Usual Disclaimers apply, but I'm too lazy to put them in! <g>
"May I help you?" he asked softly.
The American studied the detective. He sat behind a wooden desk and all she could see was his large upper body. It was a tossup, which was better, his handsome face or his bulging biceps. He had long dark hair. It fell to his shoulders and curled around his neck. There was a lot more gray in it than she had expected. He had a high forehead, thick quirky eyebrows and deep brown eyes, which were now focused on her face. A scruffy goatee surrounded the most sensual mouth she had ever seen. The lips were full and lush and at the moment he had sort of pursed them in an almost pout. It was incredibly sexy and she felt herself tingle all over from watching it.
Her eyes moved down, he had a large Adam's apple and a big neck. He wore a cutoff T-shirt and his arms were huge, muscled, very cut. The T-shirt was loose but she could tell the chest was also probably massive and cut. She looked around the rest of the office, but found her eyes being pulled back to the man at the desk. Finally, she said, "I need your help."
"Sit down, then," he suggested. "Tell me your name and what I can do for you."
She seated herself with a shrug. "My name is Sara and I have a problem."
John studied the American. There was something about her. He wasn't quite sure what exactly, but something about her just got to him. Maybe it was her eyes. They were wide, deep and full of emotion. Maybe it was the feeling he had that she HATED asking for help and that her coming there was a big thing. In any case, he got the distinct impression that she needed his help rather badly and was somehow loath to ask. He decided to treat her as if she was a frightened animal and gentle her along. "What can I do to help you?"
Sara swallowed hard. His voice was so gentle and kind. Suddenly tears began to well in her eyes. This was impossible! "I need to find . . . a friend . . ." without warning she began to cry.
John sighed and came out from behind the desk. He walked around her to her side and stood in front of her. He leaned back against the desk and offered her a tissue.
Sara sniffled and accepted it. Now that he was so close, she could actually smell him. He smelled like a man should spicy and sexy. She felt her body respond even more and cursed herself for it. She needed help and yet all she could think about was having that man across his desk.
John suddenly found he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and to hold her. To kiss her tears away. The feeling surprised him. "Sara," he said gently, "I'll try to help, I will. But I need to know what's wrong."
She nodded and tried to get her emotions under control. With a mighty effort, she finally managed to stop crying. "A friend of mine is missing. She came here to Auckland on vacation and never returned. I checked with her family, her other friends and as far as we can tell she never returned to the States. She's . . . vanished."
"Vanished?" he echoed softly. "People don't vanish. Are you sure that she never went home?"
Sara nodded. "She would have called me when she got back. If she got back. Her return ticket wasn't used. She must still be here except if she was okay she would have let me know."
"How long has she been . . . when was she due back? Maybe she just . . ."
"Two weeks ago. She would never do this to me or anyone else. Something MUST have happened to her."
"Are you sure she isn't just . . . maybe she met someone and . . ."
Sara shook her head. "She would have told me. Something is wrong. I can feel it."
John shrugged and went back behind his desk. He sat down grabbed a legal pad, pen, and said, "Tell me everything."
Sara sniffed one more time and then began to give him all the information she had.
John wrote it all down. There were lots of places to start. "Have you checked with the cops?"
She nodded. "That's where I got your name. Dave Bruford recommended you."
"What do you do in the States?" he asked. When she had calmed down enough to talk, he was impressed with her recitation of the facts. It was crisp and concise. Well thought out and detailed. He watched as a small attractive smile quirked around her full mouth.
"I'm a solicitor," she confessed using his colloquialism.
"Ah . . . that explains it."
"Explains what?"
"You have a logical grasp of facts," he admitted slowly.
"And most women don't?" she challenged with amusement.
He felt his face begin to flush. "I didn't mean . . ." he paused and reflected, "maybe I did."
Suddenly Sara laughed. "Tell you what, Mr. Lawless. You try and think of me as intelligent and I'll try NOT to be insulted when you don't act like it."
John chuckled. "Tell YOU what. Call me John and I'll try not to be a dickhead."
"I'm staying at the Carleton," she explained as she rose. "You can contact me there."
"Kinda pricey," he muttered.
"American solicitors make lots of money or haven't you heard? Besides, the rate of exchange is very favorable right now. Speaking of that, what do you charge?"
"$250 a day plus expenses. A case like this though . . ." He paused and then added, "I'll either get lucky and find her right away or it could take months. If she's still here."
"She's here. I'm sure of it. Find her for me, John. I'm very worried."
"I'll do my best."
Three days later John called and arranged to meet Sara. He knew she had spent three days trying to distract herself by wandering around Auckland and she apparently hadn't done a very good job. When he met her at the pub, he thought she looked tired, drawn and sad. He felt his heart move at the way she looked. Well, his news should help.
Sara saw the detective and was again nearly overwhelmed by his sheer physical presence. She'd never seen a man quite so attractive. John wore a red Henley and jeans. The shirt was open at the throat and she could see a smattering of dark hair on his neck. She joined him at the table. "Hello, John," she greeted him.
"Would you like a drink?" he suggested.
"Do I need one?" she asked. "You said you had news. Have you . . . is she . . . What did you find?"
"Sara, she's alive and happy. That's the good news. But she . . ."
"She's okay?" Sara interrupted.
He nodded. "But she doesn't want to see you. She's not going back to the States."
"I think I will take that drink now," Sara muttered.
He nodded. He gestured for the waitress and Sara ordered a vodka martini straight up.
John waited and then after she had it and had taken a deep sip explained, "She met a man and she's in love. She's happy with him. She's married him. She said she has a life here and it has no bearing on her former life. She's sorry you're upset, but . . ."
Sara shook her head. So much for friendship. "Her family is very worried."
"I told her. She said she'd get word to them. I'm sorry, Sara. She was adamant that I not tell you where to find her. Thinks you'll try and talk her out of things."
Sara drank her drink down in one gulp and then ordered another. "I probably would," she mused.
"She said you had a gift for it."
Sara laughed. "Talk is my stock in trade."
"Well, at least she's okay. There was your biggest worry, eh?"
Sara nodded and drank her second martini just as quickly as her first. Then she gestured for a third.
John suggested, "Hey, slow down. Three of those?"
Sara laughed. "I can handle a lot more than three. Just takes practice."
John shrugged. He'd been there. "You're an adult. I got no cause . . . but . . . I know from experience alcohol never solved anything."
Now she shrugged. "Maybe not. But it eases the pain."
He studied her. "I think you know it doesn't. Not really. Might do it for an hour or two, but never really makes it go away."
"You got a better idea?"
He looked at her. She was vulnerable and sad. Beautiful and hurt. Yeah, he had a better idea. "Maybe. Fancy a wee drive?"
"A what?"
"Sorry. Would you like to go for a ride?"
"In the States I might be inferring that you planned to off me from that statement."
"Off you?" he echoed.
"You know, taking me for a ride, kill me."
John laughed. "Not even close to what I had in mind."
The third martini came and Sara downed it as quickly as the first two. Then she rose and said, "I think I'd rather just go to my hotel. Make plans to return to the States."
He nodded. "I'll take you."
"I can take a cab," she slurred.
He shook his head. "No. You're drunk already. I'd be a really lousy detective if I let you get lost." He rose from the chair and put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. When she tried to shrug him off he said, "You're a bit unsteady on your pins. Best to let me help."
"You talk funny," she murmured.
"So do you," he retorted with a smile.
"You reckon?" she teased.
He smiled full out. Sara saw his eyes crinkle and two of the most beautiful and perfect dimples she had ever seen appeared on his cheeks. Unconsciously she reached up and traced one of them with her finger.
John felt his skin tingle at her touch. But he wasn't about to take advantage of a drunken woman. "None of that, now," he mumbled as he brushed her hand away. "We should get you to bed."
"Now that is an excellent idea," she agreed. "Care to join me?"
He ignored that, got her out of the pub and into his car.
The alcohol was hitting her much harder than she had expected. She couldn't believe she had propositioned him. Still, he hadn't said no.
When they got to the hotel John pulled up in front as if he was just going to drop her, then seemed to change his mind. He drove past the entrance and around to the side parking lot. By now, Sara was feeling quite drunk and she was grateful for his help.
He put a strong arm around her waist and asked, "What floor?"
"Can't remember. It's on the key."
"Where's the key?"
"My bag."
He took the bag from her and rummaged in it, finally finding the key. Room 426. He led her onto the elevator and got her to her room. He unlocked the door and helped her in. It was a nice room, a mini-suite. He got her settled on the couch and turned to go.
"Don't leave," she said. "I don't want to be alone."
"Sara . . ." he studied her face. She was looking at him with confusion, longing, hurt and need. The mix of emotions on her face made him powerless to leave. He joined her on the couch.
"Where would you have taken me if I hadn't had that last drink?" she asked.
"My boat. For a ride on my boat."
"Good thing I got drunk then. I get sea sick."
He laughed. "You do, do ya? I thought you could do anything."
"Where would you get an idea like that?"
"From you."
She laughed, then whooped and said, "Excuse me." She ran to the bathroom. 25 minutes later she came out looking sober and wet. "Sorry," she mumbled with embarrassment. "I never ate today. I . . . um . . . sorry."
"No worries. I'll just piss off, then."
"You'll what?" she echoed scandalized.
He grinned. "Sorry. I'll leave."
"Don't go," she requested. "John, you're . . . in the pub, for moment . . . I . . . I'm sober now. And I'd like to repeat my offer."
"Your offer?"
She moved closer to him. She had showered and she wore a thin silky robe that barely covered her lush body. "Yes. To share my bed."
He wanted her, rather badly it was true, but said, "You're just feeling sad and vulnerable. You don't really . . ."
She smiled and interrupted him. "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately? What woman wouldn't, drunk or sober, want to jump your bones? You're gorgeous. It is NOT the alcohol or anything else talking."
He flushed. "Thanks for that, but . . ."
She came even closer. "You can't tell me you don't want me. I can see that you do." Her eyes drifted down to below his waist. His erection was obvious.
He shrugged. "Maybe, but . . ."
She came even closer. "But what? I'm an adult. You're an adult. A little human warmth, the touch of a hand, where's the harm?"
It was a good question and one for which he wasn't sure he had an answer. Still, he probably would have said no anyway and left, but suddenly she was in his lap. Her warm nearly naked body pressed to his her soft lips kissing him.
Sara wrapped her arms around him and pressed hungrily against his hard hot body. Her lips pressed to his mouth and her fingers tangled in his thick hair.
John responded to her with his own need. He put his arms around her, running his hands over the silky robe. He could feel her breasts through the robe feel the heat of her sex as it pressed against his shaft. He moaned and pulled back. "Sara, are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.
She grinned and said, "Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?"
"Every woman I've ever met," he muttered.
Sara laughed and agreed, "I'm sure." Then she began to kiss him again.
John gave in and went for it. He slipped his hands to the opening of her robe and under it. He palmed her breasts and began squeezing the mounds of flesh.
She wiggled on his lap, rubbing herself against him. She pulled back and murmured, "You are so hard."
He grinned and undid her robe completely then he bent his head and began to tongue her nipples.
Sara moaned and pressed on him feeling his rock hard shaft beneath her. She stroked his hair as she felt his lovely mouth and tongue caress her breasts. She began to rub harder against him her clit throbbing as he took a nipple into his hot mouth and began to suck.
Suddenly he released her nipple and said, "Slow down."
The feel of his hardness even through his jeans against her nether lips was driving her crazy. "Make me," she retorted.
He chuckled then grabbed her around the waist. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and moved her off him and onto the couch. He pushed her robe off her shoulders and pressed her down on to her back. Then he ran his hands up and down her naked body. She shivered. He bent his head again and suckled at her lush breasts one of his hands searching for her opening. He found her nether lips and traced them lightly. She moaned his name and reached for his pants. He batted her hand away. "Wait your turn," he murmured.
He slipped two fingers inside her as he hungrily sucked her nipple. She arched up driving his fingers deeper. He began to move them in out and then rotated his hand to thumb her clit. She groaned as he began to rub it and came all over him. He slipped his fingers out and brought them to his lips. He sucked her juices off and said, "Tasty. Guess I'll have to go there next."
Sara panted trying to breathe. Then watched spellbound as he kissed his way down her body and moved between her legs. As his handsome face moved between her thighs, she arched up again. She closed her eyes as she felt his soft lips kiss her thighs and then his tongue darted inside her, teasing her clit dancing and dipping, scouring her warmth like a miniature shovel.
She moaned his name and began to pant as his tongue licked her clit. She felt it throb and then he sucked it and with an uncontrollable set of spasms she came and came and came all over his face. She thought she might blackout from the sexual high. She opened her eyes to see him smiling at her. When she could finally breathe she asked, "My turn yet?"
He chuckled. "Most women would think that WAS their turn."
"I'm not most women," she muttered. She sat up and reached for his T-shirt. He helped her pull it off and she sucked in her breath. "Oh my god," she whispered. She'd never seen anything like it. Possibly, the most perfect upper body in the universe. Perfect pecs, washboard abs, and just the right amount of curly dark hair. She touched him reverently her eyes wide with awe. She ran her nails over his nipples and he moaned. Now she bent her head and licked them until they were hard. He gripped her head to his chest, stroking her short dark hair.
She slipped her hand down and began to undo his jeans, running her nails over his erection. He groaned and pushed her hands away. She released his nipple and looked up quizzically.
"Be better if I do it," he muttered uncomfortably. "It's . . . um . . ."
"Awfully tight in there?" she finished for him.
He nodded. Then his face flushed.
Sara found his flush beyond adorable. She sat back on her heels and then got a better idea. She got up off the sofa and offered her hand. "The bed's much more comfortable."
He nodded. He slipped out of his boots and then rose and took her hand. Sara sat on the bed and watched him with amused eyes as he unzipped his jeans and slipped them and his briefs off. She hopped up from the bed and moved between his legs, going straight for his engorged organ. She could already see a lovely drop of pre-come glistening on the tip. She delicately licked it off and then took him into her mouth.
John groaned at the heat and wetness. It felt great.
Sara began to expertly go down on him, loving the taste and feel of him. Suddenly, he said, "Sara, stop."
She pulled back and released him. "Why?"
"As good is that is, I know something that feels better."
She grinned at him. "Oh yeah? What?"
He pulled her up and held her for a moment. Then he pushed her to the bed. She went willingly. She slid all the way up and lay down on her back. She opened her arms and gestured for him to come to her.
John grinned, lay down and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her forehead, then her eyes, her nose and each cheek. Finally, he brushed her lips with his. She could taste herself on his lips and smell herself in his beard.
He ran his hands over her back, then gripped her waist and rolled them over so that he was on top. He touched her face, then ran his hands down towards her sex. She arched when he touched it. She was still wet. He slid a finger in and brushed her clit. She moaned. She was more than ready. In fact, her hand was already reaching for his aching cock.
She grasped him and guided him in as he slid his finger out. He pushed up deeply feeling her hot wet sex grip him tightly.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and he felt her hands move to his ass and rub it. Then she pushed her pelvis up, forcing him deeper inside her.
He propped himself on one arm and looked at her. She was smiling at him. He bent his head to suckle at her lush breasts as he began to glide out of her slowly. Sara moaned beneath him and tried to push up, not wanting him to go. He grinned and slid slowly back in. The friction was like an itch that needed scratching, the desire, fueled by the foreplay made all the sensations more so.
He began to thrust fast, now only pulling halfway out, grinding back into her, her body arching with him. Each thrust became harder, quicker, deeper; their bodies began to get slick with sweat. She moved her legs higher, her arms pulled him closer, and now he could go even deeper. The depth of the stroke, the sound of her moans, it was just all too much. He felt his balls tighten and with a groan, he came, his body shuddering as he shot his seed deep inside her, as he felt her spasming around him.
She pulled him down flat on her and held him as their spasms overtook them. She clung to him overwhelmed with the force of the pleasure. She could feel his cock still throbbing inside her and it made her horny all over again.
He withdrew from her and rolled off, but then pulled her back against him. He kissed the nape of her neck as he rubbed her breasts. She nestled against him with a soft sigh. "See, this was a good idea, wasn't it?" Sara murmured as she snuggled against him.
John laughed softly. "Definitely better than a kick in the head."
She laughed with him. "I'll be leaving tomorrow. But I'm glad we got the chance to know one another."
"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" he asked softly.
She thought about that for a moment. She could probably stay another day or two, if she had a good incentive. "What did you have in mind?" she asked.
He breathed into her ear, "Some more of this."
"Good thing I haven't made that reservation yet," she muttered.
The End