there they were. Those blue eyes.

"Yes you can," he whispered into her mouth. 

"And you will. You have to do what I tell you? Remember?" and his blue eyes held that hint of smile, as delicious as honey.

She knew she was done for. She closed her eyes, and felt him lift her against his body again, their hips back to front, feeling him hard against her, and his mouth in her neck, whispering to her, urging her on, and on again, until she finally felt her aching nipples teased and tugged for the last time she could stand it.

As she came shuddering against his body, his arms wrapped around her ribs to hold her up and to feel the shocks go through her. She reached behind her, wanting to feel him, looking for his...

"No," he said, warmly but firmly. 

And she was too tired to argue.

After a bit, he let her go and she was shyly finding it hard to meet his eyes. He smiled to himself and walked her to the driver's side door.

She stopped before getting in and looked him right in the eye.

"So," she said, smiling, "Do I get a ticket?"

He laughed softly.

"Not this time, ma'am — just a verbal warning," he said.

"But please be more aware of the speed limit, and slow down," he said.

She turned to get in the car, and turned back once more.

"You sure you don't want to threaten me with a ticket?" she said.

Her eyes, recovered from her momentary shyness, were hot. He could almost hear them crackle and burn. They reached through his, into his heart and took hold of his dick with both hands — which was coincidentally where her eyes were now focused.

"Because if you wanted to threaten me with a ticket, I've got all sorts of propositions to offer you to try to get out of it," she said, smiling at him wickedly.

God, was he tempted to write her a thousand tickets. But fuck. He knew couldn't.

He grabbed her by both elbows and pushed her against the passenger door of her car.

Her smile never left, her eyes locked with his — but she did let out a small, surprised and pleasurable gasp with his move.

He bent his shoulders to look directly into her eyes, his mouth almost touching hers.

"I was easy on you this time. Remember that," he whispered, using his full authoritative tone.

"Next time, you might not be so lucky," he said.

She watched his mouth form the words and realized the need to kiss him was almost a physical ache. She knew it would be in-fucking-credible.

Instead, she just smiled. She'd play his game. His way.

"All right, Sergeant," she said.

"Thank you," she said.

He backed away from her toward his car, their eyes still locked together. 

"Have a good evening, ma'am. And please, drive carefully," he said, unable to mask the smile that lit up his blue eyes like moonlight on the ocean.

She smiled back, gave him a salute, and with shaking hands she put her key in the ignition and just sat in her car for a few minutes, pondering if turning to a life of crime would be worth it.

+++++++++

A few days later, he heard his phone buzz with a text message. They'd proceeded as usual since the 'speeding incident,' talking about work related topics. It was easier that they didn't have to see each other — usually just talking by phone or by text. Looking into each others' eyes might have been hard, especially if other people were around.

He was certain she'd blush. And he couldn't be so certain he wouldn't have also. He was glad it seemed that their little moment hadn't changed their relationship or affected it permanently. He truly did like her and liked giving her information that she needed, and generally enjoyed talking to her. They had the same sense of humor and laughed a lot.

However, he couldn't help but have his mind steal back to that night. He wanted to forget it, but he couldn't. He was having trouble sleeping sometimes, thinking of her body shivering in his hands. She seemed to have managed quite easily though. 

At least he thought she had. Until the latest text. Telling him she'd heard of reported criminal activity that might take place that night. And an address.

That was all.

He didn't respond. He just looked at the phone for a while until his police radio cracked again. Then he put it out of his mind and didn't respond. After all, his shift didn't even end until the wee hours of the morning. What was he going to do? Drive all the way there at 2 a.m.?

But that's exactly what he did.

When he pulled up, the house was dark save one light somewhere upstairs. He told himself it was insane. But then he closed his eyes, as he'd done many times over the last week, and breathed in the scent of her neck. He heard her struggling sighs. He felt her body warm and tight against his, his arms holding her to him.

He shut the door of his police car. He had been in such a rush to drive there he hadn't even changed into his civilian clothes. Something told him if she was still awake, she wouldn't mind.

He quietly tapped the sliding glass door but the downstairs was dark. Still telling himself he was utterly insane, he slid the door open. Nothing like a cop breaking and entering, he thought. 

His belt and all its equipment clinked and clanked his arrival.

Somewhere upstairs, she sighed in her sleep, sensing it — waking up.

He walked up the stairs, slowly. His nervous energy was more intense than he felt during any bust he made on a regular basis. Why? He couldn't figure it out.

He still had time to bail on this, he told himself as he walked down the hall to the lit doorway. He still had time to bail. But his body wasn't listening.

As he got to the doorway, she stirred and opened her eyes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said. If there was a white flag, he was waving it. He gave up fighting.

The room was dark other than a thick candle on the dresser. It lit the pale blue walls faintly. 

She was sprawled on the bed in an ivory silk nightgown, clinging to her body down to her mid-thighs where it ended.

She lifted herself onto her elbows. Her nipples were outlined through the nightgown.

"Come on, officer," she said.

"I'm sure you've handled worse situations," she said.

"You shouldn't sleep with a candle lit," he said, defaulting to focusing on safety.

"You could start a fire," he said.

"I knew you were coming," she said, smiling at him.

"I never have to worry about being safe with you around to protect me," she said.

His fists clenched in his hands. He found himself counting to ten trying to control himself. It was simply too much. The sleepless nights. The aching in his heart. In his dick, remembering the other night. Thinking about all the possible outcomes. The darkness that hid him stroking himself hard and fast to take the edge off.

And now, she was there, hair a sleepy mess, naked under a layer of silk, on a bed. With that look in her eye.

Ready. So ready.

He counted to ten again.

She sat on the bed.

"Come here," she said.

He listened, but sat on the edge of the bed. She moved behind him. He felt her body against his back. Her hands on his shoulders.

"Is there anything you are hiding from me?" she said.

He smiled. Uh, yeah? He thought. But something told him she'd find it fast.

Her hands moved over his back, feeling it rippling with just enough muscle, borne of pain and sweat, of years of special police training.. She moved down his hard arms, pushing her chest against his back, reaching his waist — and finding it.

He grabbed her hands as they took hold of his gun.

"Wait," he said.

His skilled hands took it from her and carefully emptied it of ammunition. Then he handed it back to her. Her arms under his, holding his gun, stroking it. 

"Show me hold to hold it," she said.

He took her hands in his with the gun in them and she was pleased to feel his trembling in hers. Together they took the gun in her hands, raised his arms, and aimed it, his finger over hers on the trigger. Her heart thundered in her chest.

She let go of the gun and he laid it on the side table. Her hands continued to search him while her mouth, her hot tongue, moved across the back of his neck and he leaned into it, his hands reaching behind him to find her thighs under her night gown.

"I want the handcuffs" she whispered.

He laughed quietly, and reached for them, but stood up and turned her on her back on the bed.

She watched him intently as he kneeled over her, holding his handcuffs over her. 

"You know what? I should arrest you," he said.

"On what charge?" she whispered, smiling.

He pushed his hands down on her arms, and said, "distracting the hell out of a police officer."


Against the Law Ch. 02



Stephanie was working late and alone in the small office when she heard the sound.

The sound of the door opening.

"Fuck," she thought to herself, "I thought I locked that door."

She held her breath, listening. Was it a coworker? She was afraid to peek out of her office. She also had most of the lights down so it was possible if it was a trespasser, he wouldn't know she was there.

Then she heard the sound of newspapers being pushed off the shelves, and some sort of irrational mumbling.

Her heart started to race.

She tried to be quiet, holding her breath, as she reached quietly for the phone to call 911.

Unfortunately she hit speaker by accident, and had forgotten the volume on the office phone was way up. The dial tone was loud. Way loud.

"Well, look who's here," he said, standing in her office door. Carl Smith, local lunatic, paranoid nutcase, take your pick. The guy who felt everyone in town, including the local newspaper, was out to get him.

And she was stuck in this tiny office, alone with him.

Carl ripped the phone cord out of the wall. He hadn't shaved in days — that was obvious. He was a decent looking guy and before, he'd made some good points. She'd previously considered him somewhat reasonable despite warnings of possible personal safety. Now she wished she'd heeded them.

Recent events in his personal and public life had clearly pushed him over the edge and a recent police incident that had been on the newspaper's front page had made her, and it, an easy target for his unhinged rage. She'd finally blocked his number from her cell and was considering a restraining order — a little too late.

Stephanie backed away to the window of her office.

"Please, just leave. And we can let this go. I won't report you," she said.

He looked at her laptop on the desk.

"Is this what you use to put out this joke of a newspaper?" Carl said.

He picked it up and threw it against the wall, destroying it.

"There, that's my community service for the week," he said.

Stephanie had her cell phone in her back pocket, and she hoped he didn't notice it.

"Now you sit there like a good girl while I finish off my community service, and maybe, just maybe, I'll keep what I do to you to a minimum — at the very least, I'm going to teach you to shut that mouth of yours once and for all," he said, with a lunatic's smile. 

He picked up a coat stand and slammed into a desktop computer, smashing the screen.

In his distraction she quickly grabbed her cell phone and texted her police contact. Well, more than a police contact, but that was in the past. Since she couldn't talk, it was the easiest way to get help. And she also texted fast.

She pulled up his number.

"Need help," she got as far as that, and the lunatic turned around, continuing his tirade. She sank to the floor, dropping the phone in her lap.

"Our office. In trouble. Phone's out."

And that was it. All she could do was pray he was awake and had his phone on him. Even if he wasn't working he could make the call for her.

And she waited.

++++ Just a few blocks away, Jerry's cell phone buzzed. He'd just clocked out of his evening shift and was at the street light a block away from the police station. He took one look at his phone and hit the gas, making a u-turn back to the station. Meanwhile, he called into dispatch and gave the address.

"I'll meet you there," he said. He needed his gun first.

+++++

Back at the office, the destruction had given way to weeping. Clearly Carl was in a seriously psychological breakdown, and if she wasn't so terrified of him, Stephanie would have felt sorry for him.

He sat on the floor across from her.

"You don't understand. I've lost everything. My wife. My kids. That headline you ran was the last straw. How could I not blame you?" he said.

"Because I didn't do what you did. It wasn't my fault," Stephanie said.

"You're USING ME to sell newspapers!" Carl screamed in her face.

"And you used me when you needed newspapers. That's the way it works," she said, quietly.

"What am I saying? This isn't a newspaper anyway. This is a JOKE," he said, screaming again.

Suddenly the outside lot flared with police lights and sirens.

"YOU! How did you?" he said.

Carl pushed her backwards, and saw her cell phone on the ground and threw it at the wall.

"I'll kill you!" he said, and the look in his eyes told Stephanie he meant it. She futilely tried to push him off and he wrapped his hands around her neck, straddling her on the floor, his eyes filled with rage. She clawed and gasped for breath but it was no use. 

He was stronger than she was, and his anger fueled his power.

Just as the world began to turn black, Stephanie finally felt some relief as two police officers, yelling as they did so, yanked him off her.

++++

Not waiting for the elevator, Jerry took the stairs two at a time to get to the third floor as he heard the call come over his radio from upstairs for a paramedic. His heart stopped for a minute. He silently prayed she was all right.

Walking through the door of the office, he saw the damage, broken glass and furniture.

He saw the lunatic in handcuffs, still yelling about his persecution.

But he looked past all that to see Stephanie still sitting the floor, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes dry but glassy. She looked in shock.

He knelt in front of her. 

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

"It's me. It's Jerry," he said.

"Hey..," she said, quietly. 

"Are you all right?" he said.

"I think so," she said.

He stopped himself from stroking her hair. Their relationship was friendly professional, aside from one time of weakness a few months back. Still, it felt natural to want to comfort her. He snapped himself back into his job. His men were watching.

"What happened?" Jerry asked the cops holding the guy in handcuffs.

"He didn't break in. The door was open. We got here just in time — he was on top of her with his hands around her neck, trying to strangle her. And on top of that he destroyed probably thousands of dollars in equipment," the cop said.

"I think she's probably physically fine. Just a little scared, but we called the paramedic anyway," another cop said.

"Good. Did you read him his rights?" he said.

"Yes, sergeant," the cop said.

"Then do me a favor and get him the fuck out of here," Jerry said.

He got eye to eye with the man in handcuffs.

"I have to say I never thought you'd resort to attempted murder, but at least now you should finally be someone's else's problem," Jerry said.

Then he leaned in and whispered in Carl's ear, "And if you had hurt her any more, jail would have been a paradise compared to what you would have had to deal with from me." 

Carl smiled.

"More police corruption at its finest," Carl said.

"Get him out of here!" Jerry said.

"The paramedic is here, Jerry," the cop said.

"You guys take care of that nut case. I'll wait with her to make sure the paramedic takes care of her and get her home. You guys can come back later to do any further investigation. We'll be out of here in a few minutes. Report back to me later," he said. 

"Ok, Jerry. You sure?" the younger cop said.

"Yes, I just want him out of her sight," he said.

"Got it," the cop said. 

They shuffled Carl out of the office, still mumbling the whole time.

The paramedic was about finished checking her out.

"Nothing else hurts?" the medic said.

"My neck is a little sore," Stephanie said.

"No doubt. You'll probably have some outer bruising but it doesn't look like anything internal was bruised or injured. Go home, take some ibuprofen and get some sleep," the medic said.

"Ok," she whispered.

"Jerry, she can't drive herself home," he told the policeman.

"I'll drive her home," Jerry said.

++++

"Are you cold?" he asked her.

"A little," Stephanie said.

Jerry turned up the heat in his car as they cruised the highway toward her house.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Not really," Stephanie said.

"But thank you. You saved my life," she said, turning to look at him in the driver's seat.

"I didn't, really," Jerry said.

"But I so fucking wish I had been the one to pull that asshole off of you. Really," Jerry said. His jaw was set with anger.

She smiled a bit.

"Trust me, you are always my knight in shining armor. Even in my dreams," she said.

His set jaw relaxed into a smile. She loved when his blue eyes had a smile in them. They were so intensely blue they looked battery-operated sometimes.

"Can you do me a favor? If you mind, I understand," she said.

"Of course," Jerry said.

She couldn't look at him.

"Can you just hold my hand?" she asked. His heart melted a little, but he didn't show it.

With his left hand on the wheel, and without looking at her, he reached for her left hand with his right. Her hand was still cold, and he could feel her trembling.

"You need me to turn up the heat?" he asked.

"No," Stephanie said. "I think I'm just still jittery."

"Of course you are," he said.

They were almost to her house. He took the right turn down her long driveway. The house was dark.

She looked at it forebodingly.

He squeezed her hand and gently stroked her palm with his thumb.

"It's ok. I'll walk you in," he said.

Stephanie looked at him gratefully.

He got out of his driver's side and walked around to open her door, and walked her into the house. He put her on the couch as he got lights on, turned the heat up.

Jerry looked at the wood-burning stove.

"It should be ready for a fire," Stephanie said.

"All you have to do is light it. Do you mind?" she said.

"Stop. I don't mind anything, ok?" he said.

He got a text message on his phone.

"Carl's locked up for the night. He didn't make bail, naturally, so he probably will be locked up until court. You probably can't go back to your office for a few days as we close the investigation," he said.

"Right now, I never want to go back there again," she said.

With the fire lit, a cup of tea in her hand, he knelt in front of her. 

"How do you feel? Are you in pain?" Jerry asked.

"Just a little. That nut job isn't quite as strong as he thought he was," she said.

Jerry laughed.

"Maybe not against Lois Lane," he said.

"I don't feel much like Lois Lane tonight," Stephanie said. 

Suddenly, without warning and much to her embarrassment, she burst into tears.

Jerry took the cup from her hand, put it on the floor, and sat next to her on the couch.

"I don't know why I'm crying," she said. "I feel like such a wimp."

"Steph, you've been through a traumatic experience. Stop trying to force yourself to be strong and act like nothing phases you. Someone threatened and tried to strangle you tonight!" he said.

"I know," she said, quietly sobbing.

"It's really good to see you. Is that weird to say right now?" she said.

Jerry laughed.

"For you and me? No, it isn't weird," he said. 

"Come here," he said, and he took her in his arms, her face against his chest, and let her cry for a bit.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against him.

"You have to go, don't you?" she said.

"Nah. They have things wrapped up back there for tonight. And I was off shift anyway," Jerry said.

"I'm sorry I made you come back to work," she said.

"Stephanie!" he said, lifting her face to his again, this time able to touch her face, and wipe her tears with his thumb.

"There was nowhere I'd have rather been tonight with you in trouble like that. Nowhere," he said, his hands moving to hold her face in them gently.

Their eyes locked, and without either one consciously choosing to do it, they leaned in together at the same time, their lips met, and they were kissing.

They'd both tried to move past their last sexual explosion to the point of trying to avoid each other. But now, there was no way out.

She turned to him on the couch, still feeling an ache in her neck but Jerry's mouth was good on hers, so good, their mouths opened, her arms around his neck. The kiss so was surprisingly erotic given the circumstances — it shocked them both.

Maybe it was Stephanie's tension, the explosive evening, him coming to her rescue, him needing to help her. Both of their elevated mental and emotional states coming into play.

But that kiss exploded. Jerry's hands held her hips, hungry for her tongue, and her mouth opened to him, their tongues entwined, teasing, hot and wet.

Jerry suddenly realized what he was doing.

He pushed her back.

"No — no I can't. This is wrong. I'm here officially. You are a crime victim in a vulnerable state. I can't do this," he said, but making no move to get up.

Stephanie looked at him, both of them catching their breath.

She moved quickly to push him against the back of the couch, straddling his lap.

She searched those blue eyes, and found exactly what she was looking for. He looked at her over him, her hips moving, grinding her into his lap.

Stephanie hungrily leaned in for his mouth. Her utter wantonness overwhelmed him. Her tongue was wild and hungry and he met it, unable to get enough of it.

She pulled back again, still slowly grinding her hips. Any sense of sadness or fear in her eyes was gone. And maybe that was why she wanted to do this. 

She stunned him by pulling her shirt over her head, her black lace bra on the verge of exploding. Stephanie couldn't figure out what had taken over her erotic senses, but she knew one thing. She wanted Jerry. She always wanted Jerry. But tonight, it was more than ever. It was desperate and consuming.

His hands dug into her hips, looking at her body.

She held her hands under her chest, lifting herself to him.

She licked her lips, and whispered.

"I'm so vulnerable, officer," she whispered.

What the fuck, he thought. Why was his body responding to this? 

"I am just desperate and vulnerable. Won't you take advantage of me?" she whispered.

She moved her hands to his shoulders and teased him, luring him in with her breasts, taunting him with them in his face.

His fingers moved to her straps, slowly sliding them down her arms, letting her hardened nipples free for him to find with his fingers, with his mouth.

Stephanie's eyes fluttered as she ran her fingers through his hair, her grinding hips moving faster against his hard dick.

"That's it...take advantage of me. I want you to. You're in the position of power, and all I want to do ....is submit to it," she whispered, her voice catching as his mouth worked her nipple hard.

Stephanie's orgasm was about to explode. She knew this was probably a reaction to her shocking experience early that night — an escape, a healing, a something. But whatever it was, it had made her more turned on, more needing, wanting, dying to be fucked, than she could remember. And it had to be Jerry. That emotional connection. That needing to rescue her. That threat she overheard him making in Carl's ear. 

Holy shit, was she ready.

Stephanie pulled his shirt over his head and kissed him again, that wanton, sexual intensity again blew him away. She leaned into his mouth.

"Remember you wanted to be the one to save me today," she said, in between teasing his tongue.

"Well, now you can," she whispered.

"How's that," he whispered back, his eyes flashing fire.

"You can fuck tonight away, Jerry. You so can. Can't you?" she whispered.

A shot of desire ran though his body. What the fuck was she doing to him tonight?

"Unless you are still on official duty?" she whispered.

He pushed her up from the couch and they stood together, him towering over her, as always.

"Do you see a uniform?" he said, both of them working on the remaining clothing they each had on.

She realized he had backed her to the dining room table.

He lifted her onto it.

"Can you then? I need it so bad. I need you to do it so bad. I'm shaking I need it so bad," she whispered.

"I can do it, Steph. You just hold on," he whispered, lifting her knees with his hands, as she lay back on the table.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"It's got to be dirty," she whispered.

"I can do dirty," he said.

He lifted her to him.

"But you're so worried about taking advantage of me, aren't you?" she smiled.

"That was when I was on duty. Now, I'm just me. Can you handle me?" he whispered to her.

"Yes oh yes," she whispered into his mouth, and their kiss once more took them both away. 

He whispered into her mouth. 

"I'm going to fuck you now, and in two minutes you won't remember your name, let alone tonight, ok?" he said.

"Oh God," Stephanie said.

"Do it. Hurry," she said.

He lifted her hips to him, eased open her legs, and slid deep inside her. He gave her one minute to get her bearings, and his own too.

In the understood beats of silence, they both just focused on his hard dick inside her soaking wet pussy, how it felt, that relief, that deep, sensual itch that had just begun to be scratched.

And then Jerry fucked her. 

He showed no mercy. Hard. Fast, Over and over. He didn't stop when she screamed. He didn't stop when she dug her nails into the wood table, into his chest, drawing deep red marks. He didn't stop when she begged him to stop, or when she begged him to not stop.

He lost count after she came eleven times and by then he was ready. 

Her eyes were glazed over as she leaned up to him to kiss him again, laced her hand in his and sucked deep on his finger.

"Come for me," she whispered.

"Hurry, do it. I want it," she said. And as she lay back on the table, her body open to him, her nipples hard, pointed toward the ceiling, her back arched, he finished in slow, deep, hard strokes.

"You saved me tonight," she whispered.

"Don't," he said, and started to tremble. There was some mind fuck in his coming to her rescue he couldn't place, and didn't care to place at that moment. All he wanted was to feel.

"I love that," she said.

"Me too," Jerry struggled to say, harder, and harder, until finally he couldn't stand it anymore, and he came hard, shaking the table with its power.

He lifted her in his strong arms to him and carried her like a baby to the couch. The fire snapped in the stove.

They kissed softly, gently, teasing each other's tongues.

"Are you ok?" Jerry asked quietly. 

She pulled back and looked into those dreamy blue eyes.

"Are you kidding?" she laughed.

"I mean, from everything — tonight," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, her fingers running over his muscled back, the fire dancing in his eyes from the stove and from her.

"Tonight has disappeared other than me, and you," she said.

She paused, regarding him.

"What are you thinking about?" he said.

Her fingers stroked his face.

"I'm trying to decide if I like you fucking me better in uniform, or without it," she said.

He laughed out loud.

"And?" he said.

"Well the uniform is....," she drew in a shuddered breath.

"The uniform is hot...especially if you're frisking me in it," she said. And he smiled. That was a good memory for both of them.

"But I like that when you're not in it, you can be you. Just you. Do whatever you want. Be as bad as you want. As dirty. I love just you," Stephanie whispered.

Jerry kissed her then, softly. He knew he wasn't going anywhere tonight.

She took his hand and led him to the stairs to her bedroom.

"But really, being a reporter and all," Stephanie said, walking backwards to the stairs, smiling at him.

"I think I need to do some more research before concluding anything," she said.

He laughed. 

The end.



Against the Law Ch. 03



She took her time getting ready.

A long, hot shower, giving herself time to think about the evening to come. Choosing her outfit carefully, enjoying the feel of the silk stockings as she rolled them gently up her legs. 

She thought about him. They'd finally giving up fighting their connection after the incident at the office, after she'd been nearly assaulted or worse, and he'd saved her. Maybe it was the thought that life was too short. Maybe it was the heightened emotions of that moment that thrust them past denials and into bed that night. But really, it was just a matter of time. They both realized that by now.

They had been quietly dating below the radar for a few weeks and that was the only thing quiet about it. Their mental connection remained strong, but their physical connection was overwhelming. The first time they had given in to it was when they both were surprised it was each other when she got pulled over for speeding, and his erotic search of her after.

She looked in the mirror, smiling as she buttoned her fitted black dress, remembering his hands on her ankles, her thighs....everywhere. As she put on her red lipstick, she realized that was probably why his job as a police officer often stole into their sexual encounters. Either as a law enforcer or a hero, role playing with that heightened the intensity, lifted them up.

She certainly would been sexually attracted to him regardless of his job, and realized that was because he was first of all, hot, and second of all, because those aspects of his personality were intrinsic to who he was — his sense of duty, of right and wrong.

But as she took her perfume and rubbed it gently into her wrists, and her neck, and down the warmth of her cleavage, she had to admit to herself there was really nothing hotter than him in his uniform. He got her hot many ways. She particularly liked him in his casual t-shirt and baseball hat on backwards. 

But the uniform was beyond compare, and she challenged any woman to deny he was a sexual force to reckon with in his pressed blues, and his tall muscular frame, and his dreamy blue eyes.

And that's why she had something special planned for tonight. Something she really hadn't done yet. And she wanted to do it in the way she'd been fantasizing about it. Fixing her hair in a tousled bun on her head, she glanced at her face in the mirror, smoky eyes, red lips, checked her dress, felt for her garters to make sure they were secure.

She was ready. She looked every bit the repeat offender, the speeder, the troublemaker.

And she left the house, ready to break some laws.

+++++

He'd just finished getting dressed in his apartment — almost time to go.

She had given him specific instructions and he had learned not to ask questions by now. She'd never steered him wrong. Over the last few weeks she'd opened up so many erotic windows in his mind, heart and body. The sex had been incredible and ethereal, unlike anything he'd experienced before.

Half the time he couldn't figure out why what she said or they did pushed his buttons in that particular way. He was sure part of it was the honeymoon stage of a new relationship where they couldn't keep their hands of each other, but there was more to it.

There was a mental connection he couldn't place, where they could read each other wants without them being said. And her egging him on using his job as a cop just when he thought he couldn't get any more turned on while he was fucking her completely surprised him. Why did it turn him on? He couldn't figure it out, but it felt so good he really didn't care.

So as he looked in the mirror, dressed, pressed, polished, badge glimmering in the setting sun, he was happy to give her what she wanted tonight — the powerful, steely eyed man of the law. That was who he was, wasn't it? So it wasn't really a role. It was another part of him.

There was only one problem he could foresee — his outside looked intimidating enough. It was the inside that he had to try and keep serious, because she made him laugh so easily and often. It was one of the sexiest things about her. She could totally take him off guard with her sense of humor.

But tonight, as he stared at himself in the mirror, he focused. He'd do his absolute best to be the law enforcer of her dreams. He checked himself once more. His buttons fastened, his blues looking sharp. He thought he was pulling it off pretty well. 

One more thing — he'd almost forgotten. He reached for his gun and emptied it, leaving the ammunition behind — now just a prop in whatever adventure was in store for him.

"What do you want me to do with that?" he'd said earlier, when it was part of her instructions.

"You'll know," she said.

He trusted her. He grabbed his keys and headed out to bust some troublemakers.

++++++ The sun was setting as she turned onto her street. Her heart raced as she eyed her rear view mirror. A cop car pulled behind her, and it went from racing to jumping. It seemed lately her body reacted to police cars or sirens like Pavlov's dog — she'd get wet immediately. It was almost embarrassing.

Her heart sank as the cop car turned off onto a side street, until she saw there was another one behind it. Instinctively, she knew it was him. She smiled.

As she got closer to her house, the lights went on behind her, and her smile got bigger. Her breathing got faster, and she pulled up her long driveway with him on her tail.

She pulled up and stopped the car in the dark driveway.

He pulled up next to her. She rolled down her window.

He got out and had she been standing she might have dropped with weakness of the knees. She'd never seen him looking more official, more intimidating.

Or hotter. 

He went over to the window.

"You again?" he said.

"I'm sorry officer," she said, struggling like hell not to smile.

"Didn't I just let you off the hook for speeding a few months ago?" he said, playing the part perfectly.

"Yes, sir," she said, looking guilty.

"Get out of the car," he said, sounding convincingly angry.

She got out.

He also was thrown looking at her. She looked sexy as hell — her dress was buttoned just enough to show her cleavage amply — a little too much, but not for him. She was made up to look just suggestive enough. Just the kind of girl who'd be likely to do what she was about to do. Her hair was tousled like she just rolled out of bed — a bed she wasn't sleeping in.

He fought to control himself and stay on point.

"You just don't learn your lesson, do you?" he said.

"I know, it's just...can I explain?" she said.

"Go on. Let's hear the excuse," he said, arms folded, towering over her. She leaned her back against the car.

"Well, you see, officer, I was heading to see my boyfriend, and I get so excited to see him that it is so hard to drive under the speed limit," she said.

She was so convincingly campy that his mouth struggled for a bit to stay set and not laugh.

"Is that so?" he said.

"Yes, he drives me a little crazy, I guess, and he's waiting for me. I had a surprise for him tonight, you see," she said, twirling her hair in her finger.

"Sounds like a lucky guy. Too bad he'll have to wait a bit longer," he said.

"Please, officer, don't give me a ticket," she said, leaning to pretend to adjust her hem, giving him a full view of her black lace bra under her dress.

"I'll do anything," she said.

He reached for his gun now, pulling it out in an intimidating fashion.

"Did you just solicit a police officer?" he asked.

"Me, no! Of course, not. I just ...just... how much would the ticket be?" she said.

"It's the second time, ma'am. I have to be harsh. We're probably looking at over $500," he said, taking out his paperwork. 

"$500! But......but I don't HAVE that kind of money," she said.

He held his gun up in front of him again, aggressively.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you were so risky with your driving," he said.

He turned to process the ticket.

"Surely we can work SOMETHING out?" she said, fingering the top button of her dress.

He turned back, looking at her.

"Such as?" he said, trying not to smile.

"Well," she said, leaning casually down again to lift the hem of her skirt and adjust the top of her lace stocking bound in her garter belt.

He closed his eyes tightly for a minute.

"I don't know...there's got to be something I can do for you," she said.

He held his gun in his hand again tightly.

"Officer, that gun is so big and scary. Do you think you could put it away?" she said.

He chewed the inside of his lip intensely to drive the laugh away that rose to his lips, and turned away to hide it for a second.

He recovered and turned back.

He pointed the gun at her.

"I'm in charge here, and I'll be giving the orders. So maybe we can work something out that will cut you some slack and get you on your way to little boyfriend," he said.

She smiled.

"I would be SO grateful. SO grateful," she said dramatically.

"Ok. How about we start with that top button. Open it," he said, still pointing the gun at her.

"Which one? You mean this one?" she said, fingering the one at the bottom of the deep V that she'd already left open at the top her dress.

"Yes, that one," he said, firmly.

"But...but, I was thinking more along the lines of making you some brownies or something...," she said, acting shy.

He did laugh that time.

"Then you thought wrong. So do you want out of this ticket, or not? Open it," he said, holding the gun but not pointing it at her.

He leaned against his car now, waiting.

She slowly opened the button for him, revealing more of that lace bra he'd seen earlier.

"Is this what you want?" she said, looking him the eye. "It's a start. Now the next one," he said.

"Oh my," she said, feigning innocent shyness.

Again he tried not to laugh.

She opened the next button.

"Is that enough?" she asked.

"I'll tell you when it's enough," he said authoritatively, and she melted inside.

"It will be enough when you're finished with all of them," he said.

"Ok, but....," she started.

He stood up and said "What?" sharply.

"Well, nothing, you'll see, I guess," she said, twirling her hair a little again.

"Let's go. Finish," he said.

Slowly she opened her buttons, their eyes never leaving each other.

As they opened, one by one, her dress opened to reveal her black lace bra, lace panties, a violet lace garter belt, and thigh high lace-topped stockings.

Revealed, she leaned her back against her truck, hands flat against it, and waited, a hint of smile at her lips.

"Wow," he said, moving toward her.

"So is this your boyfriend's surprise?" he said.

"Part of it," she said.

"What's the other part?" he said.

"I can't tell you," she said, looking down.

He moved swiftly toward her, pressed against her with the gun between them.

"You'll tell me," he said.

She looked at him then, still with a faintly saucy look in her eye.

"I just can't," she said, urging him on.

"You better tell me, because we're no longer just talking about a speeding ticket," he said, threateningly.

"But...?" she said.

"Now, I could arrest your for trying to solicit or bribe a police officer," he said.

"But I didn't!" she said.

"Oh yeah?" he said, moving a little back from her.

"Let's say I take you to the police station right now," he said, and he moved the gun to her thigh, under the strap of her garter, moving it up and down.

"And I show them this outfit," he said.

Her eyes fluttered as the gun moved to her other thigh, and then up, between her legs, moving it back and forth against her pussy through her panties.

Her fingers dug into his arms.

"You think they'll believe you when you tell them you weren't trying to seduce me?" he whispered to her, moving the gun up her body now, over her bra, up to her face...to her mouth.

The tip of his gun was at her mouth now, and she reached out with her tongue and licked it.

"That's better," he said.

"Now tell me — what was the rest of the surprise?" he said.

"I was going to give him a blow job for the first time," she said, looking right into his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" he said.

He teased her mouth with the tip of the gun.

"Well then maybe you can practice on me first," he said.

The feeling of his gun at her mouth was so erotic. It was hard for her to not want to lick it, taste it — do naughty things with it.

"You do that, and we'll call it even, Little Miss Speeder," he said.

"Oh yeah?" she whispered.

"Oh yeah," he said.

She looked at the driveway.

"But I'll tear my stockings...," she said.

His hand moved behind her to grab her ass.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke the law," he said.

She smiled at him.

"Can I ask one thing?" she said.

"What's that?" he said.

"I think you need to at least kiss me first, officer. I have never given a guy a blow job who hasn't even kissed me yet," she said.

"That's fair," he said.

He dropped his gun on the ground, moving toward her, and he took her hips in his hands and easily lifted her up on the side of the truck so she was in the air, closer to his mouth.

She wrapped her legs around his hips as he leaned in to kiss her, their open mouths meeting, the kiss dirty and hot, a kiss between strangers and not strangers. He kissed her mouth hard, rough, messy, and left her breathless.

Then he pulled away with her mouth chasing him back.

"That's enough...," he said, but it was too late, her mouth caught his to suck him into the kiss again, hungry and hot, her fingers in his hair, her legs tightening around his hips. They were slipping out of their role playing and into that fire they couldn't fight — sensing it, he pushed her back.

"What do you think this is, a date?" he said, catching his breath.

She smiled at him as he lowered her back to the ground and picked up his gun.

"There, I kissed you. Now let's get this overwith. I can't be here all night. And your boyfriend is somewhere waiting," he said, coldly.

He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her face to him.

"Waiting for a surprise I'm getting first," he said.

Still eyes to eyes, he felt her hands at his belt, his pants, and moved to his gun.

"Watch it," he said.

"I just wanted to tell you that you don't need that anymore," she whispered.

"Because actually, you're pretty hot, for a cop," she said.

"Oh yeah?" he said.

Her hands found him now, hard, and ready, and she gently stroked his dick as she talked to him.

"Oh yeah," she said.

He pushed the dress off her shoulders.

"You're pretty hot yourself — for someone who doesn't learn her lesson," he said.

"You think?" she said, watching his eyes as she stroked him. She could see he was breathing faster.

"Oh yeah," he said.

"You might want to stand with your back against the car," she said.

"Why's that?" he said moving backwards.

"You'll see," she said.

"By the way," she said, looking up at him, smiling, "I'd appreciate any constructive criticism you can give me, because I REALLY want make sure it is PERFECT for my boyfriend, of course." 

He laughed out loud. He couldn't help it — but the laugh caught in his throat as she fell to her knees and swallowed his dick deep into her throat, and let it slowly slide back out.

"Jesus," he whispered, letting the gun fall from his hand to the ground.

Her fingers dug into the backs of his thighs as she sucked him, slowly, in and out of her mouth, over and over, teasing the tip of his dick with her tongue, making circles around it. Her tongue worked him under and over as she very gradually increased her speed.

And it was hard for her because he was so delicious to her, she was soaked from doing it, in his uniform, against his police car, her stockings shredding on the pavement, his fingers in her hair. 

He let go to loosen his collar and open the top buttons of his uniform shirt. It was suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe. His knees weakened and he rested his back against his car to hold him upright.

And still she was relentless, now with her fingers stroking him, her hands chasing her mouth to always have pressure around his aching dick, up and down, up and down, in and out, and in and out. He could hear her sighing and moaning between his legs.

Once again she could read his mind knowing just when he wanted her to go faster, faster.

"Oh God," he sighed over her, and it was such a fucking turn on to see him turned inside out like that. 

Now it was so fast, and he was close, she could feel it, taste it.

She stopped and looked up at him. 

"Oh God," he said, looking down at her. 

"Don't stop. Don't," he said.

"So this does mean I get off?" she said, smiling.

He laughed.

"You get off all right. Right after you finish this you'll get off big time," he said.

She smiled and once again her ravenous attack on his dick stopped his heart and his breathing.

Her mouth was wild, her tongue teasing, taunting, her fingers teasing his balls, as she worked him to the brink, saving her fastest speed to push him over that edge.

She felt him tense, felt his body against the car tighten, and then release, filling her with his delicious orgasm, and she eased him into it and out of it, softly sucking him, working him, until he was done.

The back of his hand was against his forehead as he just breathed for a minute.

"Holy fuck," he said.

She tried to stand but in her eagerness she'd scraped both knees and her legs were wobbly from being in that position for so long.

He lifted her easily, his arms cradling her, and sat her on top of the police car, standing between her legs.

"That bad?" she said, smiling.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said, laughing, as she opened another button on his uniform shirt.

"All I have to say is that boyfriend of yours is one lucky guy," he whispered to her.

She had worked his shirt open and found his nipple with her tongue.

"Oh God," he said.

The air was on fire all around them, between them — erotically, sexually charged. She couldn't see through the haze, just felt for his mouth with hers, with her tongue. His hands ran up her thighs, reached her panties and ripped them in half.

"I love these," he said, feeling her garters and stockings.

His fingers worked her — she was so wet and ready — quickly, deep and hard, and she came immediately, and again.

He kissed her hard, swallowing her orgasm.

He pulled away, whispering to her.

"So are we me and you again," he said.

"We are always me and you, baby," she said, teasing his mouth with hers.

"There's something inside you that likes to keep me in line in your uniform. There's something in me that loves to be naughty for you and something you love about it," she whispered back.

"You're right. I do. But I'm just wondering if I'm back to being the lucky boyfriend," he said.

She laughed. 

"Yes, you are," she said.

"Just making sure," he said.

He buckled his belt and lifted her off the car. He threw her over his shoulder, sore knees and all. 

"Before the lucky boyfriend gets lucky again," he said, heading into the house.

"Really romantic, officer. Put me down," she said, punching his back, laughing.

"I thought we clarified that I'm the one who gives orders around here," he said, smiling. 

And gave her ass a smack to make sure she got the message.

The End.



Against the Law Ch. 04



4: The Date

They'd been up all night.

The hot water pounded against his back as he lifted her against the wall in the shower, their wet mouths still hungry and hot, finding each other. Her fingers ran through his wet hair, tightening in it as their tongues teased and caught each other.

Holding her body to the wall with his, his hands found her ass, squeezed it, and her fingers moved to dig into his shoulders painfully as he gently opened her, teased her with his fingers, slowly, slowly sliding into her.

Her soft moan was barely audible over the pounding shower but his heart heard it, sliding in again, gently, so gently.

How was she wetter than the water? Still, she was, and getting wetter, and wetter as he slid two fingers inside her now, moving a little harder, and a little faster.

Her nails dug painful crescents in his shoulders as she came, and he welcomed it — loved it, even.

His mouth found her wet, hard nipple and sucked on it, again, gently, teasing it with his tongue, easing another orgasm out of her easily — after the marathon they'd kept up for the last few hours, her body was raw and ready to come. It was so, so easy.

She pushed back and slid her wet body down his, until she was on her knees, swallowing his wet, hard dick into her mouth, licking it and sucking on it, working it with her tongue. His back was against the wall to steady himself, and his hands were tight in her hair.

Her mouth was so relentless it never failed to take his breath away. 

"Oh god," he whispered. He pulled her to her feet.

"Stop," he whispered.

"No..," she protested.

He reached for the handles and turned the water off, and still soaked, he lifted her out of the shower and to the bed, hot, wet, both of them so ready, their skin tingling from the hot water and each other. 

His movements were seamless and swift as he moved between her legs on the bed and again, gently, slowly, slid inside her. Slow, and deep.

Her back arched and her scream cracked in her well worn-out throat, but he heard it all the same.

Gently, steady, even thrusts, in and out, he rocked between her legs, never hesitating, her pussy soaked, swollen and wet, tight around him.

She opened her brown eyes to meet his fantastically blue ones, and whispered, "harder."

He smiled.

"Are you sure...I don't want to hurt you," he said.

"Harder," she said, never losing his eyes.

He fucked her harder then, building speed, and she felt her giant orgasm building with every thrust, amazing her with it after swearing she was done, exhausted — sure there was nothing left he could get out of her.

"Like that?" he whispered.

"Yes, yes, just like that," she whispered back.

Increasing his force, his speed, harder, and harder, lifting them both higher, and higher. His dick was so hard, she was so wet, and though he had been sure they were both ready to just sleep — he realized now he just couldn't get enough.

"That's it," she whispered.

"Oh god...I ...," she couldn't speak.

"Shhhh," he said. "I know. Me too."

And with that, he knew he was almost there, hitting a perfect pace, speed, so hard now, instinctively he felt them both at the threshold, and it was .....3.....2....1....

He felt his mind go white with this time's explosion — it was almost too much, and she lifted to hold his body to hers, so they could ride it out together, shaking.

"Jesus," he whispered.

He lifted her to the pillows and pulled the covers back and over her.

"I should go," he whispered into her mouth.

"No — don't," she said.

"We will never sleep as long I stay here," he said.

"I will this time — I promise," she said.

"Ok, but you better find something unsexy and shapeless to sleep in, otherwise I DON'T promise," he said, smiling.

She laughed softly.

When they were both safely clothed and tucked under the covers, it was quiet other than heartbeats.

"Jerry...," she whispered.

"Yes?" he answered, turning to look into her eyes.

"I....," she drifted off..., their eyes locked, connected.

His fingers touched her face. The moment was deep and electric.

"I know, Steph. Me too," he said, and leaned in to kiss her goodnight.

Unfortunately, that led to both of them promptly breaking their promises.

+++++++++++++++

Jerry woke to see the sun was higher than it should have been. He looked at his watch. It was after 11. Shit.

He glanced around to see Stephanie sitting by the window, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he said.

She smiled. 

"I think you earned some sleep, don't you? Besides, you looked too cute sleeping to wake you up," she said.

"Did you sleep?" he asked.

"I did," Stephanie said, but there was something else there.

"Come here," he said. 

She put her coffee on the dresser and sat next to him on the bed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, just...I don't know," she said.

"Talk to me," Jerry said.

She couldn't resist those blue eyes.

"I'm just worried. This is amazing. Totally amazing," she said.

"And this is bad?" Jerry said, smiling.

"No, no. It isn't that. I just ...I want us to be more than just sex," she said.

He laughed. 

"Come on, you know that we are," he said.

"I know, but, I don't know, I feel like we need to spend some time doing something else...," she said.

"Like speeding?" he said, smiling.

She laughed.

"I'm serious!" she said.

"I know, I'm just teasing. Ok. I understand. Well it is sort of hard to go out around in public when we are trying to keep this quiet. And once we are alone...," Jerry said.

Stephanie smiled.

"Yes, I've noticed that trend," she said, laughing.

"I'll figure something out," he said, "don't worry."

+++++++++++++++

Stephanie looked at her phone, sad and a bit disappointed. 

It had been two days since Jerry had left her house and she hadn't heard from him. Had she scared him away?

She tried to concentrate on work, but working at the newspaper only served to keep him on her mind. Too many reminders.

She finally left the office for the day, and as she was walking to her car, her phone rang.

It was Jerry. Which was weird — he never called. They really only texted.

"Hello?" she said, nervous for some reason.

"Hi," he said, his voice full of that familiar warmth. She could just tell he was smiling.

"Hi. So let's see, you forgot my number? No, wait, the dog ate your cell phone," she said.

He laughed. She loved that sound.

"Oh, Stephanie. I thought you could use a day or two to yourself," Jerry said.

"I can always request such a thing if I need it," she said.

"You're right. Well, I'm sorry. I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too," she said, leaning against her car in the dark.

"So, are you busy Friday night?" he asked.

She smiled.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Sergeant?" Stephanie said.

"I am," Jerry said.

"Well, let me check my date book. I'm pretty sure I was planning on taking the hedgehog to the groomer's on Friday night," she said.

Jerry laughed again.

"Nope, that is next Friday, lucky for you," Stephanie said.

"Thank goodness," he said.

"I will pick you up at 7 p.m. Dress is casual. You're going out on my kind of a date," he said.

"What kind of date is that? Where are we going?" she said.

"You'll see," Jerry said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok, Mr. Mysterious," she said.

"That's Officer Mysterious to you, ma'am. And Steph...," he said.

"Yes?" she said.

"I really did miss you," he said.

She smiled quietly to herself.

"I missed you too, Jerry," she said.

Stephanie smiled the whole way home. She was getting in deep. And for once, she wasn't scared at all.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The iPod was blasting Eric Clapton's "Bad Love" as Stephanie finished getting ready. Listening to the words, she thought it was the appropriate vibe.

Dress casual presented a bit of a challenge for her for a date, especially when she had no idea what the plans were. 

She finally settled on a brown v-neck sweater, well-worn but well-fitting jeans, and brown boots. She pinned her hair up for a change. She also wore a brown tweed blazer. With her glasses, she thought she was pulling off the librarian/Lois Lane/casual look.

Stephanie finished up with her usual perfume oil at her wrists and other warm places, and she opened a beer as she waited — which wasn't long. 

She heard a knock on the glass door as she came back from the refrigerator, and she saw him standing there.

Oh, not that backwards baseball hat, she thought to herself. Behave, Stephanie, she told herself, you're the one that wanted to focus on other aspects of the relationship, weren't you?

She opened the door and Jerry came in, smiling at her, pulling the door closed behind him.

His hand was behind his back. 

"Whatcha got there?" she said.

He pulled his hand from behind him to offer a sunflower.

She felt warmth shoot through her, and she smiled.

"So sweet! How did you know these were my favorite?" she said.

"I saw them in your garden," Jerry said, smiling.

Stephanie took the flower, put down her beer and hugged him under his arms, with his around her over hers. He was too much taller to do it any other way, but she loved it.

He leaned down to kiss her.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"You too," she said, looking into his eyes, seeing something there.

"None of that!" she said, breaking off, laughing.

"Remember!" she said.

"Ok, ok," he said, taking her beer and having a sip of it.

"But you might want to pack a toothbrush, just in case," he said.

Stephanie winked at him.

"I already did," she said.

+++++++++++++++++++

When they were on their way, Stephanie asked him where they were going.

"You'll see," he said.

They headed north on the highway and he reached for her hand. She squeezed it back.

"So I was thinking...," she said.

"I always like when you think," he said, changing lanes.

Stephanie smiled. 

"In light of trying to focus on other activities this evening, I was thinking we should try to avoid the topic of your occupation," she said, blushing in the darkness.

Jerry laughed out loud.

"Oh yeah?" he said, glancing at her and noting the blushing.

"Shut up!" she said, letting go of his hand to punch him in the shoulder.

"Careful there, miss, you're assaulting a.....," he said, glancing at her, leaving the pause hanging, his eyes sparkling mischievously in the highway lights.

"Stop!" she said, laughing now.

"Ok, ok. I'll bite. Why are we avoiding this topic, exactly?" Jerry said.

"You know exactly why. Because for some reason you being a.....," she stopped, struggling with herself for a minute. He smiled at her again. 

"Yes...?" Jerry said.

"I mean...uh... that is to say, your occupation, can really get me going. And then it gets you going. And we're trying to not go there for a little while. Right?" she said.

He laughed again.

"Yes, ma'am. You're the boss tonight. Whatever you say," he said.

They were quiet for a little bit and she turned up the radio.

"What are you thinking about?" she said, looking at him.

"I'm trying to find a new temporary career path," he said.

Stephanie laughed.

"How about you tell me where we are going?" she said. 

They'd been in the car about 45 minutes.

Jerry took the next exit off the highway. It was a town Stephanie hadn't been before.

"My family has a lake house up here," he said. 

"We don't really ever use it in the fall and the town gets pretty empty after Labor Day. So I thought it might be a good town to...," he said.

"Go out anonymously?" she said, smiling at him.

Jerry looked over at her, smiling back.

"Exactly! You're quick, Lois Lane," he said.

She squeezed his hand.

"I mean, people know ME around here. But they don't know you. So I think I am safe to take you out for a few beers," he said.

Stephanie thought that sounded just fine.

They pulled into the driveway of a cozy looking house.

"Where's the lake?" Stephanie said.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. We put the lake in storage after the summer," Jerry said.

Stephanie laughed. 

"Wise ass!" she said.

"I'll show you. Come on," he said. 

He grabbed their bags and went in the house. He took her hand and led her to the back of the house, and onto a deck, where the backyard overlooked the dock in the lake.

The moon was just starting to rise over the quiet lake, and the view was breathtaking on the warm fall night.

"Wow! It's beautiful," she said.

He put his arms around her from behind.

"Not as beautiful as you are," he whispered.

"Watch it, Romeo!" she said, laughing.

She turned around.

"What???" Jerry said, looking innocent.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she said.

"So?" he said, losing his innocent look fast.

"SO, Sarg....," Stephanie said.

She caught herself, and he waved his finger at her in a scolding way.

"Oops! I mean, MISTER, let's go get those beers before you take advantage of me," she said.

He laughed.

"You're the boss!" Jerry said, taking her hand.

+++++++++++

They walked down the quiet street toward a Main Street type area. The night was perfect. She barely even needed the tweed jacket it was so mild out. 

They reached an old oyster bar at a corner and Jerry opened the door for her. The inside was all dark wood and typical New England tavern design. There were a handful of people at the bar and not many more at tables despite it being prime dinner time. He wasn't kidding the town was quiet after Labor Day.

But that suited Stephanie just fine.

"Jerry!" a graying man behind the bar said.

"What are you doing up here? Good to see you," he said.

Jerry shook the man's hand.

"What's up, Nick? How's everything? This is Stephanie," he said.

Stephanie shook the man's hand too.

"Nice to meet you, Stephanie. Stuck with this guy for the night, huh? Lucky you!" he said, laughing.

I'm feeling pretty lucky right now, she thought.

"We'll see," she said. "The night is still young." 

Both men laughed.

"Go sit anywhere you want. I'll send someone over," Nick said.

"Thanks, Nick," Jerry said.

They walked to a booth away from the few other diners. 

He took her jacket and hung it on a hook outside the booth, and did the same with hers.

"You're looking very professor-ish tonight," he said.

"Oh yes? Is that a good thing?" she smiled.

"I go for the sexy librarian type," Jerry answered.

"You don't say?" Stephanie said. And he laughed.

She loved that laugh.

They ordered some beers and oysters. Stephanie wasn't starving. She just wanted to linger over this moment — being out in public, out on a real date, the perfect date for her.

After they had eaten, they talked over a few more beers.

"Did you always know you wanted to be writer?" he asked.

"Not really," Stephanie said.

"But when you're really not good at anything else, it sort of happens," she said.

"Oh, stop it. You're good at a lot of things," he said.

"Yes, but if I did those things for work," she said, her eyes twinkling at him, "I'd probably get arrested."

He laughed. 

"Watch it!" he said.

"Sorry!" Stephanie said.

"Speaking of, or....not ....speaking of," she said.

"Yes," Jerry said, earnestly smiling at her, wondering how she was going to work around asking him what she wanted to ask.

"Did you always know you wanted to be a ......," she stopped.

He crossed his arms, enjoying watching her amusingly squirm a little.

"A what, Stephanie?" he said, smiling.

She blushed.

"A.....dry cleaner!" she said, and laughed.
His head went back in laughter.

"A dry cleaner? Perfect. Yes, Stephanie. I always knew I wanted to be a dry cleaner. My father was the best dry cleaner I've ever known. I come from a long line of dry cleaners," he said.

Stephanie still laughed.

"In fact," he said, his eyes holding hers intensely, "You might say that dry cleaning is in my blood."

Stephanie caught her breath for a minute.

"Stop," she said.

"What?" Jerry said, feigning innocence.

"You know what, MISTER," she said, smiling.

"Guilty! Finish your beer, ma'am," he said.

"This dry cleaner is ready to go."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They walked back to the house slowly, enjoying the lovely fall night. It was still warm.

When they got there, Stephanie said she wanted to go down to the dock and get a closer look at the lake.

They stood on the dock looking at the moon over the lake. 

"Want to go swimming?" he said.

"Now?" Stephanie said.

"It's warm out. The lake is probably still pretty warm. Come on. I'll protect you from sharks. We dry cleaners are good like that," he said.

Stephanie laughed. She did love to swim. Especially in lakes and oceans. 

"Ok!" she said. 

He pulled his shirt over his head, while she watched.

"Well?" he said. "It's now or never!"

She started to pull up her sweater.

"Don't watch me!" she said.

"You're being shy? I'm afraid that ship has sailed, my friend," Jerry said, laughing.

"Shut up! That's different," Stephanie said.

"All right, all right," he said, turning around to finish getting undressed.

She heard him splash into the water. 

"Do I still have to keep my eyes closed? I could drown out here?" he said, his voice echoing over the quiet lake.

"No, dramatic!" she said, walking to the edge of the dock in her bra and panties. 

"Is it cold?" she said.

"Not anymore," Jerry said, looking at her.

She smiled, and sat on the edge of the dock to put her feet in.

The water was a little chilly but nothing unbearable — luckily for her, since he then pulled her in with him.

She went under water with a splash, and came up.

"Rude!" she said, splashing him.

He laughed and moved toward her in the water.

"You know, swimming like this reminds me of my prom night. We came back here after and went swimming," he said.

"So you use this 'Let's go swimming' line a lot then," Stephanie said.

He laughed.

"If you count once in 1987 and you today as a lot, I guess you could say that," he said.

She laughed.	

"But we had beers and were making a lot of racket and the cops came," he said.

Stephanie laughed.

"Luckily for me, they knew my dad," he said.

She smiled at him.

"They had to get a lot of things dry cleaned, I guess," Jerry said, laughing.

"So I got off with a warning. But it was a funny night," he said.

"I bet," she said.

"But I told her of a legend I should probably warn you about as well," Jerry said, looking mockingly serious.

"Sharks?" she said.

"No sharks," he said

"However, legend has it there is a Great Lake Monster that only comes out at night," he said, moving toward her.

Stephanie backed away, laughing.

"Oh yeah? And what is this 'Great Lake Monster's' M.O.?" she said.

Jerry got his arms around her.

"He swims up when you aren't looking and steals the underwear off pretty girls," he said.

"Oh no! I see him now! Look out!" Jerry wrestled with her, fingers hooked in her panties under the water.

Laughing, Stephanie pushed him off, fighting.

"Get off, you maniac!" she said.

He suddenly stopped.

"Oh wait, I just realized you should be safe. He only does it to virgins," he said.

Stephanie laughed out loud.

"Fuck you!" she said.

Jerry stood in front of her, looking in her eyes.

"Promise?" he said.

She couldn't look away from him.

"You know it," she said, quietly.

He moved one hand behind her back, and with the other he took one finger over her bra, on the left side.

"Cross your heart?" he said, moving his finger over her hardened nipple. 

Stephanie felt weak.

"I feel like I haven't really kissed you in forever," he whispered.

"Me too," she whispered back, his fingers still working her left nipple through the wet material of the bra.




Against the Law Ch. 04



Her eyes fluttered. He loved when they did.

"Let's go inside," he said.

"Yes," she said, "hurry."

+++++++++++++++++++++

Once inside, Jerry wrapped her in a towel. She was shivering.

"Still cold?" he said.

"Yes," she whispered.

He sat on the bed, pulled her onto his lap, and rubbed the towel in her wet hair.

"Better?" he whispered.

His body next to hers was warm. 

"Much better," she said.

She ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

"Far from it," he said.

Her fingers rested at his neck, his hand moved to her hip, and their mouths met simultaneously, opened gently, and her fingers tightened in his hair.

The kiss was intense, consuming, as all of their kisses were. He turned her body and eased her onto the bed, onto her back. He reached behind her back and unhooked her damp bra, pulling it away. He pulled away from her mouth.

"I'll be right back," he whispered. 

Losing his heat made her shiver, but Jerry wasn't gone for long.

He returned with his hand behind his back, climbing back onto the bed.

She smiled.

"Whatcha got there?" Stephanie said.

He revealed handcuffs hanging from his finger.

"The dry cleaner? He just fucking retired," he said.

She laughed and tried to pull away.

But he was too quick, handcuffing her to the bed in seconds.

"We had our nice, romantic evening, didn't we?" Jerry whispered into her mouth.

"Now I'm the boss," he said.

She closed her eyes.

Jerry found her hardened nipple with his fingers.

And he worked it.

Slowly.

Stephanie's body writhed. Her hips lifted from the bed.

Still, he tugged, teased, rolled it between his fingers. Moving back and forth to the other nipple, just slowly working it.

"Stop," she whispered. It was pleasantly excruciating.

"You don't like it?" he whispered. His elbow on the bed, resting his head on his other hand, just watching her struggle.

"I like it...I love it," she whispered.

"But....more...," she said.

Her hips rose from the bed and back down again. Still, his fingers traced circles around her breast, smaller and smaller, ending in that aching nipple, squeezing, teasing. He knew how sensitive it was for her. Knew what he was doing.

"Jerry," she whispered, looking at him in desperation.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his fingers squeezing tighter, feeling her nipples getting unbelievably harder.

Her wrists chafing against the handcuffs, utterly powerless to this mind-fucking, body-aching tease.

She looked at his mouth. That was what she wanted.

"My mouth is literally watering," he said.

"Don't!" she said. Her eyes fluttered, rolled.

And it was. He wanted to taste those hard nipples against his tongue. He knew all it would take was one feel of his hot, wet mouth on her to make her come. And he was aching for it. He was teasing himself as much as her.

"Feel it," he said.

And he kissed her again, his fingers never leaving her nipples, her hips now writhing. And she could feel his mouth, so hot and wet on hers, could taste the anticipation, their tongues teasing each other, and when he pulled away, she moaned.

"Please," she begged.

"What, Stephanie, what do you want," he said.

"Your mouth. You know. Pleeeeasseee," she said, her eyes begging him more than her words.

"I'm so close," she said, her breath hitching.

He moved to sit over her, using both hands now to tease her nipples at the same time.

She softly moaned.

"I......I'm going to .....scream when you do it. I really am," she said, struggling to get the words out.

He smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again, straddling her over her hips.

Jerry pulled his mouth away.

"Now?" he whispered.

"Oh, fuck, yes," she whispered.

He pulled his fingers away from her tingling nipples.

"Right now?" he whispered.

Her breathing was ragged. She couldn't form words. She nodded.

Jerry moved his mouth down her neck, his hot breath making her worse. The anticipation was making her blind.

His hand gently cupped her, holding that aching nipple up to his mouth. He felt his own eyes flutter.

She'd already started to breath screamy breaths by the time he got closer, and gently blew air on her nipple. She gasped and he tried to hold her writhing body still.

Gently, his tongue touched her nipple, and a ragged scream poured from her. She was beyond lucid thought. She was so close. So close.

He slowly twirled his tongue around her aching nipple, pulled away, and blew on it again, now wet and even more sensitive. Stephanie's eyes had rolled back so far she thought they'd never recover. What was he doing to her?

Without warning, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, hard, working it feverishly with his tongue, and that was it. Stephanie exploded.

She rode with his mouth, their bodies in sync, fighting against the handcuffs, moaning, screaming, mumbling his name, other nonsense, as he moved his mouth back and forth to each of her nipples.

"Uncuff me," she begged, already losing her voice. He ignored her.

His mouth moved from her nipples and down her belly. 

Jerry was almost there when he heard the doorbell ring.

"What the fuck?" he said. He looked at the clock. It was after 2 a.m. 

It knocked Stephanie out of her trance.

"Jerry?" she whispered.

"Don't worry. Just wait here," he whispered.

He pulled his jeans back on and walked out of the bedroom to the living room. He saw the flashing lights immediately.

"Christ," he said.

Jerry opened the door. He recognized one of the cops right away.

"Jerry! I thought I saw your car earlier," he said.

"How's it going, Mike? What can I do for you?" Jerry said.

"We got a call from one of your neighbors that someone possibly screaming or in distress here. Someone on the lake," the officer said.

"Is someone else here?" Mike said.

Jerry blushed.

"Yes, but I can assure you she is not in distress," he said, smiling.

The other officer laughed, realization setting in.

"Well, Jerry, of course I believe you, but you know we will at least have to ask her. Can you ask her to come out for a second," he said.

Awkward, Jerry thought.

"I have to go get her," he said.

"Just ask her to come out. It will only take a second," Mike said.

"She's indisposed at the moment. Let me get her for you," Jerry said.

Well, this is one for the memory books, he thought.

He went back into the bedroom.
"What's going on?" Stephanie asked, as he uncuffed her.

"Someone misunderstood our evening and thought I was killing you," Jerry said, laughing.

"Oh my God," she said, blushing.

He threw her a police department t-shirt from his bag.

"Just tell the cops that I was instead making you come your brains out," he said, laughing.

"I will not!" Stephanie said.

He laughed again.

"Just tell them you are ok, then," he said.

Mortified, Stephanie stepped out into the living room.

"Evening, ma'am," Mike said.

"Just want to make sure everything is all right here," he said.

"I'm fine, officer. Thanks," she said. Her knees were still weak.

"Ok, Jerry, thanks. Sorry to bother you. Let's have a beer next time you're in town," he said.

"You got it, Mike," Jerry said, closing the door.

He could hear the cops laughing on the way back to the car, and smiled, locking the door.

Jerry turned and around and leaned his back against the door, looking at Stephanie. They caught each others' eye and burst into laughter.

"I'm so glad we came up here to stay under the radar," she said.

"Right?" he said.

"It's your fault," she said.

"Proud of it," Jerry said. 

He looked at her, in his PD t-shirt, looking so vulnerable in it. What was this woman doing to him? His laughter slowly faded away, looking in her eyes. He loved the look of her in his shirt. He wanted to protect her - but at the same time, he wanted to ravage her.

He never wanted to let anything happen to her. 

He wanted her. The need was enormous and overpowering and impossible to keep waiting. Stephanie watched with wonder as the emotions flooded his eyes. And saw that need. It almost frightened her with its intensity. She involuntarily took a step backward.

He walked slowly toward her until they were face to face at the bedroom door.

"Stephanie," he whispered, his fingers in her hair, tightening.

"Yes," she whispered back.

Their eyes locked.

"I want you," he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered again, driving him insane. She backed to the bed and he moved toward her, pulling off his jeans again.

He pushed her back on the bed, pulling her panties slowly off. She moved to pull the t-shirt off and he caught her hands.

"No, leave it on," he said.

He crawled over her on the bed, his mouth finding hers in a slow, hot, wet kiss that melted her. Her hands moved to around his neck, digging her nails into his skin as his hungry tongue lapped at hers. The kiss was ravenous, overwhelming. She moaned into his mouth as he moved up and between her legs.

Jerry pulled his mouth back for a moment and lost himself in the kiss again, her arms around him like she was drowning, and he slowly, slowly, slid himself inside her.

She gasped raw into his mouth.

"Stephanie," he whispered.

She looked in his eyes as he started to move.

"Shhhhhh," he said, smiling.

And then he started to move.

She bit her lip as she felt him, hot and hard, so deep inside her, and the gasps were uncontrollable.

"Faster," she said.

Her inner tension was at an all time high. This time, she was really going to explode. He could see it in her eyes.

She was so hot and wet, and Jerry lost himself in it. He tried to focus, to control himself, but her responses were so fucking erotic, the way she looked at him. How hot she was. How wet she was. 

He moved faster.

"That's it," she whispered.

She was almost there.

"Jerry," she whispered.

"What, honey," he said.

"I'm going to......," she whispered, trying to catch her breath.

"I'm going to scream," Stephanie said.

He smiled.

"Oh, I know you are. Any minute now, right?" he fucked her faster, in and out. He wasn't sure if he was going to scream himself. It was so good.

"Almost...," he said. He could see the countdown in her eyes.

"Ready?" he said.

Stephanie's eyes rolled back again in her head as covered her mouth with one hand and fucked her so hard, so fast, over and over. He could feel her coming inside and out, tightening against him, but he wasn't done. 

His hand over her mouth was so hot. She loved it. Controlling her, covering her screams.

"That's it, just like that," he whispered.

"Let it all go. Give me all you got," he said.

Her eyes fluttered uncontrollably. She didn't think she had the capacity to come like this.
And then he felt it. He couldn't control himself any longer. Harder and faster. Her fingers dug into his back, He let her mouth go to find it with his.

Their tongues were hot and wet as he could feel himself so close.

"Jerry," she whispered.

He looked in her eyes.

"You like fucking me in your police department t-shirt?" she said.

"Oh god. Don't," he whispered.

His eyes started to roll too.

She took one of his hands.

"Feel me in it. You feel that?" moving his hand over her nipple, over the shirt.

"Fuck, Stephanie. Don't!" he said.

He was almost there.

"It's like you own me. I'm yours. Like we're 17 and you're fucking me in your football jersey. Isn't it?" she said.

That was it for him.

"Oh, fuck yeah" he said, in long, slow, hard strokes, he finished both of them off in a powerful explosion.

He collapsed on her and they caught their breath slowly, together.

"Jerry," she whispered.

He lifted his head to look at her.

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"Can I keep the t-shirt?" she said.

He laughed.

"Only if I can keep you," he said.

"Deal," Stephanie said.
It was quiet for another minute.

"Jerry, what are we going to do. About us, I mean," she whispered.

"We're going to have to tell someone at some point. I don't want you to get in trouble. Or me," she said. 

"Stephanie," he said, looking in her eyes.

"Yes," she said.

"If there's anything my job has taught me, it is that some things are worth the risk — some are even necessary, despite the risk," he said.

She smiled warmly.

"I didn't realize dry cleaners took a lot of risks," she said.

He laughed.

"Starch or no starch! I thought the tag said polyester! God! What the fuck do I do?" Stephanie said.

"You, my dear, are a wise ass," he said, turning her over on the bed onto her belly.

"And I am not a dry cleaner," he said in her ear.

"I'm a police officer," he whispered.

She felt his body, hot and hard against her back.

"Oh God," she said.

"I'm a sergeant, in fact. And you are under arrest," he said.

"Oh God, Jerry, don't," she whispered.

He moved his hands down her body.

"You....," he whispered.

"Don't say it," Stephanie whispered.

He smiled.

"You have the right to remain silent," he whispered....

Stephanie gasped.

The End



Against the Law Ch. 05



Chapter 05: The Fight

Stephanie Mitchell was pissed. No two ways about it.

"So, basically what you're saying is, you don't trust me."

She put her fork down on the table and crossed her arms.

Jerry struggled with his patience. They'd been talking about it for 30 minutes and he had been unable to get through to her. He'd expected this conversation to happen at some point — a police sergeant dating the editor of the local paper was bound to cause some problems, even if it was still a secret. 

Things had been good — too good. These angry emotions were new for them to confront, but given how intense their reactions in every other good department, it made sense for their first fight to be just as intense.

But he was investigating a case and Stephanie wanted details — details that he was unable to provide, even off the record.

He took a sip of his drink and tried once more.

"Stephanie, this information is classified. Do you realize what that means? That means I am bound by my oath as an officer of the law to not reveal it as it could compromise an investigation and/or any eventual case or verdict," he said.

"I'm not asking you as a reporter. I'm asking you as me," she said.

He brought his hand down on the table in anger.

"It doesn't matter who you are. I can't tell you. And if this is going to work between us, you're going to have to accept there are things I can't always tell you," he said.

"But why? If you know I won't tell anyone, why does it matter?" she said.

He got up from the table in frustration.

"Ok, since clearly breaching my ethical responsibilities isn't enough of a reason for you, let me try it another way," he said.

"Let's just say someone finds out about you and me — which is going to happen one of these days, I promise you," Jerry said.

"The police officer is dating the editor of the paper who just so happens to be writing about crimes covered by said police officer's department," he said.

"Ok," she said.

"You're a smart woman, Stephanie. What do you think the first question my chief is going to ask you, and me?" he said.

She paused.

"He's going to ask us if I ever gave you classified information," Jerry said. 

"And if I haven't, I can answer him honestly. Because I won't be able to lie," he said, arms crossed. He could see he still wasn't making any headway.

And in his irritation, before he could stop himself, he said, "Maybe you're ok with lying like that, but I'm not. Some of us have different ethical standards than others."

"Nice, Jerry. Really fucking nice. I get it, I'm a member of the media so I'm a soulless, empty asshole," she said, blinking

"Now, wait a minute, I didn't say...," he started, but she put her hand up.

"I think we're done here for tonight. Why don't you just go?" she said.

He could see she was blinking back tears and was pissed off at himself for saying that, but he was also pissed off at her for her stubbornness that drove him to that level of frustration.

"Yes, it's probably better I go for now so we don't say anything we regret," he said.

"You mean anything else, right?" she said, walking away from him.

"Good night, Jerry," she whispered.

"Steph..," he said.

"Just go," she said.

He let himself out, sad and confused.

++++++

Days later, Stephanie woke from a restless sleep. It was Monday. The day she'd have to see him again. They had not spoken in the days since Jerry had left. She was profoundly hurt by what he had said. For him to think she was unethical cut her to the core. But she also knew she had been wrong to push him on the classified information. She was putting him to some kind of unreasonable test that wasn't fair.

She knew he probably spoke out of a place of anger but still. It was hard to hear. She wasn't ready to call or text. She felt it was up to him. And now he was doing a media presentation of the new shooting range at the police station. The only way she could get through it was to look as good as possible and try to play it cool.

She got up and brushed her teeth. She looked at her tired face in the mirror. The stress had been getting to her. Looking good was going to be easier said than done.

+++++

Jerry arrived at work at 9, both stressed about the media presentation and excited. He'd missed her so much. Maybe this was the ice breaker they both needed. They both had a streak of Irish stubbornness that made them unable to break down and reach out to one another. It helped that they both knew this day was coming, so neither one of them technically had to. But still, it had been so hard for him to hold out. 

"Hey, Rafferty. You're looking worse for wear today," his chief said as he headed to his desk.

"Thanks, Chief. I'm all right. Haven't been sleeping well," Jerry said.

"You ready for today?" the chief asked.

Chief Tom Farmer had been on the force for over 30 years and had worked alongside Jerry's father. He was tough but kind. Aside from his father, Farmer had taught Jerry everything he'd ever needed to know about police work. 

"I'm ready, Chief," Jerry said.

"So who is coming?" the chief asked.

"Um, Mike Delvicchio from that stupid news website. Someone from the next town over's daily paper. Not sure who yet...," Jerry said.

"Oh, and Stephanie...Stephanie Mitchell," he said, looking down, feeling guilty, "from the Bugle."

Farmer sensed something but dismissed it as Rafferty's lack of sleep.

"Ok, let's get the range set up for company," he said.

++++++

Stephanie, wearing a short grey dress and heeled boots, counted to three before she got out of the car. She realized too late that this was probably a bad idea. She was going to feel emotional seeing him after the last encounter and now it would be for an audience.

But it was too late now. Time to face the music. She parked the car in the station's parking lot, took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, notebook and pen, and headed inside.

She saw Mike Delvecchio in the lobby waiting. Delvecchio was Stephanie's longest-running competitor. He edited the local version of the Daily, a chain of news websites that aimed for hits and not quality. Delvecchio wasn't a bad journalist, Stephanie begrudgingly admitted, but in his quest to beat the Bugle in breaking news Mike sometimes went a little too tabloid, too controversial.

"Hey, Mitch," he said, using his nickname that stuck years ago. She was sort of fond of it. It had an old-fashioned newsroom vibe.

"Hey, Mike. How are ya?" she said.

"Not bad. Waiting for Sgt. Rafferty. I already let him know I was here," he said.

She glanced out the window. 

"Cool," she said.

A few minutes later she heard the door open that separated the lobby and the inner part of the station. She forced herself to look over and caught Jerry's eye — as briefly as possible. She felt his eyes run over her. It was impossible not to.

He moved quickly to Mike and shook his hand.

"Hey guys, come on in. The other dude isn't here yet but we can start without him," Jerry said. So we can get this overwith, he said to himself. This was going to be more stressful than he thought.

They got to the indoor shooting range and saw the chief.

Stephanie stuck out her hand.

"Hey there, Chief Farmer," she said. He shook it.

"How's it going, Stephanie?" he asked.

"Not bad," she said. She always had liked the chief. 

"Hey, Mike," he said, acknowledging Delvecchio less warmly. There had been a recent arrest and accusation of overzealous police force that Mike had gotten a little carried away with. Chief Farmer wasn't one to trust easily and once it was broken, it was broken.

"Ok, Jerry, let's get this show on the road," the chief said. In the meantime, the other nameless reporter from the nearby daily paper had shown up. They gave him a cursory nod. The staff at that paper changed so often there was no point in getting acquainted. 

"Ok, you guys ready?" Jerry asked.

Stephanie nodded, her back against the wall. Arms folded.

Their eyes met and held for a moment — too long. Long enough for their eyes to say they were sorry. To say "I miss you." Long enough for her to feel relief and warmth and...something else. Long enough and quiet enough that the chief noticed.

"Jerry?" he said.

It was just long enough to break them both, but Jerry got back on his game. 

He snapped into informative mode to distract him from her vibe in the room, now that she was staring at him in a different way. He talked about the features of the electronic shooting range, its practice benefits, and how it helped the officers learn to cope with surprise without being in actual danger.

"So, you going to show us a real live demonstration?" Mike said.

Oh, God, no, Stephanie thought to herself. There was no way for her to watch him shoot a gun for the first time right at that moment. She was too raw. Too emotional. Too tired and too vulnerable.

"What do you say, Chief?" Jerry said, completely aware of what it would do to her, and suddenly — absolutely into doing it.

"Sure, why not?" the chief said.

Jerry set up the back ground on the shooting range with a standard target, hit the button to make it slide further away. 

"You guys should stand back against that wall," he said.

Stephanie's heart was already racing and his eyes on hers did not help. Her exhaustion was making it hard to breathe. 

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said, his eyes locked with hers. 

Mike stopped for a minute and eyeballed the two of them. He had that reporter's sense nudged — there was something more than was meeting the eye. But he wasn't sure what. He kept watching. 

Jerry put his safety glasses on. He stood before the threshold of the range. 

Stephanie leaned her back against the wall because her knees were so weak. She wanted to run. Drop her notebook and take off. She could not watch him shoot his gun right now. She was cracked in half by her vulnerability and was unable to hide her physical reaction.

Jerry could feel the heat radiating from her and he tried to hide his smile. He knew he was messing with her, but after the pain they had both been through the last few days this was too good to not give in to. He just wanted to make them both feel better. Feel good. Really good.

He slowly pulled his Glock 23 .40 cal gun from his holster, glanced over at them, caught her eye again, and lifted his arms to aim. 

Stephanie watched his movements, unable to handle it but unable to look away.

She watched his hands that had handled her so well, so skillfully, so tenderly and roughly, handle the gun. 

The gun that he'd traced up her inner thigh. The gun that she'd touched with her tongue. She watched his finger tease the trigger.

She fought the urge to bite hard into her knuckle, watching his finger's dancing tease. 

Jerry let it hang a little longer, knowing he was torturing her and unable to stop himself. Knowing it was probably stupid but the good outweighed the bad.

Stephanie held her breath, waiting.....waiting.....waiting.....

BANG! The gun went off.

BANG. Stephanie dug her fingernails into her hand in a clenched fist. She tried not to gasp watching his finger work the trigger. Again. And again.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Hey, Mitch, you ok," Mike asked. 

"Uh...yeah....I just am feeling light-headed all of a sudden," she whispered.

"Hey, Chief, Stephanie might need a chair or something," Mike yelled.

"Rafferty, hold your fire!" the chief yelled.

Jerry took off his goggles and put his gun back in the holster.

"You ok, Stephanie?" the chief asked.

"Yes, I'm fine! I'm fine," she said.

"She looked a little pale for a second, like she was gonna pass out," Mike said. 

"Hey, Chief, I've got this," Jerry said, trying hard to sound casual.

"She probably just needs some water. Guys, I'm going to let this officer handle the demo for a moment while I get Stephanie some place she can sit down," he said.

"Come on, Steph," he said.

Mike, again, was on alert. There was an intimacy there that raised his flags. He watched.

The two of them walked out of the shooting range and it took all of Jerry's self control to not take her hand. But he knew there was surveillance in every corner.

"Follow me," he said.

She smiled to herself, walking behind him. 

He swiped a security card and opened a door. He led her to his desk. 

"Sit here. I'll get you some water," he said, looking into her eyes at his desk chair.

She searched his eyes. 

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

He walked out into the hall and went to the water cooler. Mike Delvecchio met him in the hallway. 

"Mitch doing ok?" he asked, with more of a nosey air than Jerry liked.

"She's fine. Just needed to sit down," Jerry said, shorter than he intended.

"Good," Mike said. 

"Well, I better get her this water," Jerry said.

"Ok," Mike said.

Jerry walked away, uneasy but eager to get back to her.

+++++

The chief sat in the control room after the demo, after all the demonstration. 

"Chief Farmer?" 

He turned in his chair. Delvecchio. That bastard.

"Yes, Mike?" he said.

"Chief, have you noticed anything strange between Rafferty and Mitchell?" he said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the chief said.

"Just a vibe. I don't know. You think something could be going on between them?" Mike said.

"I've known Jerry Rafferty since he was born. I think I would be aware if something like that was going on," Chief Farmer said.

"Why don't you focus on reporting news instead of creating it — your specialty," the chief said.

Mike smiled.

"Ok, Chief," he said, smiling, and left the office. Chief Farmer knew that was not the end of it.

The chief turned to the surveillance cameras.

He watched Jerry give Stephanie the water. Watched her drink it and watched him crouch down before her in the chair and say something the chief did not need to hear to understand. He watched Jerry turn to leave — and watched Stephanie grab his arm, and him turn back. Farmer paused the camera.

Thirty-plus years of police work told him all he needed to know about the gesture.

"Jerry.... Jerry, what are you thinking?" he whispered to the camera. 

++++ Stephanie drank the water and Jerry bent down before her to meet her eyes.

"You sure you are ok?" he said.

"Yes, you got me good though," she said. 

Jerry laughed softly. "I know, I'm sorry. I have just been so miserable the last few days and it just felt too good to feel your eyes on me like that," he said, looking deep into hers.

Their eyes locked. Her invitation hot and unmistakable.

"Don't do this to me now, Steph," he said.

She didn't look away.

He whispered.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'm going to have to throw you up on this desk right now," he said.

Stephanie smiled.

"Seriously! You need to get out of here before you get us both in trouble," Jerry said. 

He turned to leave.

"Wait," Stephanie said, grabbing his arm.

"What?" he said, smiling.

"I...I miss you...," she whispered.

"Me too, Steph," he said. It took all his effort not to touch her cheek.

"I've got to get back to work. But I'm going to take you up on THAT," he said, his eyes on hers.

"Soon," he said.

She felt that weakness again.

"Ok....," she said, smiling but annoyed at the mysteriousness of his promise.

+++++++

Later that night, Stephanie pounded away at her keyboard. It was late but she had hoped that work would take her mind off everything else. 

Instead, all she could think about was the sound of that gun going off. BANG. Watching his finger tease the trigger.

She was always a little uneasy being in the office as late as she was, after being assaulted at one point when someone broke in. But she'd learned her lesson and kept the door locked.

She waited for a phone call or a text message from Jerry, but he was still being distant. It had been so good to see him that it didn't even bother her. She was confident in how he felt about her. So if he wanted to wait, that was fine. Better, even.

It seemed almost at the moment she had that thought, there was a knock at the door. Her instinct was to panic. But then Stephanie thought better of it.

"Who's there?" she said.

"It's me, Steph," she heard his voice say.

The movement of her fingers unlocking the door resonated deep within her.

She backed away from the door as he stepped inside. The lights were low. It was how she worked. He locked the door behind him.

He had changed from his uniform into a t-shirt and jeans, and her favorite, his backwards baseball hat. 

"How did you know I was here?" she said.

"Lucky guess," he said, smiling.

"Yes, because God forbid you actually call," she said, smiling back.

"I was playing hard to get," he whispered, walking toward her.

She bit her lower lip.

"And now?" she whispered.

"Now?" he said.

"Now, I'm just hard," he said.

"Oh God," she said.

She backed into her office, her back against the desk.

He lifted her onto the desk, hands on her hips. His mouth found hers. 

Their kiss was deep and sweet and just relieved....relieved of the hurt, the pain, the agony of separation, the sweet relief made it so hot to feel his fingers in her hair, feel her fingers dig into his back, feel her drive her hips against him, feel them want each other so tight together.

So tightly she drove herself against him, their mouths working each other. He pulled her dress over her head. 

His fingers pushed down the straps of her bra, finding her hot nipples with his fingers, and she heard him sigh in pleasure with the feeling. He pulled his mouth away from hers, not far, but far enough to whisper.

"You liked watching me shoot that gun?" he said, whispering into her mouth.

"Oh my God," she whispered. Her hands sought him out, opened the button fly of his jeans, slowly.

She found him hard and eager for her.

"That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen," she said.

"You liked watching my finger work the trigger...pump out those bullets?" he whispered.

Her breathing starting to get shallower, coming in gasps.

He pushed her back onto the desk. He pulled her panties down over her boots and dropped them to the floor.

"You know I was thinking about your clit when I was working that trigger, don't you?" he said.

He moved his dick against her now, almost there. She wanted him to fuck her in his t-shirt and baseball hat on backwards. It was always that high school vibe that drove her crazy, that jock, that protector, the scent of testosterone and gun powder.

That gun powder.

She took his hand in hers and brought his fingers to her mouth. She could taste it. She took his thumb in her mouth as he slid himself all the way inside her. All the way.

"Oh, God, Stephanie," he whispered.

It was so good.

"Bang me like that gun," she whispered, working his thumb with her tongue.

He thrust slowly inside her, in and out, in and out, faster, faster, harder, and it was SO good. They'd both ached for this since that stupid fight. Just fuck it away, she thought. Fuck it all away.

"Harder, Jerry, harder," she urged him.

He lifted her legs under his arms, holding onto the desk for leverage. She was so soaking wet. Her back arched on her desk, taking all he had to give. 

"It's .....so good....," she looked into his eyes now. Not letting go of them. 

"Yeah, baby. Come on," she whispered.

"Don't," he said, trying to look away.

She lifted up and took his face in her hands.

"Come on baby," she said.

"I want you to explode like that gun today," she said.

"Oh God," he said, but his body was ahead of his mind, and he went faster, faster. Harder. Her pussy was so hot, so wet. He'd missed it so much. Thought about it every night. Yeah, yeah, it was done. He was finished.




Against the Law Ch. 05



"Here it comes, Steph," he said. And she was glad he did, because then she just closed her eyes to wait for it, coming, coming.

Harder, harder and then they both exploded in ecstatic orgasmic deliciousness. He dropped to lie on her on the desk, his head on her chest. Her fingers pushed his baseball hat off and ran her fingers through his hair.

After they caught their breath, he moved to sit in her office chair and pulled her onto his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Stephanie," he said.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered into him.

He kissed her mouth softly again.

"Let's never fight again," he whispered.

She pulled away, smiling at him.

"Well, let's not be too hasty," she said.

"What?" he said.

"That make-up sex is pretty fucking good," Stephanie said.

Jerry laughed out loud.

"And I've been meaning to talk to you about a few things," she said, smiling.

"Is that so?" Jerry said, his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh.

"Oh...yeah," she said, as he found her, wet and ready.

"That whole not tightening the top of the toothpaste thing?" she said.

He slid two fingers inside her, slowly, in and out.

"What are you going to fucking do about it?" he whispered.

"I'm so fucking......," she tried to start, and then he moved faster.

Faster.

The End 



Against the Law



She laughed.

"Seriously!" he said.

He took the handcuffs in one finger, and lowered them onto her upper right thigh.

Slowly, he made a path along her body with the other end of the handcuffs, over her belly, up her body, over her nipples, her back arching, her fingers seeking him out.

He dropped the cuffs on the floor with a loud thud.

"Since the other night, I haven't been able to think about a Goddamn thing but fucking your brains out," he said.

And that he said it so matter of factly made the impact all the more intense.

That was it for her.

"Oh yeah?" she said.

"Oh yeah," he answered, feeling her hands under his clothes, opening his buttons one by one.

His shirt over his head, she greedily found his body with her mouth, finding his arms, his chest, his nipples, but then she pulled back.

"What is it?" he said.

"Do you know what I can't stop thinking about?" she said.

His fingers were in her hair now, her back on the bed, him on one elbow over her.

"What's that?" he said, those shimmering pale blue eyes always making her feel naked in the most delicious way.

"Kissing you," she said.

His eyes warmed.

"We haven't done that yet, have we?" he said.

She shook her head no, shyly.

"Well I certainly haven't been much of a gentleman," he said.

She began to say something but then his fingers found her hair, his eyes locked on hers, his thumb finding her lips, opening them to him.

Her hands stole to his neck, and their open mouths met.

There are connections that surprise us, all of us — those warm feelings we get from a near stranger. There can be a closeness we feel from another soul that we barely know. Then there is a closeness we experience that is like part of the natural elements of the universe, the smiles, the surprise hug that feels right. The understanding of someone else's thoughts, the idea that we've maybe known each other before. 

That was how the kiss felt, for both of them. Their mouths open, their tongues finding each other, and all his misgivings melted away in the molten lava that was that kiss, their bodies tightly together, their tongues circling one another, her hip locked around his. 

"Oh, God," she gasped into his mouth.

"I know," he whispered back. 

Her fingers dug into his muscled back and she rolled him underneath her to tease his mouth with hers, tongues taunting each other. He pulled her nightgown over her head and sat up, his mouth eagerly finding her nipple, as he'd been aching to do since the last night.

Her arms locked around his neck as his tongue teased her nipple, easily working an orgasm out of her in moments, his face scratchy against her breast, his teeth teasing her gently.

"Fuck yeah," she whispered, and was embarrassed. There was something underlying wholesome in him, in them, that made her ashamed to be so wanton and sexual with him, while still he turned her inside out. His taut tight body, his mind fucking eyes. 

She pushed him away.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I want you so badly," she said.

He smiled.

"I think I've made it clear the feeling is mutual," he said.

"I mean, I want you, like in a dirty, slutty, filthy way," she said.

He was quiet.

"Like, I care about you so much. And you are such a good person. But still I want you to fuck me until I can't walk. Is that disrespectful? I want to value you as a person. And I do! But I still lay awake at night thinking about your dick. About it everywhere," she said.

Their eyes again, locked. 

"I understand exactly how you feel," he said. And he did, because he'd been struggling with the same.

"And I think there's only one way to fix it," he said.

She lowered her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, reaching for her nightgown.

He got off the bed.

She buried her face in her nightgown, until he ripped it away.

He tossed it to the floor.

He leaned over her on the bed, pulling her to the edge. 

"This way," he whispered, his eyes boiling over, sending her into the breakable end of the thermometer.

They reached for the button of his pants together and they fell to the floor quickly. And he held her hips tightly and watched her back arch, her nipples in the air, as he slid slowly, so slowly, inside her. And oh, oh God, she was so fucking wet. Off the charts wet.

"I really should arrest you," he said.

She nodded quickly.

"You have the right to remain silent," he whispered.

She laughed out loud.

"No fucking way that's happening," she said.

Harder, faster, he slid deeper inside her, exactly as they both had dreamed the last week, probably longer, if they'd admit it.

Her fingers were buried in her hair, and faster he moved, harder, deep into her soaking wet pussy.

"Faster, faster," she moaned.

"Give it to me," she whispered.

And he gave it to her. Like he'd obsessed over, wanting to, needing to, the connection there, every laugh they'd shared, every long, meaningful stare, every smile they couldn't explain — it was lost inside their fucking.

And they felt the rumbling, the inner rumbling, both of them, surfacing, close, closer, faster. She came first, riding it once, twice, over, until he followed, finally, that blessed relief he'd been aching for. He'd wanted, needed so bad.

He lifted her to the bed and wrapped himself around her. Almost immediately they both gently closed their eyes, both sleep deprived, both exploded with relief.

She whispered his name, his first name, for the first time. 

"Yes?" he answered, pulling the covers around them both, but suddenly wide awake, on fire, again.

"What will you do if I go 20 miles over the speed limit?" she asked, a smile on her face.

He smiled back at her, and reached off the bed for something. He came up with the handcuffs in his hand.

"I'll show you," he said.

The end.