“All units, shots fired, domestic dispute in progress. Caller states male subject sounds drunk and screaming, and there is a woman and male toddler in the apartment…”
They were both up and moving, Ethan leaving a couple of twenties on the table. The waitress knew them and knew they were cops and would put the extra on their tab to apply toward their next meal. Normally, they paid in advance in case of this very situation. That afternoon they were supposed to be off-duty, due at the state attorney’s office in an hour to go over testimony for a case tomorrow.
Except that they were less than four blocks from the address the dispatcher gave.
Brita had already responded to dispatch that they were close and en route.
They’d taken Ethan’s unmarked unit to lunch. He hit the keyfob to pop the truck and grab his vest, pulling it on over his shirt while Brita caught the keys he tossed her so she could get the engine started.
As he slid into the passenger seat, she didn’t even wait for him to buckle up as she backed out of the space and headed for the address, lights going but running silent.
He carried his Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office windbreaker, the one with DEPUTY emblazoned on the back. “At least you can put this on.”
“If they don’t know me by now, I’m screwed anyway.”
“You’re not going in there without a vest, B.”
“We don’t know what we’re facing. It might be forensics and clean-up by the time we get there,” she grimly said. “Stop worrying.”
The old apartment complex was three up, three down, a concrete block building that looked like it was built in the forties or fifties, and in a previously run-down neighborhood which was currently undergoing gentrification that hadn’t yet reached this particular property. The three ground floor units opened to covered stoops three steps up each, and a low block wall surrounded the front, the flowerbed it held back filled with half-dead azalea shrubs struggling to maintain their grip on this earthly plane.
As they pulled up to the apartments, they saw that the middle door stood open. Brita ignored the windbreaker, jumping out, sidearm already in hand as she crouched and headed for the stoop.
They could hear the man ranting, screaming, his voice slurred and obviously intoxicated. A woman loudly sobbed, only exceeded by the sound of a young child’s cries.
At least they were still alive.
She did let Ethan take point, both of them using the stoop’s concrete columns as cover, Ethan on the right, her on the left.
“Sheriff’s Office. Come out with your hands up!”
“Imma gonna shoot this damn bitch!” the man roared. “I’m tired of her ruinin’ my life!”
“Come on out and let’s talk about it,” Ethan called back. “You shoot anyone, you can’t take that back. This is still fixable. No one’s been hurt. We can talk this out.”
Brita tried to peek around the column and see inside, but the interior was too dark with the afternoon sunlight in their eyes for her to get a good view. Plus the door opened inward, to the left, blocking that angle of view.
She ducked down and, in a crouch, descended the steps and jumped the flowerbed’s block wall to circle around the stoop and give her a better angle to possibly see inside to the right of the doorway.
She spotted a small pair of bare feet, moving, like the child was sitting against the wall close to the right side of the door.
As Ethan kept the guy talking, Brita holstered her weapon and pressed against the front wall of the building, now able to see more of the child. From the way he was crying, he either wasn’t hurt, or wasn’t mortally wounded.
She felt Ethan’s burning gaze on her as she focused on the child and edged closer to the stoop. Brita knew she was not only concealed by the apartment’s front wall, but that it was made of concrete block gave her a modicum of protection.
While the unseen woman started talking to the suspect, Brita tried to softly get the boy’s attention by making whispering noises at him. Finally, he leaned forward and saw her. She nodded, giving him a big smile and crooking her finger at him, hoping he’d toddle out the door so she could snatch him and run to cover behind their car.
Now two more marked units arrived, and she heard more sirens closing in the distance. As the man started raging again, Brita shut down everything except her focus on the little boy. Maybe two years old, if that, he looked dirty, and was dressed only in a diaper.
He turned onto his hands and knees and pushed himself up into a standing position. As he did, she boosted herself up onto the stoop, still concealed by the apartment’s front wall and to the left of the open doorway.
Her pulse pounded in her ears and time seemed to slow, every movement now coated with frozen molasses as the boy stepped into the doorway. As she heard the shot, she reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him against her body as if he were a football. She let momentum carry her across the stoop, turning her body to shield him as another shot rang out.
Fiery pain radiated through her left hip and her leg gave out. She shoved off with her right leg, taking her off the other side of the stoop as she once again turned to cushion their fall with her body.
She was aware of Ethan screaming her name, the other officers yelling, more shots as they made their entrance. The wind was knocked out of her as she missed the scraggly azalea bushes and landed on top of the low block wall ringing the flowerbed, taking the full brunt of the impact along the length of her back, just to the right of her spine.
“Please what, baby?”
“Please make me come!”
“What do I get in return?”
Tonight he was in the mood to play the guessing game. Usually, he outright told her what he wanted in exchange. Normally, she readily agreed, unless her pain levels wouldn’t let her. Then she’d come back with something close but easier for her physically to manage.
When he was playful, he drew it out, a way, he knew, to pull fantasies from her, until she hit the one he decided he liked the most.
Or she grew too damn horny and begged him to do everything to her if he’d only make her come!
“That’s a given, baby. More.” His lips returned to her clit.
“Another given. Keep going.”
She swallowed hard, barely able to breathe, much less talk, and with her wrists firmly captured in his hands, unable to pull free.
She struggled to find something they hadn’t done in a while that might convince him to get her off sooner. “Butt plug, Sir?”
“Hmm. Which one?”
Now he was just fucking with her and she knew it.
“The vibrating one, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He released her wrists and stood, spinning her around and over the edge of the bed. Yanking her panties down, his hands caressed her bare ass, squeezing again. Twenty quick, hard bare-handed swats divvied up between both ass cheeks, stinging smacks, left her dripping wet and moaning with need.
“Yes, that’s what my baby needs. Hands and knees.”
She crawled the rest of the way onto the bed and waited, head down, knowing what would come next. She heard him finish undressing, then moving around in the bathroom. He returned a moment later and one hand held her by the hair while the other squirted lube down the crack of her ass.
Another moan escaped her when the first finger started playing with her. Over the years, he’d sneakily conditioned her to get horny when he played with her ass, usually by tying her up and eating her out while he had a vibrating butt plug stuffed deep inside her.
Tonight he worked her up quickly, three fingers she was rocking in time with before they disappeared and she felt the tip of the butt plug pressing against her.
She did, moaning as it slid into place.
He stepped away and she heard him wash his hands. When he returned, she flinched when the butt plug sprang to life, all the way on the highest setting.
“On your back.”
She rolled, feeling the towel he slid under her as she did. She kept her eyes closed and raised her arms, feeling the cuffs click around them. He kept them loose enough she could move around in them.
Then he climbed on top of her and settled over her face, her mouth already open as his hard cock slid over her tongue.
They both moaned now. “Yeah, baby,” he whispered, his fingers teasing her nipples. “You know what to do with that.”
He didn’t leave her much room to move, and that’s the way he wanted it. She swallowed his cock, sucking on it, laving her tongue over his shaft, all nine beautiful inches of it. After a few minutes of that, with her also whining with need, he leaned forward and she felt his warm breath against her bare pussy.
“You know the rules. Don’t come.” His lips closed around her clit and she had to gasp for air, struggling not to disobey him.
Although there were times she was glad to take the five cane strokes just to get the first orgasm.
He never used that rule when he knew she was hurting in the bad way, but that meant when he finally did get around to fucking her, he was going to ride her hard and deep and grind that gorgeous cock of his into her pussy with everything he had.
Because he wasn’t scared of hurting her.
His sweet, slow mouth taunted and teased her. He knew every inch of the landscape down there and took great relish in making her hold back until he gave her permission. Between the butt plug undulating in her ass, and his comforting weight pressing on her body, she felt the first spinnings of subspace tugging at her brain.
She didn’t hit it every time, like this. But when she did, she knew she’d sleep well that night.
Ethan’s tongue plunged into her pussy, circling, withdrawing, fucking her with it the same way he was fucking her mouth with his cock. Trying to rock her hips against him was useless. He had her pinned down too perfectly in this position.
After an eternity, where she realized she was starting to beg around his cock, he lifted his head. “What’s the matter, baby?” he teased. “Is something wrong?”
She loudly moaned.
He rose up enough his cock pulled from her mouth. “Please make me come, Sir!”
“Did I just hear someone beg for an orgasm?”
“Yes, Sir, please!”
“Excellent. You may come.” He fucked his cock deep into her throat again and sucked on her clit. White heat exploded behind her eyes as the first earth-shattering climax spiraled through her.