Sinful Pleasure on a Rainy Night

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Stranded motorist learns the men in blue aren't so scary.
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A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse.

"God damn, it!" she hissed; her son had not replaced her cell phone when she'd loaned it to him earlier that morning. Gail leaned her head on the steering wheel; her hands gripped the worn leather, her knuckles were white with frustration and rage. After several calming breaths, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and tried to remember how far back the last house had been, or how far ahead the next one was. "Too far," she whispered.

An hour passed, the rain continued to fall in hard fast sheets; only one car had gone down the county road, and it only slowed down to ogle the unfortunate fool stuck out in the storm. Gail had fired off a round of curses to their taillights as they'd grown dim. For the past hour, she'd listened to her MP3 player, toyed with her hair, braiding it -- unbraiding it, she'd sung songs that made no sense, shed a few frustrated tears, and cursed the day she'd given birth to such an inconsiderate child.

Just as quickly as she'd cursed her son, she'd taken the words back, recalling how he'd made her smile that morning. A homemade birthday cake, marking her 38th year and been presented to her along with a warm smile and gentle hug.

Gail shifted in her seat, pulled her jacket in closer around her, pressed the door lock button for the hundredth time and settled down to take a nap. She'd walk, once the rain eased up, or run -- either way she'd have to do something because it didn't look like any good Samaritans were out and about on this stormy night.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

The invasion of bright lights brought Gail out of her deep slumber. She rubbed her eyes, the tip of her nose, pushed her curly locks away from her face and sat up. Immediately she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the floating dots in front of her eyes. She lifted her hand into the air, warding off the invading illumination. Her stomach rolled violently as the red and blue police lights swirled.

"Calm down," she told herself. She never was one to be comfortable around a police officer. She wasn't a criminal and had only gotten a few traffic violations on her record, but she -- like many -- just got uneasy with a man in uniform and a gun attached to his hip.

Two shadowy figures temporarily blocked the headlamps of the police car. Gail bit her lip, turned the ignition on, just enough to power up the battery. She pressed the window down button, as soon as one of the officers were close enough that he could block most of the rain. The other, she quickly noted was running his flashlight through the windows of her vehicle, noting if there were any other passengers besides herself.

Gail's insides churned, she gripped the wheel and leaned toward the officer who had barely moved the flashlight's gleam out of her eyes. He too leaned in, bending so that his face and hers almost touched. Reflectively Gail shrank back.

"I ran out of gas and I don't have my cell on me," she quickly explained. The officer said nothing, just ran his light across the front seat, down Gail's body, noting where things were in the vehicle, and then back along the SUV's remaining doors, and interior.

"Well, come on over to the patrol car and we'll see what we can do."

Gail sighed with relief, grabbed her purse, and instinctively her keys. She locked the doors, and hurried alongside the police officer that had spoken to her. He opened the back door, ushered Gail in, before he darted to the front passenger door and sought his own refuge from the storm. The two men removed their hats, while one flicked on the interior lights, illuminating the three of them.

"Out of gas," the one officer told the other.

Gail, made note of the two men; the one who had spoken to her, was older than the driver. He had thick red hair, with a few strands of white, his face was freckled, his eyes looked to be green, but Gail really wasn't sure. The other, a younger man by perhaps ten years, maybe a few more, had dark black hair, it curled around his collar and his eyes were also dark, almost black. Gail smiled to herself, under different circumstances she would have been more than happy to engage in light banter with either of them, and had they different occupations she'd have considered flirting too.

"No phone?" the younger officer asked, his question directed at either Gail or his partner.

"I loaned it to my son," Gail answered

"Ah, teenagers and responsibility, I guess you weren't aware that they're allergic to each other," the older police officer chuckled. "My daughters were often making me curse their existence."

"Yeah, my parents had a hard time with me too," Phil commented.

"Where do you live and we'll get you home, Miss --."

Gail smiled at the older gentleman. "Gail Steelport and I don't think you want to take me home, maybe to the nearest gas station or something, but -- well I live a couple hours away. My son is at his dad's this weekend, so I decided to visit a friend. She lives about four hours from me. I had an early morning birthday party with my son, gave him a kiss goodbye, and then took off to visit with her, only to get there and find out that she wasn't home -- seems she'd forgotten and had taken off for the weekend to visit her family in Detroit. So, I hung around the city, did some shopping and well -- now I'm here."

"Phil and I are off the clock, and we were on our way out to my cabin, on Long Lake, how close are you to there? I'm Sergeant David, by the way -- David Clarke, and this is Lieutenant Phil Pitchford."

Phil nodded his head, started the car's engine and pulled back onto the road. He paused at the SUV. "Do you need anything out of there?" he asked, his gaze locking temporarily with Gail's.

She chewed on her lower lip, trying to decide if anything she'd bought was worth running back into the rain for.

"Go grab those shopping bags we saw when we ran the flashlights through her truck," David quickly ordered; Phil jumped to do his bidding. "I could tell you were thinking real hard on leaving stuff behind or not, they'd be safe, but just the same -- is it locked?" David asked, interrupting his own sentence.

Gail noted Phil standing in the rain by the door, looking back at her. "Oh crap, I forgot." She dug into her pocket, pulled the keys free, pressed the designated button and watched as the officer leaned into the back of the SUV, gathered her belongings and hurried back to the car.

He opened her door, pushed her bags in and dashed back to the Suburban to close its door. She pushed the lock button on her key fob. Embarrassment at being a "bother" to the police officers caused her skin to take on a more heated flush. She pressed her cool palms to her cheeks, and apologized to Phil for being such a pain in the ass. He laughed, waved off her apologies, and resumed their trek down the road. Gail glanced back at her abandoned vehicle, making note -- as best she could -- where it would be when she made plans to retrieve it.

"You know, if you wouldn't mind, and if you guys have a spare gas can in your car, then maybe a quick trip to the gas station would be all it'll take to get me going."

Phil shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to him," he nodded his head to the Sergeant. "But if you're close to the lake, we may as well take you home; the next filling station is several miles in the opposite direction. You're vehicle will be fine. I'll put a call in to dispatch and let them know what's going on."

Gail smiled; she really didn't want to mess with the SUV any more tonight. The thought of being at home, relaxing in her tub, snuggled up in her blankets, reading a good book -- all of these things were so much more on her priority list right now than her truck. "Okay, home it is. I live about 45 minutes from the lake, and --."

"Hell Phil, I just remembered, Lucy's gonna call the cabin in a bit," David turned to look back at Gail, "My daughter's supposed to be landing at O'Hare and I told her to call the lake house. We'll need to stop there first, and then I or Phil will take you home."

"That's fine," Gail agreed, "I hate being a bother already, there is no way I'll keep you from your daughter."

David smiled, glanced at Phil, turned back around and settled back into his seat.

The drive for Gail seemed to take forever, granted she knew it wasn't the two men in general that had made it a long drive, it was the lateness of the hour, the weariness of the evening's fretting activities, her mind traveling in a million different directions.

David and Phil had both been more than willing to keep her engaged in their conversations. She learned that David had two daughters, he was widowed, and had been on the force "far too long" and Phil was single, no children, and currently between girlfriends -- though he had joked dating either one of Sergeant Clarke's daughters would be something he'd consider. This had earned the Lieutenant a sharp slap to the back of his head. Gail had chuckled, and both men had complimented her on her laugh. This had led to a blush, a timid thank-you and then what Gail could only describe as awkward silence.

Gail's interest in her surroundings peeked up when she noted the turn they'd made. The road quickly became rough gravel and the trees seemed to grow denser around them. She sat up and looked out her window. The rain had eased up considerably. A few lights twinkled through the trees, some reflecting off the water. "Long Lake?" she asked.

"Yep," David answered. "I inherited this patch of land and the cabin, as well as a couple outbuildings back when my dad passed, and he got it from his dad and so on -- four generations deep."

"Nice," Gail responded, as she watched the headlights illuminate the path before them. Phil took another turn, then another before pressing deeper into the woods. "I bet this place would sell for a fortune," she commented, more to herself than her chauffeurs.

"You're into real estate?" Phil asked.

She grinned big. "Yes, I am. I just got my license, so I'm anxious to sell something," she glanced at David, "but don't worry, I won't even try to pitch my idea to you."

The two men chuckled. Gail settled back into her seat and soon caught sight of the lake cabin that David was so proud of. It was small, homey and looked as if it had been cherished. One of the outbuildings had a motion sensor light attached to it, and when Phil pulled up, the car triggered it.

A light flickered on, beaming rays into the night, allowing the porch as well as a small section of the yard to glow. Gail took in a few details that could be made out with the added illumination. A porch swing, a flower pot, several piles of stacked wood, even a bird feeder seemed to welcome the small entourage into the promising warmth of the cabin.

"Let's go; the storm seems to be moving on, so maybe we can get in there, warm up a bit, before heading back out," David said, before opening his door, and making his way to Gail's.

She waited, and took the offered hand that David put to her. Her fingers curled around his; she noted the warmth, as well as the small sliver of excitement that seemed to skate along her skin. Gail shivered.

"Better get her inside. She's freezing," Phil commented. He locked the car and hurried toward the cabin. David and Gail were quick to follow.

"Here," David edged Gail over to Phil, "keep her warm, while I find the damn keys."

Phil gently took both of Gail's arms and pulled her to him. He pressed her against his chest. She shivered again. His jacket was damp, but the moisture was lost to her. All she felt was searing heat as his fingers held her arms and her back pressed into him.

"You are a cold one, aren't you?" Phil whispered in her ear. She gently trembled again. His warm breath danced across her damp curls. A whimper escaped her lips; Gail decided to play along with being cold, instead of admitting to herself that the two men had stirred an ember inside her that was threatening to explode.

"Here we go." David pushed the cabin door open, reached in and flicked on the light switch. Immediately not only the porch light came on, but so did the cabin's living room and kitchen. "I had the electricity installed the first summer after my father's death. He loved roughing it; don't get me wrong, I do to, but well -- I like modern amenities as well."

"I'm sure Miss Steelport appreciates you having running water and power, but you still haven't broken down and installed the heating or cooling unit. I'll build up a fire, Miss Steelport - - ."

"Gail -- please call me Gail."

Lieutenant Pitchford smiled. "Gail, the bathroom is down the hall to the right. I'll get a fire going and," he paused, thought a moment then shrugged his head toward outside, "those bags have any clothes in them? Yours are still damp and I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in something dry."

Gail laughed. "Of course there are clothes in there, I'm a woman, I'd been shopping, and it was my birthday -- so believe me, there are a lot of clothes out there."

Phil chuckled, as did David.

"I'll go grab them, you get the fire going," David said. He darted back outside, while Gail headed to the bathroom, and Phil readied the fireplace.

Gail shut the bathroom door behind her, quickly peeled off her wet shoes, soaked socks, and damp jeans. She shimmed out of her panties, eyed the commode and quickly took care of her personal needs before pulling off her blouse and her bra. The sound of the two men shuffling around the cabin made her self-conscious of her naked, chilled state. A thick plush towel hung on a wooden bar. She grabbed it wrapped it around herself, and opened the bathroom door.

"Um... do you have those bags?" she called down the hall.

"Yeah, anything particular you want?" a man's voice answered back. She heard footsteps coming closer, peeked out again and welcomed David with a shy grin.

"There's a Macy's bag, it has a few things, and then the one from L.L. Bean will have a few things as well," she said.

"Okay," said David, he turned to leave then stopped when Gail added -- "oh, and the one from Victoria's Secret." She blushed when the older man turned back to look at her, his lips were lifted in a smirk, and his eyes carried a touch of humor.

"Okay," he said, this time more jovial than before. Gail giggled, and shut the door, leaving her knights in shining armor to their own devices.

She heard the phone ring, and knew David's daughter had most likely called. The shower seemed to call out to her, its water promising to completely remove the chill that was rooted in her bones. Her skin was hot, her face flushed, but the heat of the two men's touch could not penetrate the frozen temperature of rain soaked clothes.

Gail knew without asking that David wouldn't mind her showering while he took his call. The towel was returned to the bar, and steam soon filled the small room's interior. Gail slipped in behind the curtain and let the water fall in satiny sheets.

Her hands roamed through her thick brown curls; she lifted them, making sure the heat soaked through to her scalp. Goosebumps slowly began to disappear as her skin and bones became a more normal temperature. Gail pushed the water from her face, looked around and noticed the absence of shampoo. "Well, damn."

"Looking for this?"

Gail squeaked, and pulled the curtain aside. Her eyes fell on Phil's grinning features. In one hand he held a towel, in the other a bottle of shampoo. "I didn't hear you knock?" she admitted before taking the shampoo.

Phil shrugged. "I may not have knocked loud enough."

"I guess not. You don't think David's gonna mind me being in here? Is he?"

The Lieutenant laughed. "A naked woman, who is single and sexy as Hell -- in his shower -- um, no, the Sergeant won't mind at all."

Gail grinned. "Sexy as Hell?" She noted Phil's demeanor change. Her eyes blinked several times, she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

"Yes, sexy as Hell," Phil repeated the words. His gaze locked and held with hers.

"Thank-you," she whispered before closing the curtain and standing silently behind the thin plastic shield.

"Um, do you mind -- I need to..." Phil's discomfort was apparent in his words.

"Oh, no, go ahead, just well -- warn me before you flush."

The officer chuckled.

Gail tried to think of her hair, shampoo and bubbles, while the sound of Phil relieving his self added to the noise of the shower's running water. Eventually, his warning came, followed by the sound of the sink running. The muffled shuffling of his feet and the quiet "sorry for the interruption, thanks and goodbye" confirmed that he was taking his leaves of her.

Gail was slightly mortified by being caught in a man's shower, without permission, as well as having to listen to another man taking care of his own intimate needs. She quickly finished washing her hair, and rinsing away the soap. The thought of looking for conditioner didn't even cross her mind. She made a quick check of her surroundings, shut the water off and hurriedly began to rub herself dry.

A quick tap on the door brought her up short. Gail's gaze shot to the door handle. She watched it turn. Quickly she grabbed it, and pulled it open just enough to peek around it. David stood with a pile of clothes.

"I hope you don't mind, I went through the bags, and picked out a few things," he said.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. Thanks," she said, before grabbing the items and tucking herself back behind the safety of the door.

What was happening to her? She asked herself. The two men had done nothing untoward to her and they hadn't really done anything to say they wanted to either. Both had been gentlemen, and both had bent over backwards to help her. Even now, if she were to admit to herself, she was liking the attention, but really she was behaving like a virgin school girl trapped in the woods with two woman eating he-mans.

Gail shook off her concerns and picked through the clothes David had brought. He'd brought her a pink sweater, a white tank top, as well as a white skirt. She blushed when she came across the matching bra and thong set as well as the stockings, and garters.

"Funny," she giggled, shook her head in amusement and again chastised herself for the fluttering butterflies that showed up in her stomach. Another knock on the door, brought her out of her musings.

The knob turned and a hand snuck through. "David said, you'd need these too." Phil's hand held a pair of white stilettos with shimmering rhinestones.

"Oh did he?" Gail laughed softly, "I just bet he did." She took the shoes and pushed the door shut. "No more interruptions!" she called out in a humorous voice. A soft chuckle answered her before the sound of retreating footsteps told her she was again alone.

Gail took a deep breath, eyed the clothes with suspicion and then proceeded to dry her hair with another towel. Her long brown locks, hung in thick curls down her back. She'd done well in getting most of the water out, and was quite pleased with her appearance.

The flirtatious thoughts she had surrounding the two men had brought a color to her cheeks and lips that had been drained earlier by the circumstances surrounding her. Now though, not only her face seemed more joyous, but so did her eyes. A flicker of mischievousness, she hadn't seen since her divorce reared itself up and made her lick her lips in anticipation -- anticipation for what, Gail really didn't know.