Compromised

When she had arrived at the hospital, they directed her to Carmen's room. Megan had done her residency at St. Andrews, which had just ended the year before. She saw a lot of people she knew. Most nodded politely. One nurse flinched when she saw Megan, and muttered, "Dr. Bitch" under her breath. She had taken pride when that epithet was used by the less talented and hardworking staff. It only bothered her when used by people she respected. The nurse was not in the latter category, and Megan ignored her.

She noticed a man standing in the hallway outside her destination. He was tall, muscular under his sport coat and slacks, and had a mustache. She had only had the time for the occasional short term fling during her residency, and was only now getting back into the dating pool. The mustache was a turn-off, but otherwise he looked like her type.

The man watched her approach. His eyes didn't linger too long on her breasts, but he clearly was checking her out. Since he was cute, and stood with the sort of arrogance that she liked in guys, she looked and noticed he had no wedding ring.

He moved to intercept her as she pivoted to head into Carmen's room.

Megan crossed her arms and met his gaze. "You a cop?" She asked.

His eyes opened slightly, and he smiled. "I am asking the questions here. How did you know?"

"The mustache. Only cops, bikers, and gay guys wear them any more. You aren't dressed like a biker, and a gay man wouldn't have imagined me naked while I walked down the hall."

He smiled, but self-consciously stroked his mustache with his left hand. "Cops, gays, and bikers..."

Megan frowned as the implications of his presence hit her. "Is my sister in trouble?"

"You are Ms. Cross's sister? No, she is not in trouble, but she was the victim of an assault."

Megan felt hatred rise in her throat. That bastard. She pushed past the detective and walked into the room.

Carmen was getting dressed behind a curtain. She looked up as Megan came into view. "Oh thank you for coming. I feel like such an idiot." Carmen was crying -- her tears flowing down past a swollen right eye. She also had a bruised lip. Chris had hit her. The fucker. I saw this coming. I warned her.

"Can I come in yet?"

"That's the police detective," Carmen explained to Megan. She finished buttoning her jeans, then called out, "Yes, thanks for waiting."

The detective pulled out a laptop and sat in a chair. "Please tell me what happened."

Carmen relayed her story. She had finally decided to break up with her asshole boyfriend, and he wasn't happy. He went to Carmen's apartment, weaseled his way inside and beat her. He only left when the neighbors had announced they had called the police. The police had called an ambulance, which took her to the hospital.

The detective asked more questions filling in the details. How long had she known Chris? What was his full name? What was his address. Any other addresses? Phone number? Had he done this before? Were there any witnesses other than the neighbors who called 9-1-1?

Megan was focused on Carmen, holding her hand and hugging her. She listened to the detective, but otherwise ignored him. Her sister was her world right now.

Then Carmen started crying again. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have broken up with him. I knew it would make him angry and make him do this."

Megan felt anger welling up again, but before she could speak, the detective voiced her thoughts for her.

"Don't! The only person at fault here is him. Never think for a minute that you deserved this, or that you earned it. He assaulted you. This is a serious crime. He is looking at jail time, and possibly prison."

Carmen nodded, and seemed to draw some strength from his words.

Megan gave him an appreciative smile. Carmen had heard this from Megan before, but hearing it from an alpha male like Muscles here was far better. "What's your name, detective?"

"Eric Fletcher."

"Nice to meet you, Detective Fletcher." She held his eyes for what she knew was longer than proper.

---

That was who Eric was, Megan thought. She felt a warmth rising within her. Why was she letting petty stuff like household chores get in the way of what should be a happy marriage to a good man?

Eric was almost done loading the washing machine. She had been staring at his muscles all morning, it seemed, and she now wanted to feel them -- not with her hands, but with her skin. She wanted the touch of her breasts against his pecs, her arms around his neck, and her thighs against his legs. An idea suddenly struck her. She saw a chair in the laundry room, and she picked it up.

The noise of the chair scraping on the cement floor attracted Eric's attention. He still looked annoyed. "Are you checking up on me to make sure I did it?"

Megan wanted to defuse his mood. "No, I just like to watch you do stuff. I like to watch you move. I love your body."

Eric gave a half smile, as if he wasn't sure whether she was humoring him. He closed the lid on the washing machine and started it.

When he turned to leave, Megan was standing right in front of him, her body inches from his. Megan watched him start in surprise.

She reached up and put her hands around his neck, and gave him a sultry smile. "You aren't done yet."

His smile was more genuine now. "Oh?"

"There are a few other pieces of clothing that need to be washed." Megan moved closer to him, and kept moving, pushing him backwards. She steered him toward the chair. When Eric's legs were up against it, Megan slid her hands down Eric's thighs, and pushed down, indicating he should sit.

He sat, looking up at her with the expression of a kid being told Christmas was now every month.

Megan slowly walked behind him, letting her hands run over the firm muscles she had been admiring earlier. When she came around the other side of the chair, she stepped her left leg across his body and sat down on Eric's lap, straddling his hips. She couldn't feel an erection yet, but that was a situation she could fix.

She crossed her hands in front of her breasts, and let her fingers slide down along her curves until her nails were able to lift the bottom hem of her black baby doll t-shirt. She curled her fingers underneath, and watched Eric's eyes as she slowly lifted the shirt up, first exposing a firm stomach, then the underside of her bra, and finally the tops of her breasts. She pulled the shirt over her head, gave what she hoped was a sultry twirl, and threw it on top of the washing machine.

Eric's hands were immediately touching her stomach. He felt the flat expanse of her midriff, curved his strong fingers around her waist, and moved them up to caress the skin of her breasts.

Megan smiled down on him. She knew he liked her body. She went to yoga three days a week, and pilates classes on the other four, and she was proud of how it paid off. She felt the stiffening of his cock in his pants, and she rubbed up against him to show she knew it was there.

She felt his hands leave her breasts and move to her back. He was going to undo her bra. She leaned back to put the straps out of reach, and pushed his hands down. No, she was going to do it herself. Her hands pushed the shoulder straps off of her shoulder, and Eric immediately started touching her neck. He always complimented her when she wore tube tops and strapless dresses. She knew he thought her shoulders and neck were beautiful. She let her neck swan backward in response to his touch.

Reaching behind to undo her own brassiere had the bonus affect of thrusting her chest forward. Eric's hands began playing with the edges of her bra in anticipation.

Megan laughed to herself. She was going to make sure he understood the "tease" part of "striptease". She gave one thrust against his pelvis, and then stood up, pulling her breasts out of his reach. She turned away from him as she undid the bra clasp, and kept her back facing him as she threw her bra on top of the washing machine. When she turned around again, her left arm was crossed in front of both breasts.

Eric smiled as he finally recognized what she was doing. "You haven't flirted and teased me like this in years. What got into you?"

"I think you mean, what's gonna get into me." She looked at his crotch to emphasize the point. Her right hand undid the fly of her jeans as she began to sway her hips in front of Eric's face.

She turned her back again so she could push her jeans down. Megan remembered that she was wearing her practical cotton panties, and felt regret. She doubted Eric would complain, but she wished she was wearing something sexier.

Eric whistled as her jeans slid to the floor, and she kicked them off, along with her shoes. She felt his hands touch her flanks, and knead the flesh of her ass. She flexed appreciatively, and pressed her hips back into his hands.

Keeping her back to him, and her left arm on her breasts, she sat back down on his lap. She spread her legs wide so she could feel his hard cock press against her clit. "God, I am getting so horny", she moaned. She undulated her hips on top of his cock, and felt just how wet she was.

Eric ran his hands along her sides, hips, and thighs. He moved them back up, feathering the soft skin of her inner thighs. He was planning to touch her vagina, she could tell.

The washing machine entered the spin cycle, which brought the passage of time to her attention. "Eric, do you have time to make love to me before work?"

"Not if I want to do it right." he was toying with her clit through the damp cotton fabric of her panties.

"Then do it wrong."

Eric's hands went underneath her legs, and he stood up, carrying her with him. She was surprised when he set her down on top of the washing machine. She opened her legs for him.

He stepped closer and kissed her. "I won't settle for wrong."

A wave of pleasure coursed through Megan's body. The vibrations from the spinning washing machine were pounding her clitoris. She moaned, and pulled Eric closer to her, hoping to change his mind. Get your cock in me now, dammit.

Eric knew the effect the machine was having on her, and simply held her thighs down, while kissing her.

The vibrations quickly became too much for Megan. She opened her mouth wide in a low moan as she came.

Eric kissed her once more, and headed up the stairs. "Tonight," was all he said before he left for work.

---

Megan looked forward to the end of her shift all day. She spent a good share of the day reliving their encounter in the laundry room. At one point, she had been reviewing the results of an MRI, and part of the image struck her as vaguely phallic. She suddenly recalled how Eric's cock had felt rubbing up against her. She had moaned in response, drawing a concerned question from the patient. She had answered that she was impressed by the size of the patient's cerebellum.

But her sense of arousal persisted, and she kept checking the clock to see when she could leave. When the end of her shift arrived, she was the first out the door.

Eric was a little late returning. He worked further away, so she usually beat him home. When she heard the garage door open shortly after six, she quick checked herself in the mirror. "Stunning", she thought. She had even put on a g-string that Eric liked, and she looked forward to him discovering she was wearing it. She was damp between her legs in anticipation.

She struck a provocative pose with one leg up on a kitchen chair, and waited for him to enter from the garage.

The door opened, and he saw her. Apparently, he had been looking forward to this all day as well, as he grinned, threw his coat on the floor, and moved toward her.

Megan deflated. "Honey, can you hang your coat up?"

"Later. You are more important." He placed his hand on her thigh.

"The hook is two feet away. It takes just as much effort to put it on the hook as it does to throw it on the floor."

She watched a storm rise in Eric's eyes. "God, you are unbelievable!"

"Please?"

"I have been looking forward to this all day. You got me so worked up this morning, and the first thing you do when I walk through the door is nag me."

The coat drew her attention like a magnet. Messes always had this affect on her. "Fine, I will do it." She walked over, picked up his coat, and put it on the hook. She noticed Eric roll his eyes, and that only infuriated her.

When he reached to hold her, she simply walked away, saying, "Let's eat dinner."

Eric looked sullen all through their meal, and afterwords had stormed into the TV room to watch a hockey game.

When Eric came to bed that night, he rolled onto his side and faced away from her, saying nothing.

All I need to do is touch him, she thought to herself. If I snuggle up behind him and put my arm around him, he will have an erection within minutes, and I can drift my hand down and start jerking him off. He will have his cock inside me in under ten minutes. All I have to do his touch him.

But this was his fault. He was acting like a surly teenager, refusing to hang up his coat, refusing to apologize, and now giving her the silent treatment. Fuck him -- or rather -- don't.

Megan rolled over and went to sleep.

---

Friday

Eric got home at six. After dinner, he had the courtesy to put his plate in the dishwasher, but started walking toward the TV room.

Megan looked at the pans that had been dirtied preparing dinner, and felt irritated that he expected her to do it. "Sweetie, can you help me with the dishes? If you can scrub the pans, I will get the rest."

Eric said nothing, but took a station by the sink, and began filling it with hot water. Megan finished cleaning off the table and started on the counters, and then stopped.

Her attention was drawn by the way Eric's muscles moved as he scrubbed the pans. She caught herself cleaning the same section of the counter a second time, just so she could have a better angle watching his hands. Megan watched him scour their cast iron skillet, noticing the strength and precision of his fingers.

Megan sat down on one of the kitchen stools to watch him closer, and remembered how often those hands had pleasured her.

---

Eric had arrested Carmen's ex-boyfriend at his apartment the day after the attack. Chris had been charged with assault, but had posted bail. Eric called after Chris had left the jail. Since Megan had insisted that Carmen stay at her house for a few weeks, she had given Eric her phone number as a contact.

Carmen, as usual, was refusing to deal with the particulars of everyday life. She was a free spirit, their mother liked to say. She is an idiot, Megan would respond. She didn't really mean it. Carmen was her sister, and she loved her, but she could be so... impractical.

Eric recommended a restraining order. "He has a history of domestic abuse. He has three priors for assault. All girlfriends. The bad news is that he may not give up easily. The good news is that he is probably looking at prison time."

"Will Chris comply with a restraining order?"

"I doubt it."

"Then why bother?"

"Because it is crime to violate a restraining order. You don't have to wait for him to attack Carmen. He can get up to a year in jail just for showing up at the front door, and in a case where the subject is already being charged with assault, the judge will likely throw the book at him."

They got the restraining order.

That Thursday evening, there had been a knock at Megan's door. She checked through the peephole, and didn't immediately recognize the man on the other side. It wasn't Chris, but he looked familiar. The man smiled, and she realized that it was Eric.

She hadn't recognized him because he had shaved his mustache.

Megan opened the door, suppressing her own smile. "How can we help you, detective?"

"I just wanted to see how your sister was doing, to see if she had been bothered by her ex. Sometimes the victim doesn't call the police when there is contact, and I like to follow-up periodically."

"Carmen hasn't been contacted, have you --" Megan looked over at Carmen, who was sitting on the couch. Carmen was biting her lower lip, looking sheepish. "Fuck, I guess you had better come in, detective."

Chris had called Carmen's cell phone early today, complaining about the restraining order, begging her to take him back. Eric said that one phone call wasn't enough to have Chris arrested, but that he would file the paperwork with the prosecutor who send a legal warning and reminder. If Chris did it again, they could arrest him.

Eric reminded Carmen to call the police if Chris contacted her again. But he looked at Megan during the reminder, obviously believing that Carmen might need help remembering. Megan had nodded her understanding. "Detective Fletcher, we were just making supper. Would you care to join us?"

"Thank you Dr. Cross, but I wouldn't want to impose."

"Please. You have been so thoughtful. Consider it our effort to support our police department."

Carmen was looking at Megan with a shocked, teasing, expression.

Megan kicked her when the detective wasn't looking.

Eric accepted the invitation. Megan served Beef Stroganoff. Eric ate two servings, complimented her cooking, and thanked her profusely.

When he departed, Carmen burst out what she had been thinking. "Oh my God, you little slut, you are hitting on him!"

"He has been nice to you. I wanted to say thank you."

"You like him."

"What's not to like?"

"Didn't he have a mustache at the hospital?"

"Yes. He shaved it."

"I wonder why he did that?"

"Maybe somebody implied it looked gay."

"You didn't!"

It was Megan's turn to look sheepish.

Eric had stopped by the next Monday. He asked again whether Chris had contacted Carmen. Carmen insisted he hadn't. Eric inspected their door locks, and with their approval, installed a deadbolt on the back door, using hardware he "just happened to have" in his car.

Megan knew this was going above and beyond in the "protect and serve" department. She made him a bacon and scallion risotto that was one of her secret weapons with guys. He loved it.

When he left, Carmen insisted that the detective's eyes had rarely left Megan all evening. Megan smiled at that.

On Thursday he stopped by once more. He brought a couple cans of pepper spray. "Just in case."

Megan cooked steak.

"You never cook steak," Carmen had whispered.

"Shush, you."

When he readied to leave their house, Megan stopped him at the door. "Why don't you come over again Saturday Night, detective?"

"Why?"

"You are the detective. You figure it out." She stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.

Eric was surprised, but responded. He was blushing when he broke contact. "This is kind of a delicate area, Dr. Cross."

"Call me Megan."

"It looks bad if we seem to be using our position to make time with domestic assault victims."

"My sister was the victim, not me, detective."

"Good point. In which case, you had better call me Eric."

That Saturday, after dinner, they had kissed on the couch for ten minutes until Carmen had interrupted them when she came home early from a night out with friends.

The next Friday, Carmen had gone to sleep early, and Megan led Eric into her bedroom.

Megan had let him remove her pants and touch her nether lips. He had stroked her thighs delicately until she finally parted them, and then he lubricated his index finger with her fluids and gently teased her labia and clit. He had started with small, light circles, growing larger and more firm as she began to respond. Within a couple minutes, she had been bucking her hips in the air and screaming her pleasure.

---

"Megan?" Eric's voice broke her out of her reverie. "What are you doing?"