Over The Limit

Read Over The Limit Online

Authors: Lacey Silks

Tags: #love, #erotic short story, #series, #short story, #couples erotica, #sex, #romance, #erotic romance, #erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: Over The Limit
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Over The
Limit

 

by Lacey Silks

 

Kobo Edition

 

Copyright 2012 © Lacey Silks

 

Kobo
License Notes

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Publisher’s Note

This book is a work
of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events,
locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are
reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the
publisher and author.

Warning: the
unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
Criminal copyright infringement, influding infringement without monetary gain,
is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a
fine of $250,000.

This book is for
sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains sexually explicit scenes which may be
considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot
be accessed by minors.

ISBN-978-0-9917772-1-1

 

A burst appendix ruined Valerie’s prom and her plans to give
her virginity to her boyfriend. Circumstances drew them apart until she’s
caught speeding. Trying to weasel out of a ticket, she uses all her charms on
the Officer before recognizing him as Mike, her prom date. As feelings from
past return, Val is cuffed by the one man she’s longed for and wanted to give
herself to. When Officer Mike surprises Val with an unexpected punishment, Val
vows to go over the limit more often.

Over The Limit is an erotic romance short story,
approximately 5800 words (250 words/page). Contains adult content and graphic
sex scenes (M/F).

 

CONTENTS

Beginning

Middle

End

About the Author

More
work by Lacey Silks

Connect
with Lacey online

 

To our men in uniform

 

***

Floodlights illuminated the dance
floor in an alternating sequence, and fake fog seeped out of a machine in each
corner of the gymnasium. Overhead, bubbles popped, breaking in colorful
patterns. Waves of blue and green shadows on the walls complemented the prom’s
undersea theme.

I held my arms around Mike’s neck: my first real boyfriend,
to whom I’d promised myself. The ring on my finger said so, and tonight was the
night. Mike had rented a hotel room across the street. For the first time, I
had no curfew, and my parents thought I was spending the night at a slumber
party. It would be perfect. The nerves inside me had tugged at my stomach all
day. I couldn’t eat and had hardly drunk anything. The pain of hunger pinched
around my bellybutton.

“Are you all right?” Mike pulled me in closer. “You look a
little flushed.”

“Just nervous,” I replied. “The dance is almost over.”

“Don’t worry, Val. I’ll take care of you.” He smiled his
innocent boyish grin that would soon become a man’s—and soon I wouldn’t be the
last virgin in high school. Though the pressure over the years had increased, I
was glad I’d waited, and Mike was patient. We’d met as juniors when he sat next
to me in math class. Our friendship had grown until our first kiss a year later,
which sealed us as a couple.

Tonight, I would transform my boyfriend to a man, and he
would make me a woman.

“Have you had anything to eat?” he asked, brushing the side
of my face with the back of his hand.

“No.” I shook my head and made a face. The thought of food
made me feel queasy.

“Come on.” Mike pulled me off the dance floor, grabbed a
plate off the dessert table, and stacked it with some fruit and cake. The tempo
picked up again on the dance floor.

We sat down at the table and he fed me a tasteless piece of melon
with a fork. I chewed it like gum.

“I don’t like it,” I mumbled.

He pressed his hand to my forehead, “You’re burning up, Val.
Are you sick?” His forehead creased, and the dark chestnut eyes I loved so much
turned almost black. Or maybe it was my inability to focus.

“I don’t think so.” I fought the nausea that hit when the melon
plummeted into my stomach.

“I think you are. Let’s go find Nurse Kelly.” He took me
under my arm and we made our way toward the entrance where most of the volunteer
chaperones hung out.

As soon as the door behind us closed muffling the music, I
bent over in pain from the clutching around my stomach. “Ouch!”

My scream drew everyone’s attention. Mike lowered me to the
red carpet and I curled in a fetal position. The pinching sensation stabbed
continuously, and I could no longer concentrate on the buzzing of people around
me.

“It hurts.”

Beyond the sound of my short breaths, the rush of people
around me hummed in my ears. Someone placed a wet cloth on my forehead.

“I know, Val, I know.” Mike smoothed my hair. “Help is on
the way.”

A few minutes later, sirens sounded in the distance. The
hall blurred behind my eyes as the room spun. Strong arms rolled me over onto a
flat surface. Once in a while I saw Mike’s face over mine, mouthing words I could
no longer hear.

The last thing I remembered saying was, “Don’t leave me,
Mike, please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he repeated. Or perhaps it was just the movement
of his lips that told me he wouldn’t.

As the paramedics whisked me away on a gurney, I didn’t
realize I wouldn’t see Mike again for over a decade.

 

Twelve years later

 

Blue and red lights flashed in my rear view mirror. My gaze
flew to the display of my Miata, which showed twenty over the limit.

“Shit! Where did he come from?” I hit the brakes.

Since when did the cops patrol the middle of nowhere? It had
been over an hour since I’d left the town limits, and I hadn’t passed another
car for almost fifteen minutes. Getting a break was not in the cards tonight. As
I raced with the hood down, all I wanted was to drown my soul in the wind
instead of in another bottle of wine chilling at home.

The music on the radio vibrated the front windshield and I
turned it down, pulling over onto the gravel shoulder. The pebbles crunched
under the wheels as I stopped. I popped a mint in my mouth. Behind me, the
cruiser’s headlights outlined the silhouette of an officer pushing through the
dust cloud toward my car.

Good. It’s a man
. I brushed my fingers through the
tangles in my hair.

He paced with confidence. I hoped it wasn’t an old geezer
that I’d have to persuade to let me weasel out of a ticket. Looking at this
cop’s body, I assumed he was young. All the old ones were fat, with beer
bellies that hung over their belts.

I pouted my lip out before applying raspberry lip gloss, and
quickly checked my makeup. Flustered, I pushed up my bra, squeezing the only
assets that had gotten me out of trouble in the past. “OK, girls, do your job.”

I rolled down the window. “Can I help you, officer?” I
shined my most innocent smile at him, but he kept his gaze on the pad of empty
ticket forms. His cap covered his eyes.

“License and registration,” he barked, as if I’d just
disturbed him from a nap.

Knowing I had to lift my behind and flash a piece of my
thigh at him, I reached over the front seat to the back and grabbed my purse.
There was no way he’d give me a ticket after I used my charm. This strategy
never failed. When I sat back in my seat, he was flipping through a notepad,
scratching something off on each page. Not even a glimpse at my exposed legs. I
searched through my bag, which resembled the inside of a piñata. Finally my
hand caught the wallet.

“Do you know how fast you were going, ma’am?” he grumbled,
chewing his gum.

Ma’am? Didn’t he see my thigh? Or my squeezed boobs?

“I’m so sorry. I’m in a rush to a funeral.” I batted my
lashes at him, but he just kept writing on his notepad and hadn’t flipped a
page in a few seconds.

Shit, he’s already writing the ticket!

“Dressed like that? At this hour?” he asked, checking his watch.

He noticed!

“License and registration,” he snarled, this time looking up
from underneath his cap. His eyes widened and brows narrowed when our gazes
locked. Something about his dark stare made me hold my breath. Chills ran down
my spine as I tried to remember if he was a cop who’d caught me speeding
before, but I was sure I’d remember those chestnut eyes. Their familiarity
turned the chills to warmth that spread through me, and his cold response
didn’t matter. He leaned in toward me and took a whiff. I held my breath and
closed my eyes.

He backed up, and I exhaled away from him.

I handed him my papers and discreetly popped another mint in
my mouth.

“Valerie White,” he murmured, studying the license again as
if he were checking to see if it were fake. The uniform suited this cop more
than others I’d seen. He owned it. His perfect, narrow hips held the belt of
power like a trophy, and the outfit looked more like a stripper’s costume than
a police officer’s.

“Yes, sir.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel,
feeling my palms sweat.

“You were speeding.” His cool tone of his voice became
warmer, and suddenly a guilty feeling for pretending I didn’t break the law
overwhelmed me. It’s not something I experience too often. In my line of work,
climbing the ladder of success while fending off the predatory eyes of my male co-workers
had thickened my skin. I was the only woman at the dealership and the top
producer. Driving away from the city was my way of escape.

“I…”

“Don’t give me a funeral story. Be honest, Valerie.” Officer
Grumpy jumped in before I got a chance to defend myself.

My hands slid down to my knees and my shoulders lowered. I
slouched in the seat, wondering what had happened to the “ma’am.” If I opened
my smart mouth back at him, I could end up spending the night in jail. All he
had to do was ask me to take a breathalyser and I’d be done.

“I was blowing off some steam. I’m sorry. My boyfriend just
broke up with me and—and—” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks, and I began to
sob. Cries of defeat often helped. Men couldn’t stand women crying and usually
left them to their tears.

“Have you been drinking, miss?” He leaned in again.

“I had a glass of wine, that’s all.”

“Step out of the vehicle, please.” Officer Persistent pulled
on the door handle and backed up.

“Really, I’m fine. It was an hour ago.” I batted my wet
lashes at him again, trying to compose myself to look like the businesswoman
that I was during the day. But tonight, I was sure my hooker-worthy ensemble
and running mascara didn’t do justice to the persuasion my eyes were capable
of.

“Step out of the vehicle ,Val.” His frosty tone became
warmer each time he spoke, and his voice was hitting a nerve inside me I
couldn’t quite understand.

Val? What, we’re on first name basis now, Officer Rude? I
hope you choke on that gum!

Only one person in my life had called me that – everyone else
knew I went by my full name – but he lived on the other side of the country, was
probably on his way to becoming a movie star. I lowered my skirt, lifted my
feet over the threshold, and stepped out. The gravel hurt my soles.

“You’re barefoot?” he asked, readjusting his cap.

Officer Kind stepped back, his face hidden in the dark
shadows of the night. His shoulders stretched outward in the fitted uniform
that narrowed at his waist and hips. My mouth watered, and I wondered whether
that was the effect of the wine in my bloodstream. As I admired his body from
the top down, my gaze rested on his belt buckle again and the faint outline of
his package below. My inner needs began to concentrate inside my panties.

“No shoes?” He focused on the ground where my toes wiggled
over the pebbles. In truth, they wiggled because of the effect this man had on
me, and I couldn’t figure out the reason. Warmth spread through me as the last
glass of wine I’d had half an hour ago began to kick in.

“It’s easier driving than in six inch heels.” I strained to
maintain my composure, discouraged I’d get a ticket. The alcohol wasn’t helping
to subdue my emotions. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

“Please don’t cry.” He helped me over the gravel and onto
the street split with a white marker in the middle. Beyond us, darkness
swallowed the road in both directions. “Can you walk a straight line for me?”

Did I sense a change in his tone? I thought I heard
compassion. Perhaps there was hope. I shook my head sideways, keeping my eyes
on the pavement. There was no reason to pretend I was capable of walking – or
driving. That was a bad idea.

“How many glasses of wine did you really have, Val?” Officer
Polite asked. The care in his voice suited him better. It struck a chord inside
my belly, then tingled down to my lower half.

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