Insubordination
Copyright© 2010 by RPSuch
Chapter 11
"John, we can't see each other anymore."
Not what I was expecting. I made a face; the one Gary Coleman made on Different Strokes.
I asked, "What you talkin' about, Willis?"
Maeve reached into the middle drawer of her nightstand and took something out. She drew it over her head and turned to me. There was something hanging on a chain between her very lovely, naked breasts.
"I'm FBI," she insisted when I didn't comment.
I had been focusing on her breasts. Hanging between them was her FBI identification.
"Oh."
Why was she telling me? Have I done something that removed me from suspicion of any wrongdoing? Was she about to arrest me?
"Hold that thought. If we've got to stop seeing each other, why don't we enjoy this one more time? I've never done it with an FBI special agent in, uh, uniform."
She looked down at her ID. "Is that what this is?"
She was amenable to my suggestion.
When we finished this time I asked, "Why don't we start this, whatever you're going to do, in the shower unless it's going to involve handcuffs not in a nice way?"
Whatever she had to tell me, I could still make her laugh.
"Is that waterproof?" I pointed to her ID.
"Thanks." She took it off.
We let the water warm up and then got into the shower.
I washed her hair. I didn't just let the shampoo suds up, I massaged her scalp.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "Why did you have to be a cop?"
"It was either that or be a criminal. Would that work out better for you?"
"I'm going to smack you for that when you finish your massage, so take your time."
I moved to my hands down to her neck and massaged it. I slid them down to her shoulders and massaged. I continued down her arms all the way to her wrists, massaging all the way.
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