Bombshell Dolly Nail

"Do you know of anyone harassing Rose? Did she have any obsessed fans?"

"She had pushy fans, but the hotel security took care of them without any trouble. Like I told Chief Brooks, what happened to Rose couldn't be work-related without us knowing. It had to be personal. She let someone she knew into her room. That's my best guess."

A frustrated sigh escaped my nostrils at that point. I honestly thought Lenard would be more helpful. He was either lying through his teeth or being blatantly honest. He wasn't showing a hint of anxiety. He was more interested in flirting with me than anything. If I weren't so frustrated and hurt from losing Rose, I would have been making out with him on the couch by that point. That's when I realized I needed to be careful and play it cool. Few people knew how close I was with Rose. We never spent time together at the hotel. That worked to my advantage.

"Thanks, Lenard. You've been helpful. This case is proving more perplexing every day."

"I'm sorry I can't be more helpful. Most of us are still in shock. I've never seen so much blood," he said as he stared at the scotch in his glass.

I looked at him in surprise after that remark. Had I misjudged his behavior when we first met? My rage often turned everyone into an enemy. It's hard to know how a person will react to seeing something traumatic. Lenard's reaction may have been to block out the horror until he could process it. My psychiatrist, Pacey Keller, often helped me dissect people's reactions, including my own. I would have to pay him a visit sooner than later. Thunder rumbled outside as rain began tapping the patio doors. I was glad to have my umbrella waiting for me in the lobby.

"How are you doing, Lenard? You witnessed the aftermath of a brutal murder, and it was someone you had known and worked with for years. I've been inconsiderate about that fact. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Dolly. Thank you for your concern. You're the first person to ask how I felt about it," he said as he looked at me with tired eyes. "My nightmares involve finding bloody bodies all over the hotel now. This is my home and my business. When something terrible happens here, it affects every aspect of my life. I can't go somewhere else to get away from what I saw. I have to live and work with it. I've been drinking more than usual since that night."

That confession explained his behavior, and I suddenly felt bad for him. He was self-medicating and indulging in what he enjoyed in an attempt to forget what he saw.

"Life throws shit in your face sometimes, Lenard. There's no getting around it. A few months of treating wounded men on the front lines in France hardened me more than I realized. I know an excellent psychiatrist if you need to talk about what you saw. Doctor Keller helped me put my life back together after a bomb ripped my insides out and killed my best friend. People are tougher than we give ourselves credit for, but sometimes we need help finding our strength again," I said as I placed my hand over his and squeezed it.

"That's some poetic wisdom right there, Dolly. You're beautiful inside and out, even when you swear."

"I like to think that, but it's not true."

"Nonsense. You're more beautiful than any woman on that wall. Why would you think otherwise?" he demanded.

"You haven't seen my scars."

"I don't care about scars. They're marks of honor, if anything."

"I'm glad you think that, but I still wish I didn't have them or the memories of how I got them."

He looked at me in surprise after that. Then he sighed and nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be inconsiderate."

"I know, Lenard. It's alright. War is an unforgiving bitch."

He smirked at that remark. I think he enjoyed how much I cursed. My mouth was usually foul, but I tried to keep it under control when I was working.

"Dolly, would you think less of me if I asked to see your scars?"

That caught me by surprise, causing me to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"You're the first person to ask me that, and I don't think less of you for it. Unless you're using it as an excuse to get between my legs."

"Maybe," he said with a smirk. "But, honestly, I want you to realize that you are stunningly beautiful. War scars aren't going to scare a man away from a woman like you."

He seemed terribly sincere about his intentions as he searched my eyes, and part of me wanted to think he was genuine. I was suddenly feeling up for a character test. Lenard would likely show me his true character if I pretended to be vulnerable. Predators pounced on insecurities, and I wanted to know what kind of predator Lenard Coleman was. Was he a horny lecher or a manipulative romantic? I considered the latter more dangerous. Manipulative romantics often turned out to be psychopaths.

I took a deep breath and slowly stood, faking as much insecurity as I could muster. Lenard watched me solemnly as I slowly unbuttoned my blouse and opened it, revealing the white lace lingerie that was squeezing my breasts together. The beginnings of red scars were showing around my belly button. I watched his admiring gaze as I unlatched my skirt and slowly lowered it off my thighs, baring the collage of angry red scars crisscrossing my lower abdomen. I hated to look at it. The skin was bumpy and discolored where the flesh was taken away by shrapnel.

Lenard gulped as he took in the damage. The scars looked painful even though they were only a reminder of the pain. He took a deep breath and suddenly slid off the couch and knelt in front of me. My heart rate increased to have him so close in such an intimate position. To my surprise, he reached up and held my thighs as he brought his lips to the worst of my scars. He kissed them. He was a smooth weasel indeed. A pleasant shudder ran through my body from the feel of his warm lips and breath on my stomach. He was being a horny lecher and a manipulative romantic, and I liked it. I had lost track of who was playing who at that point.

"Are you easy, Dolly?" he asked in between wet kisses as his nose caressed my belly button.

"It depends on the man," I confessed as I looked down and met his pretty eyes.

He smiled and reached for the top of my lacy panties and slowly began peeling them down, exposing more skin to his lips. He pulled them down until he revealed my blond mound and the scar that almost cut it in half.

"Are you easy for me?" he whispered before his tongue found its way to my clit and lapped over it, making me shudder and wobble.

"I guess I am," I breathed with my heart pounding.

"Mmm, you smell and taste delicious. Did you bathe in vanilla cream?" he groaned as he nuzzled the neatly trimmed hair on my mound. He was savoring me.

"New soap," I whispered.

"It's nice. Forgive me if I drool," he said before he pushed his tongue between my lips and lapped through the moisture gathered there.

My knees went weak as tingles raced through my cunt. I was shamefully wet and indulging in something I told myself to stay away from, dangerous men. Thunder rumbled outside again, putting me on edge. I forced myself to ignore it. It was just a storm, not a bomb. My life and death experience in the war had damaged my sense of self-preservation, and Rose's death made it worse. She was the closest thing I had to a family after Becky died. What I was doing with Lenard was self-medicating and self-destructive. He was a dangerous distraction to numb the pain for a little while.

Lenard's fingers suddenly slid inside me and made my inner muscles twitch. It felt a little too good. His tongue was still lovingly massaging my clit as he licked into me, trying to taste me more. I groaned and pulled his hair, letting him know he was doing an excellent job. I'm sure he had practiced with the women on the wall. Doctor Keller would give me an ear-full about my behavior later that week.

"Mmm," I groaned as his fingers and tongue slowly massaged me closer to orgasm.

The man had skills, and I thoroughly appreciated them. I gently pulled his face harder against my cunt. He took the hint and lavished my clit with fast, methodical licks and fingered me deeper, pushing me over the edge. I gasped and pulled his hair as I rode his tongue and fingers through an incredible orgasm. He groaned in approval as he licked up my extra arousal. I was smiling and twitching with every gentle stroke.

"Did you enjoy that, Dolly?" he asked in between licks.

"Mmhm," I moaned. My body was still tingling.

"I'm glad. May I have the privilege of penetrating you?" he asked as he climbed to his feet and looked into my eyes.

"After that orgasm, you can fuck me however you like," I said and wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to mine.

He smiled against my kiss before his tongue went into my mouth. I could taste my own sweetness mingled with scotch. He quickly removed his belt and freed his erection from his clothes before he guided me over to the couch. He pushed me onto it and climbed between my legs in one swift motion. He shoved his thick cock into me before I realized it. We both groaned in delight as he came to rest deep inside me.

"You are beautiful and perfect, Dolly, and you feel like hot, slippery heaven," he whispered as he gently rocked inside me, stimulating my swollen cunt with his rock-hard shaft.

"Thank you, Lenard, but you don't have to flatter me anymore. You're welcome to make me feel like a dirty slut if you want," I said and squeezed him with my inner muscles, making him smile.

"Gladly," he sighed and started fucking me feverishly.

"Ah! That's so good," I groaned as he pounded inside me. Being fucked vigorously after an orgasm felt exceptionally good.

I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him needfully, enjoying his heady taste and smell. Lenard was a little too good to be true when it came to lovemaking. Regret would likely find me before I knew it, but for the moment, my cunt was tingling close to another fit of pleasure. He was hard as a rock as he jarred our bodies with his passionate fucking. My inner muscles hadn't been massaged like that in a while. Suddenly, Lenard tensed and groaned as an orgasm rocked through his cock. The hot flood of cum inside me pushed me over the edge again. I gasped and squirmed under him as pleasure worked through my body. Lenard smiled and kissed me as our hearts pounded against each other. He studiously fucked me through the trembling spasms until I was spent. Then we relaxed in satisfaction. I ran my fingers through his hair and breathed him in. I had not been expecting our meeting to take such an erotic turn.

"That was wonderful, Dolly. You should visit me more often," he whispered as he raised up and looked into my eyes.

"I might have to after that demonstration. You're a rare find, Lenard," I whispered before I kissed him again.

He moaned softly and began to move inside me more, but a knock at the door stole his attention.

"Damn, what time is it?" he grumbled as he looked at his watch. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Dolly. I didn't realize our appointment would go this long. You know the old saying, time flies when you're having fun," he sighed and climbed off of me.

I watched as he began tidying himself up in preparation for his next appointment. Once he was dressed, he looked at me expectantly as I still lay on the couch with his cum dripping out of me.

"Hmm, that's how it is then," I sighed and crawled off the couch to fetch my clothes.

"What do you mean, Dolly?" he asked as he helped me dress by retrieving my jacket.

"I was a fun appointment, and now it's over. Is your next appointment another beautiful woman that you intend to fuck?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes as he helped me shimmy back into my jacket.

"That's not exactly your business, Ms. Nail. I was under the impression you enjoyed our appointment. Did you not?"

"I did, but now I know your words are disingenuous. Were you flattering me for a quick fuck, or were you flattering me because you wanted to fuck an exceptionally beautiful woman?"

"Don't insult yourself or me, Ms. Nail. I only fuck exceptionally beautiful women, and you are one of the finest. Thank you for the wonderful experience. I won't soon forget it. Now, if you don't mind, I have an empty position to fill," he said plainly, then he opened the door and greeted the beautiful young woman standing outside.

I rolled my eyes as he escorted her in and motioned me out. The cute brunette that walked in looked at me in wonder for a moment. She knew a ten when she saw one. I enjoyed having that effect on men and women.

"Ah, you're the next lucky woman," I announced with a smirk. "You might want to take your skirt off before you sit down. That material looks like it stains easily. Mr. Coleman left a mess on the couch," I whispered with a wink before I sauntered out the door. The look on Lenard's face was priceless.

Chapter 3: Doctor Pacey Keller

It was rainy and gray as I left the Dahlia Hotel. I felt slightly abused by Lenard. Don't get me wrong, I walked right into his advances, and he didn't disappoint me, but being rushed out at the end made the interlude feel cheap. My talk with Doctor Keller was long overdue. Thunder rumbled overhead as I passed my office and my apartment. The rain poured by the bucketfuls for the next three blocks.

Doctor Pacey Keller's reception room was warm, dry, and empty until I stepped in and tossed my dripping umbrella in the stand by the door. My heels were soaked, so they went next to the umbrella stand to drip as well. The brown furniture and dark green wallpaper were simple and relaxing. Pacey didn't need frilly Venetian couches or fancy scotches to impress me. He was the most intelligent man I had ever met, and he often helped me dissect difficult cases from the safety of his office.

"You better be here, Pacey," I grumbled as I approached the inner door, preparing to knock.

The inner door was kept locked when the outer door was open. There was a reception desk in the corner, but Pacey was often too distracted to hire a secretary. His method for keeping appointments needed improvement. His morning lectures at the university kept him fed and the rent paid better than his patients.

Right as my knuckle was about to hit the door, I heard laughter behind it and aborted my knock. I heard a male and female voice, and the mood sounded flirty. The apprehension that seized me at that moment was surprising. I cursed under my breath and hurried away from the door, quickly sitting in a chair to my right and picking up a discarded newspaper. The paper prevented my immediate notice as the cheerful duo stepped through the door, laughing and smiling about some joke they were privy to.

My right eye was ever-so-slightly peeking around the edge of the paper enough to see a beautiful dark-haired woman in a pale blue skirt and jacket. Her style and body shape were similar to mine, but she was a borderline eight in my book. I didn't like how Pacey was smiling at her. Pacey looked stunning as usual. His dark brown hair was a mess, and his clothes were wrinkled, adding to his careless charm. The combination of his big brown eyes, cute baby face, and honest smile made me worry about him when it came to women like me.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Hanna. Thanks for answering the ad and catching the typos. I made it painfully obvious that I need help," Pacey chuckled.

"Thank you for the interview, Doctor Keller. I don't know much about psychiatry, but I can make appointments, answer phones, and take notes. I can even straighten ties when needed," she said with a wink as she reached over and adjusted his. The funny thing was, Pacey never wore ties unless he felt obligated to do so, like when conducting a job interview.

The excess blush that appeared on the doctor's cheeks caused me to involuntarily cough. His eyes jumped in my direction before I hid behind the paper again. He knew it was me.

"Uh, thank you, Hanna. I hate to send you off in the rain, but I apparently have an appointment that I forgot about. You're welcome to wait here as long as you need," he offered in a more professional tone.

"A little rain isn't a problem. I hope to hear from you soon. Goodbye, Doctor Keller," she called as she retrieved her umbrella and let herself out.

She seemed in a hurry to leave after noticing my long legs under the paper. Once the door was closed and the room was silent, I let out a tired sigh.

"Dolly, are you alright?" Pacey asked as he walked over and sat down next to me.

"I've been better," I confessed as I closed the paper and dropped it in the chair beside me. My mind and body suddenly felt exhausted.

"That bad, huh?" he sighed as he reached up and loosened his tie.

"Sorry to kill the mood. It's been a long day, and I'm not proud of it. Hanna seems... friendly," I added, trying to hide my disdain. Pacey saw right through it.

"Hmm, you don't like her. Interesting," he mused as he observed my appearance and discarded shoes. "Did you splash in every puddle along the way?"

"I think I did."

"Come on back and relax. Tea or coffee?" he asked as he stood and opened the door for me.

"Hot tea would be splendid."

"Oh, it was that kind of day. Something is amiss when Bombshell Dolly Nail refuses coffee."

Doctor Keller's office was as simple and sleepy as his waiting room. His consultation couch and armchairs were clad in brown leather. A caramel-stained oak desk sat adjacent to the window. The window offered a view of the gray sky and the rain-drenched street below. A tall bookshelf sat behind the desk and held more books than I would ever read in my lifetime. An oil painting of a whimsical French garden adorned the wall opposite the desk. The painting was a reminder of the beautiful things in life, and I often stared at it while Pacey wrote in his notebook.

I reclined on the consultation couch to brood about my day as Pacey heated water in a yellow teapot in the tiny kitchen attached to his office. Like me, Pacey's living space overlapped with his workspace. It was a convenient setup if one could tolerate it.

"So, Dolly, what brings you to me in this Biblical second flood?" Pacey inquired as he gave me a steaming cup of tea and took his seat in the opposite armchair.

"I'm disgusted with myself and need to share my misery. The weather matches my mood," I mumbled into my cup.

He gave me a familiar smile as he set his teacup on the side table and retrieved his notebook. He flipped it open and pulled a short pencil out of his front pocket. I watched his elegant fingers as he began writing. It was a comforting familiarity. The world seemed better when Pacey wrote about me in his little notebook. He could have been scribbling pictures of dinosaurs for all I knew. The action was still comforting.

"What disgusting thing have you done to cause this mood?" he asked without looking up.

I smirked at his question. He knew me too well.

"I let Lenard Coleman fuck me."

The shuffling of Pacey's pencil stopped at that revelation. I knew he was looking at me at that point, so I gave him a guilty glance. His handsome brow was lifted in either revulsion or mild shock. It could have been both.

"Dolly, why didn't you come to see me earlier this week?" he demanded in disappointment.

"Shit," I sighed, knowing what that question meant. "Chief Brooks paid you a visit on my behalf, didn't he?"

"He's your friend, and he was worried. Rightly so after what you just told me. I was expecting you to confess another murder, but fucking a Coleman brother takes the cake. It takes the cake and throws it out the fucking window. What were you thinking?"

I loved it when Pacey cursed. It was extremely rare for him, and I was the only person that caused it that I was aware of.

"I felt like shit, so I invited something dirty to touch me and cum in me. Why is that so hard to believe?" I snapped back.