I looked sideways at the front door. If I was going to leave, then I had to do it now. I knew that if I stayed, there was no going back. I would’ve crossed a line which I might never come back from. With Michael’s hands now between my legs and just wanting him, I closed my eyes on the door and on all of my reasoning.
Chapter Three
I lay on my back across the table. Michael ran the palms of his hands over my breasts, his fingers playing with the nipples. I moaned, as he lent over me letting the tip of his tongue flicker over the hollow of my belly button.
He moved lower still, and taking his hands from my breasts, he started to work my trousers down and over my thighs. I reached out, clawing my nails over his shoulders like a set of rakes. He groaned and pulled my trousers free. Michael climbed up onto the table, slowly pushing my legs apart with one knee. I buried my face into his bare shoulder, nipping at his flesh with my teeth. With one finger, he hooked aside my panties and let his fingers work slowly through the fine knot of hair between my legs.
I shuddered against him, arching my back off the table, as his fingers began to slowly, gently stroke me.
“Is this wrong, officer?” he whispered, glancing up at me from between my thighs.
“Very,” I gasped, as his fingers quickened.
With his free hand, I watched him fumble his jeans open and let them drop to the floor. His cock stood almost upright from the middle of his body.
It was then that the dog started to howl.
Leaning back, I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sound of the dog. The noise of its barking, bringing me back to the sudden, unwelcome realisation that I was a cop who was still on duty.
I screwed my eyes shut as Michael’s strokes grew faster and faster, as did my growing excitement.
“Do you want me to fuck you, officer?” Michael teased.
Beginning to feel more anxious than turned on, the knowledge of where I was, what I was doing, and everything I was risking, made me freeze up and turn cold. It suddenly all felt so wrong. But wasn’t that the whole point? Wasn’t the fact that everything I was doing was so forbidden the reason I was so aroused in the first place?
Yap-yap-yap! The dog howled.
I tried to block out the sound of the dog by concentrating on what Michael was doing to me.
“So, are you gonna punish me, or what?” he whispered, reaching down and taking a condom from his jeans.
“Stop,” I gasped. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Michael glanced at me. “Is this part of the game?”
“There is no game,” I said, pushing myself up onto my elbows and closing the front of my shirt.
“You are kidding me, right?” he asked, sounding unsure as if I were messing with him.
“No, I’m not kidding,” I said, sliding from the table and snatching up my trousers. As I tugged them back over my legs, all I could see in my head was my father’s disapproving glare. “This should never have happened,” I told Michael.
“So you’re not going to arrest me?” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he still thought all of this was some part of the fantasy we had been acting out.
“I don’t think so, do you?” I said back. “I’ve got to go.”
Realising the game was over; he hurriedly pulled up his own jeans. “Perhaps we could do this again sometime – you know, when you’re not on duty?” he asked.
“I doubt you would find it as much fun,” I said, tightening my utility belt about my waist.
“I guess not,” he said thoughtfully.
I looked back at him as I fixed my police radio to my belt. Before I could say anything back, my radio made a hissing and then a crackling sound. I snatched it from my belt and held it close to the side of my face.
“Zulu-Control to Romeo-Three...” the voice of the operator in the control room came over the radio, then cut off.
“What’s that...” Michael started.
“Shhh!” I scolded him. “My control room is trying to get hold of me.”
“Zulu-Control to Romeo-Three nothing heard from Romeo-One...” the radio operator cut in then died away again.
“Shit!” I barked, heading for the door.
“What’s the problem?” Michael called after me.
“They’ve been trying to raise me on the radio but because there’s no bloody signal out here, they think I’ve had an accident or something,” I explained. “I need to get into an area where I can contact them before they send out the search party – if they haven’t already.”
Reaching the kitchen door, I remembered I’d put in the office diary that I was out taking statements all afternoon. I only had one outstanding crime in my tray at the moment, and that was this so-called burglary at the farm. It wouldn’t take my father – Sergeant Hart – too long to figure out where I was and come in search for me – if he hadn’t already.