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“You’re amazing, my doe. I can’t wait to have you under me the way I want. But for now, I’m going to give you space, and when you come to me tonight, you let me know if you’re ready for more. Okay?” I want Gwendolyn to be comfortable with me before we take our lovemaking further.
“I don’t need space,” she whispers, her eyes finding mine.
“That’s good, baby. But I need to feed my woman, then we’ll commence with the evening festivities,” I say with a grin. “Six thirty. Don’t be late, or I’ll have to spank that perfectly round ass that I’m dying to slap.”
Her look of surprise is adorable, but I know enough about women to see that there’s also a hint of excitement and curiosity.
* * *
I leave the front door open so that Gwendolyn can come straight through to the back. Timing is everything when making the perfect steak. I wait for just the right moment to start the steaks sizzling, then hear a knock at the front door.
“It’s open,” I shout through the sliding door. The creak of the front door reminds me I’ve got to do something about that. It drives me crazy, but it’s one of those things that needs my attention but never makes it to the top of the to-do list.
I wait for a few minutes, expecting Gwendolyn to come directly out back to join me, but when she doesn’t, I head back inside. Only, what I find isn’t what I expect.
“What the hell are you doing on my couch?” I say tersely. Christ! Not this again. Eight months ago, I went out with Karen Samuels. It was literally two dates, and I ended it right after the second date. She’s fucking gorgeous, with long blonde hair and big almond-shaped chocolate-brown eyes, but she’s also selfish as hell. She threw a hissy fit on our second date when I got a call out to a scene, a multivehicle collision with several fatalities. They needed extra hands-on deck.
Karen lost her mind on me and told me that I’d never get another shot. I was fine with that and considered myself lucky that her true colors came out quickly. Unfortunately, Karen had second thoughts after that and called every day for a month. I made it more than clear that we were over. The calls stopped for a while, but every now and again, she comes out of the woodwork to cause a ruckus.
The last time she pulled a stunt like this, I got a restraining order. Karen went to my mother’s place and introduced herself as my fiancée. My mother would have been happy as hell under any other circumstances, but she knew right away that Karen was delusional. Yet, here she is, lazing on my sofa, in a skirt so short I can see her pussy, and a crop top that leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Hello, lover,” she says in a husky voice, extending a hand in my direction and motioning for me to join her on the sofa.
“You’re not supposed to be here. Get out!” Nice doesn’t work with this woman. “You have five seconds to get out of my house before I call the cops.” In this situation, I would rather call it in and put this on record. I don’t think Karen is dangerous, but she needs professional help, and this will only build the case to get her that assistance.
“Baby, don’t be like that. I know we had a terrible fight, but I’m so sorry.” She pouts and gives me these sad eyes, like that’ll do her any good.
“Karen, we had two dates. It went nowhere fast. We’re done. I’ve said it a million times.” And honest to God, it’s coming close to a million times. “Get out of my life. Get out of my house, and get gone.” I point to the door.
Karen slithers off the cushions and does this exaggerated catwalk strut coming toward me. I stand my ground and put out my hand to tell her to keep her distance. “That’s as close as you get.”
Then all of a sudden, the woman jumps me and plasters her mouth to mine, clinging like a leech. She’s all arms and legs, trying to wrap herself around me.
I hear a hiccupped sob as I pry Karen off me and push her backward. She loses her balance and plops onto the floor on her ass. I turn, and there’s Gwendolyn, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. She’s about to run off, but there’s no way I’m letting that happen.
I reach out and gently clasp her upper arm.
“Let me go,” she cries.
“No,” I reply firmly, then take my phone out of my pocket. “Ten minutes and all will become clear.”
I discover that Gwendolyn Honeyton can be stubborn. “No!” she shouts, trying to extricate herself from my firm grip. “I said let go.”
The phone is ringing, and when the officer on duty answers, I tell him, “This is Captain Thorne. I have a perpetrator in my home. There’s a restraining order against her, and she’s in my space. Send a car as soon as possible.” I hang up and make my next call to Damian. “Karen’s here,” I say without waiting for a hello.
“What the fuck? I thought that was done?” He spoke so loudly, even Gwen could hear him. Maybe that’s a good thing, because she stops struggling. “On my way.” The phone clicks off.
By this time, Karen is on her feet and has begun her rant. “Are you kidding me? You’ve replaced me with her?” She points her freshly manicured finger at Gwendolyn, her face twisted in horror and disgust. “This fat cow!”
“I suggest you shut your trap,” I tell her. My blood is pumping wildly in my veins. One more remark about Gwen and I’m going to lose it on her.
“I will not shut my trap. Who do you think you are? You wine and dine me, then toss me aside like a rag doll,” Karen spews. It’s all bullshit, but Gwen doesn’t know that.
“Two fucking dates! We went for dinner, and you flipped out when I had to leave. For work!” I remind her. “It ended that night months and months ago. Now, you’ve got a couple of choices. Get the hell out of my house of your own accord or wait for the police get here and arrest your ass for trespassing and for breaking the restraining order.”
I see the light dawn on Karen’s face. She’s about to bolt, and I’d be glad to be rid of her, only to be greeted by a policeman at the door.
“Karen Samuels, I presume,” the cop says. He then turns to me, “Hey, Captain.”
