Heaven or Heathen for Vicki

A hard, almost painful pinch at the base of my cock told me I was beyond the point of stopping. I slammed my pubic bone against Vicki's and did it again, and again, and then I roared like a wild animal. My voice obliterated any sound Vicki made as my hot sperm laden cum jetted into her, hit her cervix, and was flowing around the head of my cock while it moved in and out of her in an uneven rhythm as she held me inside her with her muscle contractions squeezing every drop out of me.

It does not happen often enough, but I knew I was going to stay hard. My cock would soften slightly, but as I moved slowly staying fully embedded in her, I felt the returning hardness. I looked down at Vicki and saw near fright on her face. I cocked one eyebrow and slammed against her as hard as I could, thinking to my self, "You wanted this, now take it."

I took my time, moving slowly in and out of her, feeling her juices combined with my cum as they built up to bathe her tissues. I felt like I was sliding through warm, wet, velvet, roughing and smoothing the nap of the fabric. My mother had a small velvet handbag I used to rub while I sat beside her on Sunday mornings in church. In winter, I wore a suede jacket with the same type of nap.

Vicki was shivering, either from the coolness of our drying perspiration or the approach of another climax. I was no longer holding her wrists, but she was doing nothing to push me away from her. It was no longer taking all of my mental powers to control myself. I could think about what I was doing and enjoy myself. She brought this on herself and she hardly seemed to be fighting me, in fact, she seemed to be enjoying it now.

Slipping my raging hard dick in and out of her in a steady rhythm, I asked, "How bad do you want this?"

Instead of answering me, Vicki turned her head as if she did not want to see me, but she continued to lift her hips to meet each of my thrusts. I thought about pulling her up so I could get behind her, put my hands on her back, and force her to her knees so I could take her from behind, make her submit, show her how rough I could be if she wanted it that way.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed and stopped, withdrew, and got off the bed, walking toward the bathroom.

As I stepped into the area under the showerheads, feeling the warm tiles beneath my feet, the beginning of the warm water flowing as it grew hotter, and the airflow building from above, I marveled at the creation of this sensual corner of the room. Someone with a very erotic mind and the money to indulge it had designed this bathroom and I doubted it was Vicki. According to her, she wasn't even eighteen during the construction of this room.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't to see Vicki sitting on the wooden bench holding a towel on her lap as I soaped and rinsed my body. When I stepped out from under the water, she handed me the towel and walked into the shower as the water once again began to flow. Nor do I know how long it took her to complete her shower. I was dressed before she left the bathroom and probably driving away from her house before she left the bedroom.

** ** **

Whew, I wasn't sure if I was leaving Vicki because I couldn't stand to look at a woman I had treated so badly or if I wanted her again as desperately as I did the first time. I could not get the sight out of my head of her standing in that fabulous shower with the soft mist of water falling on her head as soapsuds rolled down her back, across her cute ass and down her legs. I had driven through several intersections before I realized I hadn't gotten my hands on that ass as I had pictured myself doing the entire time we sat in her kitchen talking.

I felt an erection growing and started cursing, but I was not going back to see her, I'd probably just make things worse. Going home would have put me in a worse frame of mind so I went back to Bat's Pub.

Who on earth would name their son Battalion? I'd never heard of another man called Bat. He owned the small strip center of four or five storefronts. His small business, on one end, was the sale and mounting of quality gemstones in a custom setting. I'd known him most of my life, I visited his shop with my father when he shopped for mother's birthday or Christmas presents. I remembered the blue velvet jewelry boxes with the small pear stamped in gold foil below the words "Jewels by Pearson."

Twenty years ago, when the owner of the bar got into trouble with the state alcohol authorities, Bat applied for a liquor license, bought the remaining stock and the few assets that weren't rented, and changed the name of the bar. The income from the bar was probably two or three times what he made from the sale of gemstones, but he was almost never in to pub. Alice was bartender, bookkeeper, and liquor purchaser. She hired and fired waitresses and worked one, two, or three nights a week. She was also Mrs. Battalion Pearson.

Alice saw me walk in and she looked behind me as if she expected to see someone else with me. I shook my head and sat down on about the same stool I'd used when I walked in to the bar so much earlier in the evening. I knew it wasn't long before last call so I told Alice to fix me a Black Jack and water three times.

I downed the first glassful without even tasting it. The second was not much better. I just sat looking at the third glass of Tennessee whiskey and water. After a minute, I looked at the corner and wondered if I should walk across the pub and tear up the booth where Tony and Sheri had been sitting when I pulled Vicki out of the pub several hours earlier.

"You want to talk about it, or do you want to explode?" Alice asked. She pointed at me and rubbed the side of her neck.

I leaned over to look into the raised back edge of the bar, which was a dark smoky mirror, something I'd always liked because I could see what was happening behind me without turning around. I noticed a red spot, high on my neck. I guess it was a mark of some kind, left over of having rough sex.

Alice confirmed my thoughts, "Did somebody bite you, big boy?"

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders. Alice looked over at the stool where Vicki had been sitting earlier and, dammit, I blushed. I felt the heat rising up my neck and knew my face was turning red. Alice chuckled and commented that she hoped it was worth it. I was going to have the mark for several days and anyone who saw me would know what I'd been doing.

"Do you know her? Has she been in before tonight?" It was probably a foolish question. I had heard Alice introduce herself and ask Vicki for her name.

Alice shook her head, "You?"

I shook my head. I wasn't going to admit anything. Instead, I cocked my head toward the now empty corner where Sheri and Tony had sat. "They stay long?" Alice would know whom I was talking about; Sheri had been coming into Bat's with me for almost a year. Tony and I had been fairly regular customers since we began making enough money to buy a drink in a bar.

"Maybe two hours," Alice answered. She knew my propensity to ask questions, even about a subject or a person in whom I had a passing interest and not a professional one. "Is that over?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "But it's not good. Did you know?" I didn't know if Alice would answer the question, nor did I know if I was trying to find out if I had been blind or if they had hidden it so well.

"Not a clue. Saw a few others do a double take, too." She was subtly telling me that I couldn't blame myself for not knowing my best friend was fucking the woman I thought I would marry.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my money clip and a small ring box. After taking a small sip of my third Jack and water, I pushed the glass back, placed the ring box on the bar, and slid it over beside my glass. I looked at the small gold pear with a single small leaf attached to the stem, foil stamped on the lid of the box. I told Alice, "Give that back to Bat, and tell him I won't need it." I left money on the bar for my drink plus the tab I'd left earlier and walked out. I could finally go home and sleep. Maybe.

** ** **

After telling Taylor about the other half of his evening with Vicki, Haven was a lot calmer. His various bruises and the bite mark had faded, along with his feelings of guilt for the way he had treated Vicki. He acknowledged he hadn't been as rough as he could have been and he really had controlled himself. However, that wasn't his problem. He tried to explain that the hunger he had felt for Vicki had continued to grow. It was beginning to overwhelm him.

Although trained to listen and hear more than the words used, Taylor did not offer a suggestion or absolution. Haven had to decide, in his own mind, what he wanted. If he truly believed he was over Sheri, was it unreasonable to believe that he could have fallen for a woman after spending such a short time with her. He shook his head over the suggestion that he should call or go see Vicki. He did not want to do that until he knew more about the deaths of her father, mother, and husband. In addition, he did not know if he could reconcile himself to being with a woman about whom he had so many doubts.

Taylor reluctantly agreed to spend a little time with Vicki, in the guise of getting acquainted, to see if Vicki would talk about the reasons for the way she had acted in the garage. Haven was not skilled in such matters, but he knew something was deeply troubling the young woman and he hoped Taylor could get Vicki to examine what troubled her.

When he was finally finished talking, Haven said he was going to research everyone involved in those few years of Vicki's life. Sometimes things happened to the other people in a person's life and the person has no control over those events, because those other people were acting on their own emotions and thoughts. There really is such a thing as an innocent person caught up in a web, as they are twisted and turned by the waves created by other people around them.

As Taylor typed the notes from the afternoon session, the evidence, or proof, of Haven's feelings for Vicki shouted from the words he had used. Haven loved Vicki, desperately, deeply, honestly, and passionately. It may be a new love, still unseasoned by familiarity, but it was something that would grow and turn comfortable and warm. Taylor could see it and it was only a matter of time, or the chance of another meeting with Vicki, before Haven would realize it for himself.

** ** **

As I sat at my desk, back in the corner of the detective department, I tapped each of the files I had collected. I'd done a quick look through each one as I was collecting them, just making myself familiar with each individual and the information each file contained. It took a few days to collect everything I wanted to review. Although it wasn't really an office file, there was an internal file for The Honorable Gordon Lynn Adler, which contained a general collection of newspaper articles any good file clerk would collect and assemble. There were a couple of quashed minor speeding tickets for him or his wife. There was even one for his then fifteen-year-old daughter, Victoria Lynn, for driving without a license. There were several minor complaints about a mouthy attorney and the usual collection of threats made by convicts, some little more than a nuisance, and others of genuine concern.

One newspaper article in the Judge's file described his heart attack while playing golf with his personal physician and two other judges, naming all three. Another newspaper article and the death certificate confirmed the judge's death two days later from a second massive heart attack and indicated there had been no autopsy. The signature of the attending physician was the same doctor who had given him emergency treatment on the golf course. A copy of the request for exhumation of the body, dated after his wife's death, was in the file. The denied request, in his wife's file, was signed by a judge who had been a member of the golf party the day Judge Adler suffered the first heart attack. The request appeared to come from an attorney with his eye on a political office.

There were separate files for Gwendolyn Victoria Harris Adler and Robert Corley Dawson. Although I had read the files at some point in the previous few years, I intended to pretend I had never seen any information in the files and would try to read them with fresh attention and an open mind. I did not know what I was looking for or if I was really looking for any reason other than curiosity.

In other instances, I had taken other files and tried to do a similar review to see if I could piece together a puzzle from so many pieces and reveal a clear picture. So far, I'd had only minimal success. Officially, I had onecurious file resolved and officially closed because a page of the autopsy report, when placed in it's proper sequence, showed the death was due to natural causes, not medication tampering.

There was a second file I recalled reviewing with my supervisor, which had been given back to the original investigating detectives to see if they could add any new information. Occasionally some detail, which didn't seem important at the time, travels through the mind at odd moments and a review of the original report puts that detail into focus with an amazing clarity. I'd seen a detective jerk his head back, open his mouth and mutter, "Oh shit!" when that detail fell into place.

I had just taken the last file out of the filing cabinet, and almost absent-mindedly, I picked up the phone when it beeped, "Haven."

"Damn, Church." The graveled voice of the man at the front desk barked, "Whaddya doin' up there? It's your day off. There's a lady down here ta see ya."

"A lady?" I knew I wasn't expecting anyone and few, if any, people knew I was going to spend a quiet day satisfying my curiosity.

"Yep, ID says, Victoria Lynn Adler. Address checks out and she looks just like her pick-a-ture."

"Shit!" I exclaimed. "Don't let her get away. I'll be right there. Don't log her Bates, she's personal." I closed the files on my desk and stored them back in the file cabinet and rather than take the often crowded elevator, I flew down the stairs as fast as humanly possible.

Taking one full deep breath and letting it out before I opened the automatically locking door to the main entry, I walked through and saw Vicki sitting in a chair. Beside her was a rough, badly dressed, and probably smelly, man whom I knew as an occasional informant. He would give some info to one of the detectives for a few bucks to have his nightly alcohol fix.

I walked across the room and Vicki stood when she saw me. I took her arm as she said "Haven?"

"Not here," I muttered. "Gimme me your keys."

"What?" She asked, not understanding what was going on, and I didn't blame her. I was trying to avoid saying too much. I still hadn't figured out a place in the room where it was safe to talk and avoid having microphones pick up the conversation.

I leaned toward her, "Give me your keys. I'll have your car driven home."

"Oh." Considering her tone, I sensed she understood somewhat, but I also had a feeling that it still didn't answer her question on the mystery of why I wanted her car driven home. Nonetheless, she handed them to me. I took the ignition key off her key ring and gave it to Bates at the front desk. I told him to see if he could find a couple of uniforms to do a personal favor for me, take Vicki's car to her house and to leave the key inside the locked vehicle.

Bates gave me a hard look, but I shook my head once. He, and probably half the force, already knew about Sheri and Tony and not from me telling them. Sheri was calling Tony almost every day, threatening to tell her sister about their affair, and Tony was a raging maniac. His wife was within a month of giving birth to their first baby and her two brothers would kill Tony if he so much as harmed a hair on his wife's head. One of them was a fellow officer and the other was a Deputy Sheriff. I was beginning to learn the two men had no illusions about their sister Sheri, and her previous liaisons with men, but they were protective of the much younger Gayle. I did not want to be in the middle of a family feud nor did I want another rumor started.

Taking Vicki's arm, I pushed the front door open. Walking as fast as I thought Vicki could go, I held her arm until we were down the front steps and standing on the sidewalk in front of the building.

"Okay. What?" I asked her when I turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Haven." She started to reach her hand up and touch the bite mark on my neck, but I caught her arms and held them down. Instead of standing in front of a building loaded with listening devices, cameras, and enough nosey people to ruin the reputation of anyone in town they targeted, I took Vicki's hand and walked down the sidewalk to a general parking lot about a block from the building.

When I finally had her in the passenger seat of my car and me behind the steering wheel, I leaned over the armrest and pulled Vicki's face to me. For the first time, I kissed her without trying to hurt her. I raised my head and looked at her. She still had her eyes closed and she was breathing deeply and evenly.

"Fasten your seatbelt, Baby." There it was again. I was using a term of endearment I had never used for a woman and it felt good to say it. My cock was tingling and it felt good, too. Vicki sat quietly with her hands in her lap as I drove across town.

"Where are we going?" I liked the words she used. She wasn't asking me where was I taking her or where was I going, she was including herself.

"I'm taking you home with me for a little while and then to see a friend of mine."

"A friend?"

"Yeah, Taylor and I grew up together. We were buddies when Tony came along. We let him in, making us like the three musketeers."

"Oh, okay," Vicki responded. "If he's a friend of yours, I'm sure I'll like him too."

I chuckled for a moment, but Vicki looked at me as if she didn't understand what could be so funny. I told her, "I should just wait until you meet Taylor so you can figure out how miserable I am as a comedian."

When Vicki and I walked into the house I called out, "Mom, you're going to be late."

From the back of the house came a response, "I know Haven. I can't find my keys."

I grabbed Vicki's hand and pulled her through the living room as I told Mother, "They're on the table by the front door."

Mom's surprised comment of, "Oh. They are?" was followed by, "Then maybe you know where I put my purse."

After I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table indicating Vicki should sit down, I leaned into the hall and called out, "Your handbag is hanging on a chair in the kitchen."

By that time, Vicki was grinning as we heard my mother walking down the hall, mumbling like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, "Oh, I'm late, I'm late."

Two steps into the kitchen Mother stopped, literally in mid stride, with one foot a few inches in front of the other. First, she looked at me, then she looked at Vicki, and then at me again. "Haven?"

"If you'll slow down a minute, I'll introduce you." I've seldom seen my mother so still or calm as I introduced the two women. Mother stepped forward, shook hands with Vicki, and then hugged her quickly before apologizing that she really must be on her way. She took her handbag and walked toward the front door, picked up her keys, and turned back to me holding up her right hand to show me her first two fingers were crossed.

For more than a year, no matter the amount of time Mother had spent with Sheri, she never indicated to me whether she liked or disliked Sheri. Yet, there she was, after less than a minute around Vicki, she was giving me our private signal that she approved of my date, as I had done to her for the last few years.