Fifty Dollars a Night

"I was getting ready for bed. Sorry."

"My bed is full of clean clothes."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. My jeans and top were dirty, and you had some stuff in your hamper, so I washed it all. I ironed it too, but I couldn't find any hangers, so I folded them up and put them on your bed."

"Sandy, you didn't have to do that."

"I know, but it seemed such a waste to just wash my stuff. I did the laundry at home all the time after Mom was gone. It wasn't anything all that hard to do."

The next morning, Sandy had pancakes and sausage on the stove when I got up. When I asked her where she found the sausage and pancake mix she grinned.

"Daddy always liked pancakes and sausage, and I got to thinking you might too. I wasn't really hungry at lunch yesterday, so I used the money to buy this instead."

Sandy got her job that day, and her hours were about the same as mine. I'd drive her to the restaurant on my way into the station, and pick her up after the end of my shift. She was making good money. The restaurant catered to a lot of business people, and that meant she was tipped well. She was saving most of her money, so I figured it wouldn't be long before she left.

I knew I was going to miss her. Every day it seemed I found something she'd done to make my life better. I'd notice the dust was gone from the bookshelf, or that the kitchen floor had been mopped, things I did only when I was expecting some of the guys over for a beer. The bathrooms sparkled like the ones in the TV commercials. And there was always her cooking.

On weekends, she made three meals a day, and I was finding my uniforms fit a bit tighter. Then there was Thanksgiving.

I had to work Thanksgiving night, so I'd planned to miss that holiday like I missed most of the others. By then, Sandy knew my work schedule, and said she guessed she'd miss it too.

I woke up the Friday after Thanksgiving to the smell of roasting turkey. I still don't know where she hid the bird, but she'd bought one and everything else for the turkey dinner I remembered having when I was a kid. When she brought out the pecan pie, I was already stuffed to the gills. If I'd had to work that night, I don't know how I'd have managed to wedge my belly into the squad car.

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Three weeks before Christmas, the bottom fell out of my life. The night before, a Sunday night, Sandy had treated me to a pot roast that was out of this world. She followed it up with a chocolate cake that threatened to put me in a coma. The next morning, after a breakfast of toast and omelets, Sandy told me she was off, and was going to look for an apartment.

When I drove to the station, I was more than a little depressed, but I understood. She had her own life to live, and I hadn't given her any reason to stay. It wasn't that I didn't find her attractive and fun to be with. There was just the age difference, and that difference kept telling me to keep some distance between us. Besides, I wouldn't ever put another woman through the waiting, the fear that I wouldn't come home some night. That drove Alice and me apart. Another one of those would be more than I could stand.

I suppose it was thinking about her leaving that took my mind off the driver of the pickup I'd stopped for speeding. He pulled down a side street and into an alley when I flashed my lights, and I'd run his plate before getting out of the car. Nothing came back except a couple of traffic tickets, so I didn't think there was much danger.

I don't like stopping trucks. The windows are high enough I can't see what the driver and passenger are doing with their hands. The guy had rolled down his window as soon as he pulled over, and when I walked up the side of the truck, I asked him to get out. When he opened the door, I saw an open beer can sitting on the floor.

They told me later they'd found a bag of meth under the truck seat, but I'd probably have never looked for that if he'd just cooperated. From what I knew at the time, the worst he was looking at was a DUI, and he'd have gotten off with at most a couple of days in jail, a fine and a mandatory DUI class. He might have lost his license, but most courts would have given him a restricted one so he could get to work and back.

Every time I remember it, it happens in slow motion. He gets out of the truck, says something I can't hear, and it's after that I see the gun. He's pointing it at me. Training makes me turn sideways as I draw my Smith, but there's a blast and I feel the bullet smash into my leg before I'm on target. There's another loud blast and that bullet hits me in the neck. Still in slow motion, I fall to the ground while the guy gets back in his truck and drives off down the alley. After that, everything goes black.

I woke up in the hospital with people rushing all around me. A cute little nurse smiled at me, told me I was going to be OK, and that they were taking me to surgery. I remember incredible pain, and then everything went black again. The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed and Harry, my captain, was smiling at me.

He said a woman had seen it all from her kitchen window and called 911 as soon as she heard the shots. The paramedics said if she'd waited five minutes more, I'd have bled to death. Everybody at the station was pulling for me, and that I should rest and get well. Then he left.

They must have been pumping some really good drugs into me, because the only other things I remember from those first days are little snapshots of nurses, doctors... and Sandy. I'd see her there, smiling at me, when I came partially out of the daze of the drugs, but I'd drop back into the mist before I could really be sure she was there or if it was just my imagination.

I didn't know when they moved me out of intensive care and into a room, but I woke up with a nurse messing with the sheets of my bed. Things were still pretty fuzzy, but I was at least awake. The nurse finished tucking me in, and then left. I was in the process of feeling sorry for myself when I heard her voice.

"You had me pretty scared there for a while, but they say you'll be able to go home in a couple of weeks or so."

"Sandy?"

"Yeah, it's me. I just stopped in for a minute before I went to work. I don't know if you like flowers or not, but I brought you some. They're on the table."

My mouth was dry and it came out as a croak.

"How long?"

Sandy moved toward my head, and I felt a straw brush my lips.

"The nurse said you'd probably want some water. Here, but not too much. You got shot three days ago, and you've been in intensive care since they brought you in. Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you your billfold and other stuff is in the drawer. "

"How bad?"

Sandy took a deep breath.

"I don't know. They won't tell me anything; because I'm not any relation to you, but I'm sure you're going to be OK. If you weren't, they wouldn't have moved you to a room."

We talked for a little while. She was on break at work when the shooting made the news, so she called the station to see if it was me. Of course, they wouldn't tell her anything, so that told her it was. She said she'd called the hospital every day until they finally told her I could have visitors. When Sandy said she had to leave for work, I gave her my car keys and told her she might as well use it since I wouldn't be for a while.

At about three that afternoon, the doctor who did the surgery came in. He asked about pain and checked my bandages, then explained my injuries.

"You're a lucky guy. The bullet in your neck would have killed you if it had been a millimeter further in. It nicked your vein and you almost bled out. We sewed it up and filled you back up with blood, and that fixed that.

The one in your leg was another story. Went through your thighbone and shattered it in the process. You're now the proud owner of a titanium partial femur, and you'll set off every metal detector you walk through. You'll have to have some therapy, and you won't be running any marathons, but you'll be able to walk again. That's about it, well, except for one thing. Who's the little brunette who's been here since you came in?"

"I guess you mean Sandy. She's...a friend. She told me she came as soon as I could have visitors."

"Well, she lied then, because we had to keep chasing her out of intensive care. She left, every day, right after noon, but about midnight, she'd be back, asking if she could see you. She slept in the lounge every night. We thought she might be your sister, but..."

The doctor gave me a knowing smile.

"She said she was your girlfriend."

"No, Sandy's...she's not really my girlfriend. She's more like family I guess...she rents a room at my house and cleans and cooks for me."

The doctor grinned again.

"You hesitated a little too long there. I think maybe you're not exactly telling me the truth either. Anyway, you mind if we start answering her questions about you? She's driving us nuts asking how you are and if you'll be all right."

"No, go ahead. I don't mind if she knows."

The next afternoon, Harry came back to see me.

"Mark, I've put you on disability leave. You'll keep getting your check for six months, and the doc says you'll be out of here long before that. When you feel better, you can put in your papers for retirement."

"Retirement? I'm not gonna retire. I'm coming back to work."

Harry's voice became almost gentle.

"Mark, you know the policy on physical requirements. With that leg, you'll never be able to qualify. I'll ask if there's anything at the academy, but I doubt there will be."

He forced a laugh.

"Half the guys on the force would love to be retired, me included. Well, you take it easy. Some of us will be by to see you once in a while. Oh, and that woman who keeps calling me...Sandy I think her name is...tell her I can't say anything about you, OK? I think she's really worried about you, but you know the policy about that."

Two days later, they got me out of bed and into a wheel chair. In four, they had me standing up with a walker. Sandy and I spent the rest of the week walking up and down the hall every day. It hurt like hell, and it made me tired, but I was determined to prove the Captain wrong. In another week, I could walk with a cane. I was slow, but it was walking. The day before Christmas, they decided to let me go home after Sandy learned how to change my bandages.

I took me a while to get from the drive to my front door, and Sandy was really in a hurry for some reason. That reason became apparent when I got inside. There was a little Christmas tree in one corner of the living room, complete with lights, ornaments and an angel on top.

Sandy was proud of it.

"I haven't had a Christmas tree since Daddy passed, so I bought one. It's just a little one, but it's still a Christmas tree. It makes me feel good."

"I like it. I haven't had one since...for a long time either, but you need to save your money. I'll pay you back for it."

"You'll do nothing of the kind. All you're going to do is get well, and I'll be here to help."

"You didn't find an apartment?"

"I haven't looked since you got hurt. I thought you'd need some help when you came home, and if I was still living here, it'd be easier."

"The department insurance will pay for a nurse. You don't have to take care of me."

"You didn't have to let me stay with you that night, either...but you still did."

I looked at her standing there in her jeans and sweater. Sandy was smiling, but I was seeing more than a smile. I was seeing a young woman who had already made me feel like a king, and now that I could barely walk, she was going to help me more. There was also a feeling that made me glad she was still with me.

"Sandy...I don't know why you do what you do, but if I could do it without falling down, I think I'd hug you right now."

"Maybe I could hug you instead?"

Sandy's cheek reached only to my chest, and she pressed that cheek into me as tightly as she did the rest of her body. I wrapped her in my free arm and held her close, closer than I thought she'd probably like, but all she did was hug me tighter.

"Mark, I was so worried. I'm glad you're home."

Without thinking, I kissed the top of her head. Sandy pushed gently away from me and looked into my eyes. I couldn't stop looking back at her. She seemed different that night, and all of a sudden, the spread in our ages didn't seem to matter quite as much.

"Sandy, I don't know what to say."

"Then say you'll kiss me. I'd like it if you'd kiss me."

"I'm so much older than you."

"I don't care about that. I just care about you."

I almost fell down again when our lips met, so the kiss was kind of short. Sandy giggled.

"I'll never be able to pick you up if you fall down. Let's sit on the couch."

Her lips were so soft against mine. Her hand found the back of my head and stoked my hair softly. Sandy broke the kiss, then kissed me again, this time with a passion I'd not felt in years. It was instinct, I suppose, that made me hold her tight and relish the feeling of the curves she was trying to mold to my body. When she pulled away, she smiled.

"I have some Christmas presents for you, but you have to wait until tomorrow morning to open them, all except one. When I was a little girl, we always got to open one present on Christmas Eve, so you get to open one now."

"Oh, where is it?"

"It was too big to fit under the tree, so I put it on your bed. Come see."

We walked into my bedroom. There was nothing on the bed.

"Sandy, uh...there's nothing here."

She pulled back the blankets, sat down on the edge of the bed and held out her arms.

"Now there is...if you want it."

I understood why she seemed different then, and also realized I felt the same way about her. My cane fell to the floor as I hobbled to the bed.

I kissed her again just to feel her arms around my neck, and while she held me, I lifted her sweater up. Sandy raised up her arms to let me slip the sweater over her head, and then kissed me again.

I fumbled a little with her bra, but finally got it unhooked. Her breasts slipped from the cups and I lifted them in my hands. Sandy purred when my thumbs brushed her nipples, and I felt her small tongue lightly brushing my lips. When I opened my mouth slightly, it slipped between them and found mine. Sandy sighed and stroked my back.

Her arms slipped between us and she unbuttoned my shirt, then rubbed her palms over my chest. I'd forgotten just how great that could feel. I'd forgotten how erotic a woman's hips are too, until I stroked down Sandy's back and felt the swell of her cheeks under my hand. Her jeans were too tight for me to go any further, but Sandy understood.

She stopped kissing me and whispered in my ear, "You better lay down so I can get your pants off over your bandage."

After shrugging the shirt off my shoulders, I stretched out on the bed. Sandy wiggled and squirmed as she took off her jeans, and then rolled her panties over her bottom and thighs. She stepped out of them and smiled.

"Am I what you though I'd be? I know you looked. I saw you sometimes, and you were smiling."

"Everything I imagined and more, Sandy."

Sandy helped me off with my shoes and pants, and then my boxer shorts. Carefully, she crawled over my legs and snuggled up beside me. With her soft hands, she traced my chest, then down my belly. Her fingertip touched the tip of my cock and it jumped. Sandy giggled.

"I guess part of you likes me."

She wrapped her small hand around my shaft and stroked lightly.

"Mark, I've thought about this for a long time. I just didn't know how to tell you."

"I know. I've had the same problem."

I couldn't really roll over to reach her, but Sandy took care of that too.

"The doctor said you wouldn't be able to, well...be on top for a while, so you let me be on top, OK?"

I chuckled.

"You actually asked him that?"

Sandy giggled.

"Yep. But not until after I was sure you'd be coming home. I didn't want him to think I was a nympho or something."

Sandy raised to a sitting position, put one soft, shapely thigh over my belly and eased herself down. She bent over and kissed me, then pulled my right hand to her breast.

I didn't remember my ex ever being ready before I was, but Sandy seemed to have very sensitive nipples. I hadn't even touched the lips I saw inside the triangle of dark hair between her thighs when she began to moan. With my other hand, I felt for those lips. Sandy was swollen and wet. My fingertip slipped through them and I stroked her lightly. Her response was to rock her hips into my finger. A little groan slipped from her throat.

"I'm ready now."

Sandy eased her weight down on one arm and raised her bottom slightly, then reached between us and felt for my cock. She moved it to her soft lips and rubbed it over them for a moment, then found her entrance with the head. With a deep breath, she slowly lowered her body over my shaft a little then raised up again. Another breath, and she pushed her body over me, deeper this time. On her third attempt, she kept going until she was sitting on my thighs.

All I could do was lay there and enjoy, but I think Sandy liked being in control a little. She varied her strokes and moved her body around for a while, and then settled on a position and speed she liked. I know she liked it because in no time, she was making little mewing noises. When I reached up and rubbed her nipple, Sandy caught her breath. I rolled it gently, and she gasped.

"Oh God, that's good...again...oh yes."

Sandy went slow, and I was enjoying everything about her. I loved it when she leaned down to kiss me, her breath almost panting on my face and her stiff nipples brushing the hair on my chest. I loved it when she arched her back, threw back her head, and moaned. I loved it when she raked her nails down my chest. I loved it so much I was quickly getting to the point of no return.

I tweaked her nipples again, and watched her little tummy roll with the sensation.

Sandy gasped and whispered "I'm so close".

I tugged on them gently and Sandy started to shake. She arched her back, driving my cock deep inside her, and cried out. The wet warmth that I felt on my cock pushed me over the edge. I couldn't really push into her, but by then, her hips were gyrating back and forth too fast for me to keep up anyway. The first spurt of my seed raced from my loins just after Sandy cried out again. She panted, then gasped, then rolled her head back as the spasm gripped her body. After a final shudder, she dropped to my chest and pressed her face against my chest.

We lay there, still joined, for a time. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest and her rapid breathing on my arm. From time to time, little contractions gripped my shaft, and with each one, Sandy would breathe a little purring moan.

I don't know how long we stayed that way. At some point, Sandy rolled off me, snuggled back against my side, and pulled the blankets over us. She kissed me passionately, whispered "good night, Mark" and stroked my chest with her hand for a while.

I woke up Christmas morning to the smell of Sandy's bacon and eggs. She was standing in the kitchen with her light robe on when I hobbled in. She walked over, kissed me and said, "Merry Christmas".

After breakfast, she insisted I open my other two gifts. The first was a sweater that I actually liked. The second was a bottle of my favorite scotch.

"Did I get something you like?" she asked.

"I like all three presents, but I think the one last night was the best. I feel bad though. I didn't get you anything."

"Yes you did. You got me two things. You came home yesterday, and you're going to be all right. I wouldn't have wanted anything else."

She grinned.

"I could use another night like last night though."