Chapter 15

The symphony was wonderful, as was the late evening dinner they had at a little Italian restaurant Zack knew about. It was past eleven when they finally got back to Zack's car. Val leaned back in her seat and sighed.

"I ate too much. I'm just stuffed. I bet I look fat."

Zack glanced at her lithe form in the clinging dress. "You're fishing for a compliment." he said.

Her smile was only white teeth reflected in the light from the street light.

"You caught me mister detective. I can't help it. You make me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful." he said firmly.

"I know, but you make me feel beautiful." she said. "So, where are you taking me now?"

"It's probably time to take you home." he said reluctantly. He figured the news van was probably gone by now.

"Oh goody!" she chirped. "I've never been in a detective's house."

"Your home, girl." he corrected.

"But I'm in protective custody!" she pouted. "In the movies the detective always takes the girl in protective custody to a nice hotel, or to his house to keep her safe."

"Believe me Val, if I took you to my house, safe is the last thing you'd be."

"Mmmmm sounds interesting." she purred. "I've never done that with a detective either."

"Girl, you're killing me." he said, fiddling with the keys.

Suddenly she was up off her seat and on her knees, leaning over him. She fell sideways and he caught her automatically as her back hit the steering wheel. Those sparkling strawberry lips crushed against his as he pulled in air reflexively and her arms went around his neck, crushing her braless breasts to his chest. Her kiss was warm, soft and ardent all at the same time. He was surprised at the insistent attempts her tongue made to get between his lips and he opened them instinctively.

Then he was lost in that kiss, and returned it hungrily. He hadn't kissed a woman like this in a long time. His hands went to her back and crushed her against him. She hummed through her nose as the kiss went on and on and she worked her lips and tongue against his.

Finally she lessened the pressure, signaling that she wanted to break and he let her pull back.

"Am I killing you now?" she whispered. "Or is it all better?"

"I have to take you home." he whispered.

"I can sleep on the couch." she whispered back. "I brought my jammies."

"Your mother..." he protested.

"I'm a big girl." she kissed him softly. "And you're not out with my mother. Besides, I can handle my mother."

"I might do something stupid." he groaned.

"I can handle you too." she said.

"That's what I'm afraid of." he moaned. His imagination had her ... handling him ... quite nicely.

"I thought that all men wanted was to jump a girl's bones," she pouted.

Zack pushed her back against the wheel. It didn't do much good because her breasts were still pressing against his chest. But it got those lush lips far enough away from his that he could get a breath.

"I like you Val." he said. "I think I like you a lot. I don't want us to do something you'll be sorry for tomorrow. I don't think I'd like it if you were unhappy with me."

"Then take me home... your home..." she said, her voice low, "or you'll find out what it's like when I'm unhappy." She waited a split second and added: "If it will make you feel better, nothing has to happen. I'm having such a good time. I just don't want to go back to Circleton right now."

She got off of him then, going back to her seat and sitting primly, pulling her dress down from where it had crept up almost to her hips. Knowing what someone looking in the window might have seen only made it harder for Zack. She sat, looking forward silently.

Zack got the feeling that they were at a break point. She had stated her mind. She looked tense, almost as if she were afraid of something. Rejection? She had come on pretty strongly. Maybe she was having second thoughts. Zack didn't know what to do.

"Fasten your seat belt," he ordered.

She did and he started the car. He pulled out, darting quick glances at her. She seemed to relax a little when they didn't head toward the edge of town.

He tried to remember what his apartment looked like. He hadn't planned on bringing anybody home. He wasn't a slob, but then he didn't pick everything up all the time either. He worried about that for ten blocks and then gave up. She still hadn't said a word, and was looking out the side window as they sped by the night-lighted city.

The first thing she said was when he opened her door after he parked.

"Thank you." she said, almost formally.

She had to remind him about her bag in the trunk.

"My jammies." she said, turning to look at the facade of the apartment building.

He got the bag and ushered her up the stairs. It was a walkup. He suddenly felt old beside her light youthful step as her short heels clacked on the steps. She took her bag from him and stood patiently as he unlocked his door.

"I wasn't planning on bringing anybody home." he made the excuse as he reached in to flip on the light. "It might be a little messy."

She ignored the clutter as he snatched up some clothing draped on the couch. She looked around, dropping her bag on the couch.

"So this is what a detective's apartment looks like." she said to the room in general.

She zeroed in on his collection of African art, consisting of paintings and wood carvings. One of his partners had been black and had introduced him to the exquisite carvings, most of which had something to do with fertility. In the same little shops where he'd found those, he'd seen paintings that were so lifelike they made the breath catch in his chest. They were of fierce warriors, or bare breasted maidens mostly, but there was also one of a lion that looked almost like a photograph, so detailed was it. The lion's eyes nailed the viewer to the floor, and you got the feeling that if you moved, he'd leap right at you.

She stood and stared at everything. Once she reached out and traced a finger across the cheek of a long wooden mask with staring circular eyes and inlays of mother of pearl in designs Zack now knew marked the mask as a man's wedding mask.

"They're beautiful." she breathed.

"Thank you." he said. "I like them too."

She turned and went back to the couch, picking up her bag. She looked around and headed for the short hallway that led to his bedroom and the bathroom. "It's bedtime." she said not looking back. "I'm going to change into my jammies."

Zack stood there helplessly. He hoped for a long flannel nightgown. If not that at least a thick flannel top and bottom. What did young women wear for pajamas these days? The last thing he remembered was something called Baby Dolls. Baby Dolls would be dangerous. Just thinking about that made him stiffen again. He felt like he'd been stiff all night long and his balls ached.

This was a mistake.

Bringing her here was a mistake.

He'd never get to sleep, with her on the couch, only twenty feet away from his bed.

In the other room Val was nervous. She hadn't shown it, but she'd been excited and nervous all night long. The shopping trip had started it. The symphony had melted her as she leaned against his strong arm, smelling the faint scent of some after shave he wore. The meal had filled part of her. She knew she was being silly, and that it probably wouldn't go well at all when she went back out there. She had dreamed and planned this night for years, not knowing what man she would be with. She knew her dream probably would fall apart, but it had gone amazingly well thus far.

He was so cute when he was trying to be good. It made her want him even more. His kisses had been electric and his hands on her had made her whole body tremble. When she'd gotten off of him and sat back down, waiting to see what he would do, she was wet down there. She was afraid he'd smell her arousal. She was even more afraid he'd take her back to her mother, a little girl after all, being taken back home to mommy. Her relief when he'd headed back into town had been so strong she'd had to stifle a sob.

She was proud of the role she'd played thus far, proud that she'd been able to pull it off with what she hoped was flair. She didn't want this man to see her as a girl. No, she wanted him to look at her like a woman. She knew he wanted her. She also knew he was trying not to. She put on the garment she'd brought for this part of the dream. She stood up, took in a great breath and tried to relax. She was a big girl now. She could do this.

She reached for the doorknob.

Zack was picking up books from where he'd dropped them. He read three or four novels at the same time, unable to stay interested in only one. He'd picked up a beer bottle and thrown it in the trash. He picked up a glass and an empty Styrofoam soup container from the end table, where he'd left them after eating last night. He was trying to think of what he could cover the couch with when she came down the hallway.

It wasn't a flannel nightgown.

It wasn't any kind of flannel.

He gaped.

What he saw was a thin string crossing high over each hip, connected to a roughly triangular patch of lavender cloth that tried to cover her pussy.

Nothing else.

His professional mind noticed she had used the lipstick on her nipples, and they now matched her lips. Those nipples perched on paler areolas that were only a shade darker than the breasts they lay against. She had left her hair in the braid and her neck looked impossibly long and thin as she stepped out of the darkness of the hallway and into the light of the living room.

"I like to sleep cool." she said, her voice low. "Do you like my jammies?"

The glass dropped to the floor with a thud from Zack's nerveless fingers. He felt his knees going and sat on the couch heavily.

"That's not fair." he rasped. He could feel his heart thudding insistently in his chest. There was a roaring in his ears that he knew from his job was a result of blood rushing to his brain. It was common in people who were experiencing overwhelming emotion, such as someone about to commit murder in a fit of passion. Sometimes they couldn't hear what was being said to them at that moment because of the rushing noise in the ears.

She stood and looked at him, her head tilted slightly, like she was examining something on a shelf. His hands fluttered to his lap, to cover his complete, iron hard, ready-to-go, very insistent erection.

Her breasts thrust from her chest and looked rock hard, like they had been chiseled from fine granite. They didn't move as she bent over and picked up a throw pillow from the end of the couch Zack wasn't sitting on. Instead of tossing the pillow to the chair across the way, she turned and walked to it.

It turned out what she was wearing was a thong.

That slim cord of purple went around her back, just above the split of her buttocks and another slim cord slid down into that crack, disappearing completely. She didn't drop the pillow in the chair, she bent over, her left foot taking a small step to the side. The shape of her pussy lips, cupped lovingly in soft purple cloth became visible. She looked over her shoulder at him as her braid slid off her back and dropped in front of her.

"Should I put this here?" she asked, her voice completely innocent.

Zack was a hard bitten detective. He knew people and he knew manipulation. He used it all the time. He hadn't manipulated this girl ... no this woman. He hadn't had to. He knew he was being played. She had obviously studied how to do these things to a man ... had practiced. She was rock steady, a vamp in action, a slut begging for it.

But Zack also knew that this woman was no vamp ... no slut. She was acting like one, but he knew better. He'd spent a little time with some of her family members, and this was not what that family had taught her. His brain responded to the seduction she was obviously trying to pull off, and he actually regained some control he had lost as his mind whirred. Why was she doing this? What did she hope to gain? What was her angle? She was legal. He knew that. He'd run her name through the system. She hadn't gotten so much as a parking ticket in either Sacramento or Circleton. She was in college, studying interior design - he knew that from their talk at dinner. She was acting like an extremely high class hooker.

But she wasn't a high class hooker. He knew that. It was an act.

That gave him more control. He still wanted her. He'd be crazy not to want her. But he was no longer helpless.

"There is fine." he said, proud that his voice was steady. "I have an extra pillow in my bedroom." He wanted to grin, but kept his face blank. "You want a sheet to cover the couch?"

That got her. He saw her tense up. It made her lovely buttocks jump. She stood up and turned around, her cheeks pink and a frown on her lovely face. Man! She was gorgeous.

Her facade cracked.

"Zack Simpson," she said, her voice strong. "I'm not sleeping on that couch and you know it."

Zack felt his balls tighten and his prick leak. He forced a tight smile.

"I thought we agreed you were going to sleep on the couch." he said smoothly. She had teased him. Now it was his turn.

Her face fell and she actually looked hurt. He could see her eyes glisten suddenly, and knew that they were about to overflow. He realized on the instant that she was serious about her seduction. She was no longer acting the role. She was suddenly vulnerable. That made his heart thump again. This girl wasn't a pro ... an actress. She was sending too many conflicting signals. He suddenly realized she wanted to do this, but was on the verge of being terrified. He had to do something, but he was still worried.

He stood up, his knees working again.

"Come here." he said.

She looked startled, but took a timid step toward him. He kept his eyes on her face, hard as that was. He didn't try to cover his erection, but she was looking at his face.

When she took only a baby step more he stepped toward her and reached up to slide his hands along each jaw. She tensed.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked gently. Feeling silly he leaned forward to kiss her on the tip of her nose, and then on her forehead.

Her eyes widened and her hands went to his waist. She didn't push. He had reversed roles on her. She had been in control, but suddenly wasn't any more. She also didn't say anything.

Zack let his hands slide down each side of her throat to her shoulders, and then smoothed his rough hands down to her elbows. He moved them to her thin waist and had to slide them between her arms and where he wanted to touch her. Her eyes, staring into his, still glistened, but no longer threatened to overflow. He slid his hands up, his thumbs feeling the ribs he'd been able to count while she wore the dress. They ran into the outside swells of her breasts and he stopped, his thumbs pressing gently there. She took a deep breath, but still didn't say anything.

Zack didn't either, just staring into her eyes. He could get lost in those eyes. His thumbs moved on their own, making tiny back and forth movements, stroking the sides of her breasts. The tip of her tongue flicked out, wetting her still shiny lips. For a split second Zack thought she was acting like a virgin, but he knew she wasn't. She was too practiced to be that. Why she'd picked him, he didn't know, and she wouldn't say, but her scent was making him crazy. He leaned forward to kiss her, this time on the lips, but was just as gentle. She almost surged against him, her hands sliding to his back and then up as she kissed him back hungrily.

Then his control fled as his body responded to hers. They tried to eat each other's lips, their tongues clashing and licking. Her hands came around to his shirt and fumbled with the buttons. He broke the kiss, biting her lower lip and sucking on it before letting go and leaning back. He pushed her hands away from the second button.

"Bedroom." he ordered.

She jumped at the tone of his voice, but obeyed instantly, turning and actually running to the room she'd seen when she went into the bathroom. He followed, shedding the shirt and his belt, kicking off his shoes in the hallway while trying to watch her bouncing buttocks as she ran. His pants were undone and unzipped when he turned the corner to see her lying on the bed, flat on her back, legs straight and arms at her sides. Gone was the vamp, just as suddenly as she had appeared and something jarred in his mind again. He pushed that away as her hands came up to arrange the pillow under her head. She stared at him and her hands went to lie gently on her stomach. His training told him it was a defensive posture, but almost naked like she was he ignored that. He pushed his pants down, afraid of tripping on them if he just dropped them. Stepping out he then reached for his boxers and pushed them down too. Standing up he exposed what she had done to him. All she did was wet her lips again.

He stopped to remove his socks and then kneed onto the bed, expecting her to either move over or spread her legs. She did neither, lying almost stiffly, though her hands moved to her sides again. He had to straddle one of her legs, getting one knee between hers and leaving the other outside as he loomed over her. She was breathing heavily now, her breasts heaving as if she'd run some distance. Again he saw something like fear in her eyes, but ignored it. She couldn't be afraid. It didn't fit with her other actions.

On all fours he went for more kisses. Her response was gratifying as her hands came up and slid through his hair, pulling his face against her. When he kissed across her cheek and down to her throat she moaned softly and arched her neck to give his lips room to explore. He kept going, down to her shoulder and then lower to the swell of her left breast. Now her legs opened for him, as his lips neared that pale and pink nipple. It was stiff, hard, rubbery between his lips as he sucked it in and her chest heaved upwards off the bed. Her hands still entwined in his hair pulled hard again as he sucked, and lightly nibbled the little nubbin.

He paid some attention to the other breast before going between them to start lower. He found he was actually shaking as his lips got to her belly button and he stopped to probe it with his tongue. She wiggled under him and her hands suddenly left his hair and slammed down on each side of her body. Her legs were spread enough now that he could crawl between them and he did so, kissing down over her flat belly to where there should have been hair. It was bare and the next thing he felt under his lips was the little slip of purple that covered where he wanted to kiss and lick and suck next. Making himself wait, he nuzzled through the fabric with his nose, digging it in, pressing it between her lips as his fingers found the strings on her hips and began inching them downward agonizingly slowly. Her moans and other sounds came more raggedly now and her hips moved jerkily, sometimes down, or to the side, almost as if she were trying to get away from him.