Smashwords version Sweet Surrender (11 page)

Instead she turned back to Officer Renault.
“So? Why does this psycho have his sights set on us?”

“It’s kind of a pathetic story. According to
his police records, his mother was a prostitute and she had syphilis when she
gave birth to him, so he was born with brain damage. He went back and forth
between living with her in the same motel room where she brought her customers,
and living in foster families, and he finally got adopted by an holy roller
pastor and his wife. He slashed the wife’s face when he was a teenager, and
went to juvie for it, and they washed their hands of him. He’s been in and out
of the system ever since.”

“So you’ve arrested him, right? Oh, no. You
haven’t, have you?”

Poppy saw from the look on his face that she
wasn’t going to like his answer.

“Like I said, we have mostly good news. We
can put these flyers up all over the neighborhood, all our patrol officers will
know to look out for him. But he’s homeless and unemployed; it makes him harder
to track down.”

He saw the look on her face. “We’ll find
him!”

Poppy nodded unhappily, while Viola grabbed a
handful of flyers from him and went out to staple them on to telephone poles
and hand them out to the other store owners up and down the street.

That afternoon, Rafe sent Poppy a text. “I’m
back! Miss me?”

Her heart leaped in her chest, and an idea
dawned on her. 

And she quickly texted him back an answer,
and just as quickly wished she could take it back.

Had she just made a terrible mistake?

Poppy stood in the living room/bedroom, knees
quaking with fear.  Was she setting herself up for the most embarrassing
rejection ever?

She’d texted Rafe to come meet her at
Penelope’s apartment at 7 p.m. After work she’d showered and dabbed on rose
scented perfume behind her ears.

She’d closed the shutters and pulled the
blinds, and stood in darkness only broken by the tiny pools of light spread by
a dozen votive candles she’d scattered around the room.

She’d done it partly because she thought the
low light would be sexy, and partly because she was really, really nervous
about what she was wearing.

She’d bought the sheer baby doll negligee
that Rafe had admired downstairs, and was wearing it, and nothing else. It
cupped her full, large breasts and lifted them, and then flowed outwards in
rippling waves of black gauze, trimmed with frothy lace. She fought the urge to
cross her arms in front of her body in a desperate attempt to hide.

Rafe rapped on the door, and, voice
trembling, she called out “It’s open!” And then the door swung open, and he
stepped inside, staring at her, speechless.

“Poppy,” he finally choked out. “My God.”

And he slammed the door shut behind him and
locked it.

He was on her before she even had time to
answer, pushing her on to the bed, his clothes still on. She could feel the
long, hard bulge of his erection against her thigh, and his hot breath in her
ear, and she knew she’d made the right choice.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I
was gone,” he groaned. “And you have to invite me up here when you look like
this? I’ll be lucky if I get my pants off before I come.”

“Oh really?” she breathed. “Maybe I can help
you with that. Kneel for me.”

This was so unlike her; she was normally shy
and nervous in bed, hiding under the covers. With him, she was a wanton
seductress.

He knelt on the bed, unbuckling his belt, and
she grabbed at his jeans, yanking them down and exposing his thick, glorious
phallus.

On the night stand was a jar of Raspberry
Ecstasy body butter that she’d purchased from the store. She reached over and
opened it, dipped a finger in, and ran it gently along the length of his shaft,
smearing a sweet, raspberry chocolate trail, wrenching a gasp from him. The
smell of raspberries and chocolate mixed with the musky smell of his
excitement.

She scooped up another dollop and slowly
spread it on the head of his cock with two fingers, and he groaned, teeth
clenched.

“You’re killing me, Poppy – oh God,” he
gasped as she ran his tongue along his cock, lapping up the sweet chocolate.
She sucked and licked it until she’d cleaned every last drop with her tongue,
and then she took the head of his cock in her mouth and ran her tongue across
it,  and the salty taste of his precum mixed with the sweet chocolate.

His fingers tangled in her hair and
tightened, holding her head in place as he thrust deeper into her mouth. She
opened her mouth wider to accept him, and he slid into her throat and began
pumping hard.

His obvious hunger for her aroused her more
than anything she’d ever experienced before. Her nipples swelled with desire,
and she longed for his mouth on them, wanted to feel his strong hands sliding
over her skin…

“Oh God…yes…I’m going to come, baby…”  And he
exploded in her mouth, a gush of sweet and salty come filling her up, and she
sucked hard, swallowing every drop, as he shuddered, hands clenching her
tightly.

Then he released her and she sat up, and he
cupped her face with his hands, his eyes glazed with desire. “My turn to give
the orders,” he rasped harshly. “Lie down. Now.”

With a soft moan of surrender she lay down on
the bed and he pushed the lacy hem of her negligee up, and his strong hands
slid between her thighs and spread them open wide, exposing her soft mound and
her neatly trimmed blond curls.

Then he reached for the jar of body butter,
dipped his fingers in, and with his free hand, spread open the dewy rose petals
of her sex, and smeared the body butter on them.

The feeling of his fingers on her labia was
ecstasy.

She grabbed his broad, strong shoulders,
fingers sinking in, as he ran his tongue along her lips and slowly lapped up
the body butter. He sucked at her, harder now, nipping gently, tongue sliding
between her lips and circling, and heat flushed through her entire body.

Then his hot, hungry mouth closed over the
swollen bud of her clitoris, and she wailed in desperate need as he sucked
hard. “Fingers,” she gasped. “Inside me. Oh, yes.”

He slid his two fingers inside her, stroking
the velvety wall of her vagina until he found that spot, the excruciatingly
pleasurable spot on the inner wall, and she cried out wordlessly as he stroked
it.

His tongue and fingers played her like a
master conductor, caressing, sucking, strumming her like a violin.

The heat rose in her until she thought she’d
burst into flames, and she squirmed under the sweet torment of his mouth and
hands until finally she exploded, sweet release shuddering through her body. He
kept suckling and probing her until the last waves of orgasm had washed over
her, and then he sat up, grinning devilishly and running his tongue over his
lips.

“Delicious,” he smiled. Then he quickly
stripped off his shirt, jeans, shoes and socks, and he was naked before her,
his muscular body so perfect it took her breath away.

“Rafe?” she said in a small voice, drinking
him in.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why…why do you like me? Why not a skinny
woman?”

He smiled and ran his hand over her breast and
then cupped it, thumb running over her nipple. “I like your body because it’s
soft and warm and womanly, and I don’t like banging up against a bony skeleton.
I like your personality because you’re sweet and kind and loyal and smart and
funny.” He pinched her nipple gently between thumb and forefinger, and she
moaned.

“And I love having sex with you because
you’re so responsive, and I love how excited you get. I love knowing it’s all
for me. I love that I can make you come so hard.”

He slid on top of her, hard muscle against
her soft, warm, flesh, eyes shining, and he moved until his hard cock was
perfectly nestled in between her slick, wet lips.

Then he grabbed her hands and pinned them
above her head, and dipped his head into the curve of her neck, nipping and
licking at the sensitive flesh there.

“Oh, my God. I want you inside me,” she
begged.

“Like this?” He thrust hard, forcing himself
into her tight channel.

“Just like that,” she gasped.

His hands tightened on hers, and she lay
beneath them, trapped, completely at his mercy. His weight pinned her down to
the bed, and every nerve in her body was on fire as he slid across her,
thrusting in deeper and then moving his hips, pistoning into her, claiming her
as his with every thrust.

His breath rasped out in a harsh, uneven
rhythm, and sweat trickled down his perfect forehead as he stared down at her. 
He looked at her as if she were a beautiful work of art, to be marveled at and
worshipped. As if he wanted to drink in every detail of her flushed face, her sweat-dampened
curls, her reddened, parted lips.

She could feel her heart swelling inside her,
and also fear, throbbing in her chest, and aching inside her. 

He thrust and thrust, deep inside her very
core, and a tiny hot blossom of pleasure bloomed inside her pelvis, and swelled
until it was almost painful, and then the heat exploded into a thousand
shooting stars that burned and sizzled inside her.

Rafe cried out as he felt the rippling
muscles of her orgasm squeezing him, and he joined her in orgasm, and his harsh
gasps were like music to her because she knew it was all for her. 

This could never last, but right here, right
now, she was the center of his universe, she was the source of his unbearable
pleasure.  She pressed her face into his warm, sweaty shoulder and breathed in
his musky masculine scent and blinked back tears of pleasure and anticipated
pain.

“Go, for God’s sake! I don’t need a
babysitter.”  Jeffrey hadn’t come to help out at Sweet Surrender because he had
a client meeting, and Viola was uncharacteristically cranky. For the first
time, Poppy wondered if Rafe might be right about the two of them. Could it be
that Viola actually enjoyed the exchange of verbal sniper fire between herself
and Jeffrey all day long?

She needed to deposit the store’s receipts in
the bank, and Rafe insisted on going with her, but she was nervous about
leaving Viola working in the front of the bakery by herself.

“Lock the door until we get back,” Rafe told
her sternly.

“Promise me,” Poppy added. “Look me in the
eye and promise me you will lock the door until we get back.”

“Oh, for the love of Beelzebub, fine. 
Scout’s honor. I promise,” Viola waved them out of the store.

“She wasn’t actually a girl scout, you know.
So I’m not sure if that promise was legally binding,” Poppy worried as they
headed down the street.

“The bakers are in the back. She should be
okay,” Rafe said, although he didn’t look completely convinced.

Half an hour later, as Rafe backed into his parking space, Poppy
caught sight of the front of Sweet Surrender, and gasped in horror.

The words “Die Whore Die!” were spray painted
in red on the outside of the store.

And the front door was unlocked, and the
store was empty.

“Viola?” Poppy cried in a panic, rushing inside. She heard a sound
coming from down the office.

Oh, God, she should never have left Viola alone.

Before Rafe could stop her, she grabbed a fire extinquisher  from
the wall and raced over to the office, shouting her friend’s name, while Rafe
raced after, yelling “Stop! Poppy, get back here!”

She could hear muffled groans coming from her office.  Viola
was being murdered – and it was all her fault!

Frantic, she kicked the door open, fire extinguisher pointed like
a gun…to see Jeffrey and Viola, butt naked and writhing in an anatomically
impossible position on her desk. Rafe ran up right behind her, bumping into her
so hard she staggered into the room, and Jeffrey and Viola quickly sprang
apart.

“Hey!” Viola yelled indignantly. “A little privacy here?”

“Jeffrey! Your fiancée!”  Poppy gasped.

“She dumped me this morning!  Have you ever heard of knocking?”
Jeffrey grabbed a file folder to cover his crotch.

Poppy made a quick mental note: Burn accounts
receivable folder at earliest opportunity.

She turned her attention to Viola, who was glaring at her and not
bothering to hide her nudity.  “Viola? Your boyfriend?”

“Oh, fuck him. Let him find another ATM. Now could you please get
the hell out? I was right in the middle of an orgasm!”

Rafe and Poppy backed out of the office.  Poppy slammed the door
behind her and swung around to stare at Rafe, her jaw hanging open.  He
was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“That was classic,” he gasped, between chortles.

“You do not get to say I told you so,” Poppy hissed. “Good God. My
eyes. I want to bleach my brain. What the hell was Jeffrey doing with that
chocolate pop? That wasn’t hygienic! And what if Viola’s leg got stuck that
way? And damn it, how am I ever going to sit at that desk again, after the way
they…violated it?”