The Sentinel Ch. 14

Linda and her partner slipped out of the pool car and moved across the street to crouch behind Sara's car, awaiting the signal. The SWAT officer she was with would lead the attack on the door and carried a three-foot battering ram to get the job done. While his hand was cupped over his radio earpiece, he maintained eye contact with Linda so he could signal when it was time to move in.

Sara watched as John seemed to struggle with some decision he had to make before he reached over and picked up a boot. Lifting her foot with one hand, he slipped it on and slowly pushed the zipper up, letting his hand linger a second on the inside of her knee before turning to get the other.

Glancing down at John's body, Sara could see she still had his full attention as a full erection bounced around between his thighs. Lifting her other foot as if guiding John, she felt the warmth of his palm through the heel of the thigh-high boot as he guided the second boot on. Even through the heel of the thigh high, she could feel the sweat on his palm.

Both boots on and zipped, John's hands moved up the inside of her thighs again. Just before reaching their destination, Sara gave a light tap on both hands and asked sternly "Where the hell do you think you're going, asshole?"

John froze and Sara knew this would be the moment of truth. She had to take the high ground and quickly. Before he could respond, she brushed his hands out of the way, and slid off the bed to stand at the edge again towering over him.

Bringing down the whip on his bare ass, she cackled and chided, "Why look at your old, skinny, white ass. Hell, where's that black stud that was fuckin' your old lady?"

John exploded in fury as he reached for the blue triangle, hooking a finger in the top and tearing it away. Sara stayed calm as she took one step back and lashed out at John's back again. "And what ya think ya gonna do now? I don't see anything around here but that silly little pea shooter of yours."

John shook with anger as he stared at the blue thong in his fist. Rolling away from her onto the floor beside the bed where she'd pushed the gym bag earlier, he scrambled on all fours to the corner, flailing his arms to try and retrieve it.

The SWAT team tensed as they listened to her chiding remarks and the snap of the whip on bare skin. Sara had told the Captain not to come in until they heard the trigger phrase, pointing out that a naked man and a whip were both something she was more than prepared to handle.

"Now what ya gonna do you, limp-dicked, cracker? Run?"

The rage rushed through John's body as he fumbled around on the floor with the gym bag, trying to pull the zipper back. This wasn't right. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Suddenly, the whip was on his backside again, and he looked up to find suzi-q-zi towering over him, feet planted firmly, hands on her hips, looking down on him in disgust like a disappointed mother chastising her six-year-old. The sight of her small pubic strip drew his eyes like a magnet as the whip lashed across his back once again, feeding the rage to the point his vision narrowed. With one hand still on her hip, her eyes softened, slightly, before snapping the whip on his rump again, playfully this time.

Her voice softened as well as she continued the game, maintaining his rage but wanting to ease the edge enough to keep him under control. "I want you. I want you to take me now."

His hand stopped at the top of the gym bag as he gazed along her body; her breasts rose and fell slowly as she towered over him watching. Her dark swollen nipples were hypnotic as he took in the movement.

John's mind locked as it tried to deal with the situation. She was so beautiful, a goddess. He wanted her, but part of him wanted her on his terms. Letting his hand drop deeper in the bag, he could feel the cold steel of the gun as his fingers brushed against it. He felt a calm fall over him as his fingers caressed the weapon's grip. A sense of purpose came over him, and he watched as she turned away. Her naked ass rocked, and she moved back around the bed to the other side, standing again with the whip on her hip.

Pulling the gun out of the bag, he pushed himself up from the floor and turned, letting it dangle at his side as his gaze swept over her body, once more, before he performed the ultimate act of intimacy. Yes, he would show this black bitch the true meaning of control.

This was the moment. This had been their objective, and Sara steeled herself to deliver her line. Snaking her free hand across the front of her body, she let her finger slide down across her pubic strip and press in lightly. She still had control as she watched his eyes follow the light dancing of her finger tip.

"And what do you plan on doing with that gun, John?" Her voice was low and seductive as John let his mind wander across what she'd just said. While he was beginning to realize his name had been spoken and to wonder how she knew it, the door burst open, and the room filled with black-suited SWAT officers.

Sara watched as if it were playing out in slow motion. Turning away from the door, John's face contorted into an expression of anger and betrayal while his cock still bounced around in front of him. The cartoon in her head said he was the director, orchestrating this masterpiece and that was his baton. She noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead before following his moving arm down toward the gun as he raised it to point at her. She saw the detail of his thumb as it pulled the hammer back, cocking the weapon to be fired. Suddenly, a body with long, black hair tackled her from the side, knocking her down and into the wall behind the nightstand beside the bed.

The room had been a caldron of noise and confusion with no one phrase or word distinguishable, almost as if the noise itself were a blanket of lumpy silence. The loud report of two pistols firing in such close confines, both deafened her and brought the action back up to speed as she looked over and saw her boss, Linda Woo, crumpled across her naked body, covered in blood.