I leaned my head back against the headrest and, opening the window as wide as it would go, let the warm evening breeze blow through my hair as the steady drone of the engine filled my ears. This stretch of road was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that I'd only seen two cars in the last hour, none in the last 20 minutes. I rounded a gentle curve and saw the road straighten out invitingly before me. After five hours in the car, the first half spent weaving my way through dense city traffic, the urge to speed was too much. Pressing my foot to the floor, I gave my sleek red Mustang the go-ahead, and we flew down that road, trees whipping by at a blinding pace. I laughed out loud at the rush of wind surrounding me, the freedom of being in the middle of nowhere, hindered by no one.
The combination of speed, wind, isolation all worked together to fill me with contentment. I felt free, and it had been so long since I'd felt that. I felt like a different person. I laughed out loud again in sheer delight, feeling the rush of pleasure course through me.
Distracted as I was, it took me a few seconds to notice a new sound intruding on my moment. It took me another few seconds to realize what it was. And when I did, I groaned out loud in frustration and slumped into my seat. A police car was coming up quickly behind me, siren blaring, red and blue lights blazing. It just figured. No cars in any direction for ages and ages, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, a policeman to kill my buzz.
I eased up on the gas and slowed to a stop, cursing under my breath. Of all the ways to end the drive. The joy of the last couple of minutes eroded as I sat there fuming, waiting for the cop to approach my window.
He was taking his time. Probably putting my info into the computer or something. I blew my bangs out of my eyes and pulled my skirt up higher on my legs, coaxing a bit more of the breeze to cool my skin. My bare arms in my thin tank top were damp with a sheen of sweat and as I waited I reached back and lifted my long hair off my neck. I missed the wind, and hoped the cop wouldn't take too long with this.
"Evening, ma'am." The voice beside me caused me to jump. I hadn't seen him walking up, and my heart thudded with the surprise.
I dropped my arms quickly, and glanced up. "Evening," I responded half-heartedly, and then paused, the rest of my response dying in my throat. The eyes staring down at me were deep and blue, and weren't filled with the bored indifference I'd come to expect from law enforcement. Instead, they gazed appreciatively over my bare skin, lingering on the dampness of my tight tanktop.
I flushed at his look, and his eyes made their way back to mine. There was a slight grin on his face and for a moment we just stared at each other. I could feel my heart pounding again, and this time it had nothing to do with frustration.
Then he casually shifted his stance. "Licence and registration, please," he said, his voice deep and husky.
It took me a moment to process his words, and then I turned and fumbled in my handbag for my wallet. Having found that, I thrust it at him, then turned and dug through the glove box until my fingers touched on the registration papers for the car. I turned to hand that to him as well, then stopped. He had my wallet open and was looking through it, piece by piece, checking out the pictures and receipts and other random things I'd stuffed in there. That wasn't very cop-like.
"Um..." I began, but then he looked up at me with that smile again.
"Melissa Saxon? That's you?" At my nod, he looked down again. "Good picture of you," he waved the driver's licence. "Are you a Mel? Melly? Lissy?"
I couldn't help frowning in confusion, but I answered, "Mel, definitely." I waited for another few seconds while he looked at my things, and then cleared my throat. "Um, are you going to give me a ticket?"
For a minute he didn't answer, then glanced down at me. He still didn't answer, but I watched his eyes darken as they roamed over me again, and I trembled at what I saw in them.
"I haven't decided yet," he told me.
"Sorry, what?" I stammered, having already forgotten my question.
"I haven't decided whether or not to give you a ticket," he explained, and leaned closer to me, his arm resting on the edge of the window. I could smell his cologne, something woodsy and male, and I could see the way the muscles in his arms pressed against the cloth of his uniform.
Unexpectedly, I felt a tingle of desire flutter deep in my stomach, and I flushed again.
I'm sure he saw it, because his smile widened briefly. Then he reached out and took the registration papers I was still feebly waving at him. He glanced at them cursorily, then handed them back. "Looks fine," he said, as his hand touched mine for a split second. "Just fine."
I knew that from where he was standing, he could clearly see the way my breath was starting to quicken. He could probably hear it, too. I couldn't explain it to myself, why my body was so instantly attracted to this stranger, but it was. Oh God, it was. And it wanted me to do something I'd never done before, not with a stranger. Certainly not in the middle of nowhere.
I shook my head. What a stupid idea. You didn't just go around jumping every hot guy you see.
At least, that's what I was trying to convince myself, when he reached in and passed me back my wallet. He casually brushed his hand across my shoulder and down my arm, before placing it in my hand. I couldn't move, so I just stared at my hand and watched it tremble again.
"You wondered about a ticket," I heard his voice close to my ear. I still couldn't move, so I just sat there, frozen, listening. "Well, I'd say that's up to you."
The flutter I'd felt in my belly before became more of a rush, and I took a quick breath. When I moved, I felt like I was in slow motion. I lifted my face, then lifted my lashes, and finally looked into his eyes. There was no laughter in them now, but pure desire. His eyes raked over my body again, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted. Instinctively I glanced back along the road I'd come, past where his lights still flashed, then forward, down the long straight road.
He chuckled as he read my mind. "It's a possibility," he allowed. "Are you willing to take the risk?"
I looked into his eyes again, then let my own travel over his body this time. Tight muscles, lean hips, a glimpse of tanned chest where his uniform buttoned...and the heady scent of him, the sound of his breathing getting heavier in time with mine.
I nodded, blushing.
He moved back a step. "Then I'll have to ask you to step out of the car, ma'am," he said brusquely.
I hesitated at his tone, and then complied. He held the door for me, then slammed it shut as I stepped out. In an instant his hands were against my arms, pressing me into the side of the car. He ran his hands up and down my arms, roughly, then down my hips, the outside of my thighs.
I tried to pull back. "What are you...?"
His hands made their way back to my shoulders, still pressing me against the car. "Just patting you down," he informed me, and his little grin calmed my fears. Not my skin, though. Wherever he'd touched felt singed, electrified, and a fresh surge of need coursed through my blood, loosening my tense muscles, weakening my legs.
He sensed it. Spinning me around, he pressed me again to the side of the car, chest first. This time when his hands stroked over my body, they were slower, more intense. "I have to make sure you're not smuggling anything," he whispered in my ear. He moved one of his legs between mine, forcing my thighs apart. His hands moved from my shoulders, down my back, to my waist. Then I gasped out loud when they circled around in front, reaching to cup my full breasts. I felt him move closer, inserting his leg between my thighs, pressing his hips to mine. He squeezed my breasts gently, then more firmly. I heard his breathing increase and felt the hardness in his pants through my thin skirt, rubbing against my thigh. I gripped the metal of the car in my fingers as my own breathing sped. Then his hands roamed again, moving down my chest, over my ribs and down, down. I shuddered in anticipation, panting, as I waited for his touch. But not yet. Over my hips and back, his hands now passed over my buttocks, reaching down to cup my cheeks. Again I felt his hardness, this time pressing up against my ass, as he grabbed my hips and pulled me roughly back against him.
Then, abruptly, he let go. "Turn around," he said sternly.
Of course I obeyed.
He jerked his chin toward the front of my car, and I walked over there, wordlessly. I felt the moisture between my legs with each step, the friction caused by my excitement.
When I reached the front of the car, I turned to face him. The road around us was still isolated, but the sound of chirping birds filled the evening air. It seemed quiet and peaceful, but when I saw the look on his face, I knew it wouldn't be for long.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered.
I blinked, looking around, but he just waited.
I complied slowly. First my skirt slid over my hips to land in a small pile at my feet. I kicked off my shoes, then stood, uncertain for a moment. His face was still stern, and he stood watching me, arms crossed over his chest. Only his eyes betrayed his interest. With a quick breath, I reached down and pulled my tank top over my head. That left me with nothing except my pale blue bra and panties. I felt blood rush to my face as I scanned the road once more, heart pounding both with anticipation and nerves, and then went for it. Reaching around, I undid the clasp of my bra and let it slip to the ground with my other things. My panties were next, and I bent over slowly to slide them down, damp already, over my hips. I stepped away from the pile of clothes and then looked back at him, trembling, uncertain, waiting...
The sun was setting and a slight breeze ruffled my hair as I stood there. His stance was ridgid as he examined me openly. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, though, and knew he was not as indifferent as his body language suggested. Inexplicably, his lack of movement, his restraint, instead of making me more nervous, made me more impatient. I shifted my legs slightly as I felt a trickle of moisture, evidence of my impatience. The breeze rustled past again, this time causing my nipples to pucker and stiffen, and instinctively I reached my hands up to warm them.
It was this action that finally caused him to move. With a swift step he was in front of me, reaching up to pull my arms down, away from my breasts. He pulled my arms back, all the way behind me, and clasped them together with one of his. Reaching up with his free hand, he ran his fingers lightly over my hard nipples, causing goosebumps on my skin. I sighed at his touch. Even standing there, naked and vulnerable on the road, I wanted to be taken. This was the freedom I had been craving. This was better than speed in a car.
My sigh seemed to invigorate him. The hand around my wrists tightened, and the fingers caressing my breasts roughened. His hand squeezed first one, then the other, pressing his fingers into my flesh. He pulled me against him as his hand wandered lower, over my stomach, past the flare of my hips and down, down.
This time he didn't stop. My whole body shuddered eagerly as his hand passed over me, past the aching, over my thighs, and then back, to rest where I was hot and wet. For a moment he held his hand there, still, his breath fast in my ear. My arms, still held tight behind my back, stiffened. I wanted to pull them away, to feel him in my grasp, but he wouldn't let me.
"Don't make me get the handcuffs," he whispered in my ear, and I stopped struggling.
Instead I pressed my hips toward his cupping hand, urging him to touch me. He complied. The heat of his hand over my mound was enough to send a ripple of pleasure through me but then, slowly, he slid one finger down, over the warm, moist folds, until he found my centre.
I closed my eyes and moaned into his shoulder. My legs threatened to give way beneath me, and I was grateful for his strong arms holding me up. The finger inside me was soon joined by another. They slid in easily, and I could feel wetness dripping down my leg. My policeman thrust yet another finger inside me, while leaning down to take my nipple in his mouth. He pulled on it roughly, achingly, and I moaned again. I heard an answering sound deep in his throat and his mouth took in more of my breast. First one, then the other, all the while sending his fingers deep inside me.
I couldn't help it. I arched against his hand, moving my hips in time with his fingers. I was panting, flushed, wantonly opening my body for a stranger in the middle of the road. And I didn't care one bit. I wanted more of him. I could feel my desire growing, the fire in my belly was burning hotter, and I wanted more.
"Take me," I gasped out, letting my head fall back.
In a second, I felt his fingers slide out of me, and the pressure on my wrists was gone. Before I could wonder what he was doing, my body was spun around and I was lying, face first, over the hood of my car. I gasped in surprise, then in pleasure, as I felt his hands spread over my body. The metal of the car was warm, almost hot, but the sun was down and the air rapidly cooling. I luxuriated in the sensation of the smooth metal caressing me from one side, rough hands from the other.
And such hands. Over my hips, my buttocks, my thighs. I writhed against the car, then spread my legs, opening myself invitingly.
He didn't refuse. Again I felt him press behind me, felt the bulge straining against his uniform. His fingers explored, penetrated, and I moaned again, pushing back against his hand.
"Take me," I breathed again.
It took him only seconds to be ready. I heard the rapid sound of a zipper, and knew with relief that he was going to take me right here, spread out on my car, wet, dripping, begging to be taken. Then his hands were on my hips again, bruising in their grip, as he tugged my body back toward him. One quick thrust and he filled me, wrenching a cry of pleasure from my lips. I cried out again, then again, as he pounded his body against me, stretching me, filling me. His breath was rasping, fingers tight on my hips as he plunged into me. My hands stretched out across the smooth metal, my own fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically. I closed my eyes, hearing only my rushing heart, feeling wave after wave of need. The friction of my body rubbing against the car combined with his thrusts, and each breath became a cry of pleasure, faster and faster.
Through my haze of bliss I felt him move a hand off my hip, placing it on my ass. I writhed against him again, then gasped as he slipped a finger inside my tight asshole. That one last sensation sent me over the edge. In one swift surge I came, bucking wildly against his body, his hands, screaming out my ecstasy. I faintly heard him echoing my cries, his voice deeper, harsher, as he emptied himself in me. Together we rode the wave, then drooped, spent, panting. I felt my heart thundering against the car, echoing in my ears. As the thundering faded, the quiet returned, and I again heard the soft fluttering of birds nearby.
Too soon, it seemed, he pulled away. Before I could lift myself or turn, I heard his pants close. By the time I had pulled myself around, resting limply on the hood of the car, he had tidied himself. A grin played on his lips. I sat there, still damp and sweaty, naked, used, and stared at him.
His grin widened as he stepped forward and lightly kissed me on the cheek. "Watch your speed," he said, still grinning, then turned and began walking to his car.
I looked around me, shocked to see that night had almost fallen. The flash of his lights was brighter now in the dusk, and it illuminated him clearly as he strode to his car, then got in. A minute later, the engine revved, and he pulled out, swinging into a u-turn before accelerating quickly away. When the sound of his car faded, I glanced around me. My body felt loose and warm, relaxed. Sitting there, exposed, sated, I took a deep breath. Then I smiled. My smile grew as I climbed down off the car, gathered my clothes, and walked over to pull open my door. I looked at the pile of clothing in my hand, considering, then threw it into the car, onto the passenger seat. I wasn't ready to let go yet, of my freedom, of my recklessness. It was dark, the road was empty. What could happen?
Settling myself in, I gunned the engine. And, pulling out, pressed my foot to the gas.
"Let's see how fast this baby can go."
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