Chapter 2

I got rid of those guys around two in the morning. Because of their extreme loudness, I expected a call from security. The combination of booze and pussy made them obnoxious. Fortunately, they piped down and left.

I threw the sheets over myself and lost consciousness. Sleep, at that point, became essential. I badly needed to rest my weary bones. Taking on two men in the sack wore me out.

An incessant rapping woke me. My head throbbed. If I didn't get enough sleep, it threw off my whole day.

"Go away!" I hissed, huddling under the sheet. The sun began to pierce the edge of the thick drapes. Morning appeared to have raised its ugly head.

The knocking unmercifully continued.

Some eager-beaver staff member was about to receive a tongue-lashing supreme. That person's audacity amazed me. The "Do Not

Disturb" sign was apparently worthless.

Summoning strength from my reserves, I flung back the covers and pulled on my robe. As I stomped off, I prepared a fiery delivery for my unwanted caller. Whoever had the balls to bother me was in for holy hell.

"Exactly what is the meaning of this?" I snarled, throwing back the door. Immediately, I let out a gasp.

Oh, my God! It was my brother-in-law, Mike.

He regarded me with utter distaste. Mike made his repugnance of me known. "Get dressed, Pamela. You're checking out."

It took a moment to regain my composure. My temper returned, red-hot. "Who are you to order me around? This is hardly your jurisdiction."

Mike's arrogance was his trademark. Un-like Tom, who customarily employed a civil tone, Mike was a virulent force. A cop by profession, he brooked no nonsense. He addressed me with a scowl. "That snottiness might have some application with my brother, but not me." He barged into my room without an overture from me. Jabbing a thumb at the closet, he barked his instructions. "Gather your things, on the double. I'm parked in back. I want to hit the road before traffic starts."

"I'll do no such thing, you bastard. You can't order me around like a common thug."

He seized my wrist and dragged me to within an inch of his face. "You'll do exactly as you're told."

I peered into his coffee-colored eyes. The strength of his grip aroused me. Mike never struck me as overpowering, but did then. I viewed his rugged features, framed by dark brown hair, in a new light. Because of his police background, he was required to keep himself in top physical condition. His muscular physique was attributable to it.

I softened my tone. "How in the world did you find me?"

"One needn't be a rocket scientist. The frequent credit charges illuminated your tracks. Having access to the police computer network helped."

"Did Tom request that you look for me."

"I did it on my own. He's been missing for a week."

My lips curved. "Perhaps he's shacked up with one of his babes. Your brother enjoyed playing the field throughout our marriage-totally indiscreet. He never bothered dusting off his fingerprints. As far as I'm concerned, it's a matter of public record."

Mike did not share my humor. His face darkened. "You made a sizeable withdrawal from your joint account."

I giggled. "He told you that, too? The sum we accumulated pleasantly surprised me. Tom had the financial brains in the family." Mike seemed immune to my little barb. I rarely overlooked an opportunity to slight him. His Neanderthal attitude pissed me off. "He must have taken a gamble on a winner."

"You must return it."

"I'll do no such thing. Half that money is mine."

His gruff tone abided no sympathy. "I'm not going to waste time with explanations, nor will I play games. I'm due back in Chicago, post haste. I intend to get to the bottom of this mess."

"Mess?" I echoed, thrown by his use of the word.

"He called me shortly before his disappearance. He sounded beside himself. You removed funds that were on temporary deposit."

I blinked. Mike alluded to something dreadful. "Didn't that money belong to us?"

"You created a tremendous problem for him. That money needs to be promptly replaced."

"Are you suggesting Tom was involved in some criminal activity?"

"I haven't entirely figured it out, but will, with your help."

I secured a hand to my hip. My resentment of Mike's intrusion returned. "If you think I'll voluntarily cooperate, you're insane. Tom's vanishing act makes no difference to me. His countless departures in the past were non-events. He never accounted for his absences. Perhaps you can understand my decision to bail out."

Mike's patience with me soon expired. He reinstated his gruff tone. "You're a selfish individual, Pamela. No other life has meaning, does it?"

My robe began to open, revealing a sumptuous portion of cleavage. Suppressing a smile, I was eager for some experimentation. I gestured to the nipple which extended from the folds of my garment. That luscious pink point sought his acknowledgment.

Mike declined its invitation. Animosity had existed between my brother-in-law and me since the day Tom announced our engagement. Mike believed I was a budding opportunist, solely after his brother's bank account and professional status. His aloofness accurately reflected his opinion.

Mike's tone disallowed negotiation. "As I mentioned earlier," he glacially stated, "put some clothes on so we can leave."

I could have exercised more resistance, or simply quibbled with him, but after spending the night with two well-equipped studs, I developed an unusual brazenness. I attributed my loose behavior to that unleashed wildness. Without moving a fraction, my robe separated. Both tits spilled out, lively bouncing. I expected my brother-in-law to pop a boner, or at the very least, become flustered. Instead, he stared coldly at my face. He adamantly protested gazing at my distinguished assets.

My ego languished in his presence. Men typically enjoyed looking at me. Mike vehemently combated the urge. I found his restraint seductive.

"We're wasting valuable traveling time," he crustily reminded.

I weighed my options. I could have flatly refused to have him usher me home. Nothing illegal had been committed on my part. The temptation to defy him prevailed, yet the spark of that curious attraction overruled my decision. "All right," I said, astounding even myself, "I'll be a moment."

Mike made arrangements to have my car independently returned to Chicago. He didn't trust my trailing him, nor did he wish the hassle of following me. Mike turned a deaf ear to my protestations about abandoning my vehicle. Driving with him was obligatory.

I took a quick shower, using strawberry-scented soap. Not only did I wash away all traces of my uninhibited night, but accentuated my desirability. The cosmetics I applied afterward were designed to enhance my magnetism.

On the road, I closely studied Mike. His virile profile drew me. His Slavic features afforded him a rich sensuality. In the eight years I was with Tom, I discounted any hint of an attraction. As a cop, Mike symbolized a world in which brutality and danger were salient components. I preferred the luxury and security accorded by Tom. The brothers clearly had little in common.

Mike's charisma was indisputable. At thirty-eight, he had ripened into a delicious man. Why I hadn't previously seen it remained a mystery. My initial dislike of him, prompted by his rejection, must have taken precedence. In any event, I detected genuine stirrings of lust.

I inspected those powerful hands-one calmly resting on the wheel, the other on the seat. Recalling their might, I involuntarily shivered. Those steel-like fingers commanded , my respect and signaled my longing.

Mike wore a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled back. His brawny forearms were rough with hair. Tufts of dark hair curled from his undone collar. Tight blue jeans emphasized the sinew of his trim thighs. Glancing at his crotch bred whimsical fantasies. His equipment's outline, even in its flaccid state, had my imagination working overtime.

For our journey homeward, I donned an enticing outfit. I purposely left my tight blouse with a plunging neckline half-unbuttoned so that my tits threatened to spill out. My shorts were of an indecent height, stressing my slender legs and emphasizing my mound. High heels completed my tantalizing guise.

I wondered if Mike perceived my horny vibrations. Such ardor was foreign to me. Perhaps it was my unconscious feedback to male authority. Since Tom demanded little of me, I had grown accustomed to taking charge. Mike's turbulence evidenced a secret thrill.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked while the wind whipped through my hair.

"What does it matter?"

"Getting laid regularly might take off the edge. It would probably improve your disposition."

"My sex life is none of your concern."

I smirked. "It suddenly occurred to me that you never married. Why?"

His eyes never left the road. He pushed the speed limit to its legal boundaries. "Some cops don't."

"Perhaps you don't like women."

He said nothing to disprove my theory.

"Did I touch a nerve?" I teased.

Mike stretched his lean body, then relaxed.

He appeared immune to my razzing. During the course of many arrests, he must have endured the taunts of many sexy women. He presumably mastered tuning out such offenders.

My examination of him drove my erotic curiosity. That manly profile, filled with purpose, turned me on. I saw my brother-in-law in an exciting new light, and wanted those obscure aspects clarified.

My tactics underwent revision. Verbally, Mike was unmanipulable. If words failed to melt his frozen exterior, then actions were-likely the key. I yearned to explore the extent of his scruples.

"Perhaps the reason behind your evasion of marriage was not finding the right woman," I said, adapting a willowy tone. My hand drifted to my crotch. "Only a specific kind of woman can please a cop."

"What makes you an expert?" he asked without glancing in my direction.

My exhibitionist tendencies gradually surfaced. My legs spread apart. "I understand men. I've analyzed them for years and rendered conclusions." I unsnapped the button of my shorts. The sound of my zipper alerted him. "Anticipating their needs has been my metier."

Mike's grip on the wheel faltered. His set jaw implied a determination to ignore me. His eyes did not stray from the lane ahead.

"Be truthful with me," I said, sifting through my silken pubes. "You may have despised me, but always regarded me bewitching. Admit it."

He denied me the satisfaction of a response.

I divided my cunt lips with a finger. Moisture oozed from my hungry center. The walls of my pussy ached to caress a real man. I wanted him to be Mike. "Aside from your dislike of me, haven't you wondered what it would be like?"

Mike offered no indication, positive or negative.

I lowered my digit into my snatch, pretending it belonged to him. "Please be honest. I know you've had fantasies. Even when you projected disdain, I suspected your yearning. A man can't hide that from a woman. She recognizes when she's wanted."

My high heels dug into his floor mats. I sawed through my wet, clinging pussy. It sucked my finger straight to the knuckle. In shifting through squishy layers, I produced stimulating wet sounds. Those damp folds noisily puckered at my rhythmic probe.

After several seconds of casual exploration, I concentrated on my clit. A gentle moan rose from my throat. I couldn't help voicing my pleasure, even when aggravating Mike. In my mind, I pretended his tongue darted at me. I associated that palatable swirl to his adroit tip, attempting to quench my thirst.

The juice trickled down my finger. I fondled myself to Mike's complete distraction. It felt good, caressing my privates. Despite the venting the windows afforded, the scent of cunt permeated the car. I lavishly stroked that juicy patch framed by hair. The fluctuation of texture and ensuing rush was delightful.

"Cut it out," Mike barked through clenched teeth.

"What's the matter, baby?" I teased, flicking my love button. "Can't stand the heat?"

Battling the impulse to stare, he remained observant of the oncoming traffic. "Have you forgotten that we're on a public highway?"

I gave his objections short shrift. I willed him to look at me. My shorts were unfastened and blonde fur protruded. My pussy was quite visible. To increase his frustration, I showed him my tits. They leaped from my blouse after releasing two crucial buttons. My nipples bulged at him, fiercely swollen. I couldn't describe what afflicted me, other than to call it acute horniness.

"Why don't you pull over?" I said, delving into my snatch. "I'd rather have you inside me than my finger."

He squirmed in his seat. "You're going too far, Pamela. In fact, you've crossed the line."

His discomfiture suited me. Stripped of his cockiness, he was mine to control. I intended to crumble his defense system. Mike was usually nonchalant. He registered few emotions.

"Yes," I murmured, massaging my clit. "I want us to go all the way."

"Must I remind you that you are still married to my brother?"

"He doesn't have to know a thing. I won't tell." I brushed his thigh. "What's the problem? Can't keep a secret? Hmmmm?"

Mike nearly jumped out of his skin. The same finger that went into my cunt tapped him. "Don't," he growled, seizing the wheel with both hands. Clearly, the idle one might have grabbed my ass.

Mike unconsciously pushed the accelerator to the floor. We hurtled down the road at a higher speed. I purred from the increased adrenaline.

I slipped out of one high heel. "You're so easy to read, Mike," I jeered, reaching for him with my toes. "You want me."

He gritted his teeth when I met his thigh. His crotch was achievable. Conscious of our velocity and disinclined to cause an accident, I took care in tickling him. He shuddered beneath my mischievous nuzzle.

"Let's have some fun, Mike. Come on, baby. You could really use some pussy. Park on the shoulder and fuck my brains out."

Mike refuted my advances. He eased up on the gas and merely coasted. He wanted nothing to do with my toes or solicitation. Side glances were avoided at all cost. Hightailing it to Chicago was obviously his top priority.

Nonetheless, I worked myself into a frenzy. My clit throbbed from the commotion. I fingered that pulsing button until tingling wooziness resulted. Mike's rugged features facilitated my orgasm. I submerged old hostilities in favor of achieving total gratification.

I wanted him in that hot, itchy part of me-whether it be his tongue or cock. The very notion of feeling Mike move through my pussy hastened my orgasm. My thighs recurrently bumped him. I vibrated against his solid frame. My finger, acting of its own volition, went until my vision blurred. My clit pulsed madly beneath my revolving digit. I stared at him throughout that wonderful shaking. I wanted him to realize that his presence ran riot with my hormones.

Mike made no additional attempts to avoid me. His thigh remained firmly stationed, even during my taunting bumps. Whether I jolted his resolution was unfathomable.

Juicy cunt pitched beneath my finger. My horniness took liquid form, seeping from my bubbling depths. I held my gape of Mike as the contractions gained purchase of me. Arching my spine, I permitted their assault.

"Ohhhh," I moaned, nearing my peak. "I'm going to cum. Yes. I'm going to cum."

Mike remained speechless while I spasmed. I thrashed in my seat, breaking into a sweat. The wind whisked across my erect nipples. My fingertips pressed into my sopping cunt flesh. I exhaled harshly, ridding my lungs of stagnant air. The charge was exhilarating.

My foot receded from him. I slumped into the upholstery, striving to reclaim my wits. Toward the end, I clutched his thigh. My sticky fingers smeared his jeans. I still shuddered with orgasm during those moments of slimy contact. I noted no tremors on his behalf. He appeared to handle my lasting vibrations. After several heartbeats, he nabbed my wrist and slowly removed it.

"Button up," Mike hoarsely commanded.

My convulsion had exacted its toll on him. The steering wheel had grown moist beneath his clutching hands. His eyes glistened and his lips thinned.

I smiled. The day was young.