I Never Get Away with Anything

I think maybe it is true that no bad deed goes unpunished. I'm pretty sure I was breaking a few commandments and a deadly sin or two that night. I can lay claim to the sin of sloth at least. I had a sink full of dishes and a carpet that was desperate for a vacuum.

So what was I doing? You got it. I was writing.

I was drinking to. That was supposed to help me get off my ass and tackle the dishes. But I had to go and try and start a new story while I had that last smoke. Eight cigarettes later I was still writing.

And by the way vodka and orange wine cooler is a horribly disgusting combination. It was all I had in the house to use as a mixer and it was way too cold to run to the store.

I was actually even getting stoned. That's something I hadn't done in long years. Neither the bag nor the one hit was mine. It was "sleeping" over at my house because my friend ran out of time to stop back home and he didn't want any of that stuff on him at work.

I honestly really did mean to just clean some for him as he'd asked. But I've never been very good at resisting temptation.

So that was what I was doing when I heard the soft knock on my door. And then I got flustered and stupid. I hadn't heard the outer door buzz so I just assumed it was the older lady from next door. She can't seem to figure out her new alarm clock so two or three nights a week she taps timidly on my door and begs me to set it for her.

I just hopped off the bed and darted for the front door. I was smart enough to close my bedroom door behind me and for once I was actually dressed to greet company in shorts and a tank top.

Except it wasn't Saphira.

Oh shit. It was that wickedly delicious guy from the building next door. The one with the bedroom/bathroom floor plan identical to mine. That would explain the no buzzer thing. The front door key opened both building doors.

He was holding my glove in one hand. And that would explain the reason for the visit. He must have seen me drop it. Well boring whoop I mock sulked. Like anything ever gets interesting in my world.

Right around then was when things started spinning into insanity. Note to my self never whine about life not being interesting. The end results rarely work to well for me. Usually I end up battered and bruised and some degree of blooded.

His eyes flashed up to meet mine and the relaxed stance instantly dissolved. "Wow, he has got really green eyes." I remember thinking and then realized that the apartment reeked of pot. And I'd only had two hits!

"Miss, I'm gonna have to ask you to step away from the door and back into the apartment. Please keep your hands where I can see them!"

Huh? What the...when I looked back at him he was dropped down into a very professional looking shooters stance, pointing a gun straight at me.

Oh shit, fuck me sideways. I am so totally screwed here. This is really, really bad! I've never even had a parking ticket and now I'm gonna be hauled off to jail for drug possession. My mom is gonna kill me!

I backed meekly down my short hallway and well into the living room. He followed me, and his nose, and flicked open my bedroom door, his eyes pinned on me. I wondered where the second gun had come from. I'd never seen him draw it. He gave the room a fast, encompassing glance, then pulled it back shut.

There wasn't much to see in the room. Just a few dressers and maybe half a dozen book cases. I had a pile of clothes waiting for tomorrow's laundry date.

And then there was this really big bed covered in pale blue flannel sheets with a half dozen pillows scattered about and a hundred year old family quilt kicked to the foot.

And sitting solidly mid center of that bed was a page of green paper full of half cleaned weed.

He stepped away from the bedroom door more fully into the living room.

"No one else here?"

"No, just me Sir."

"Expecting any one?

"Not until late morning."

"You sell that shit?"

"Oh god no, I rarely even do it. It's not even mine! And I know you've heard that a million times and I'm not gonna tell you whose it is so you might as well haul me off to jail."

Oh yeah, this night was just getting better and better. I wasn't going to get my friend in trouble. I was the one this cop had caught. If you're gonna do something stupid you better be adult enough to accept the consequences. I was and I would.

He laughed softly. And suddenly my bad shit radar kicked in HARD.

I couldn't decide why. He still hadn't put either gun away. But they weren't pointing at my chest anymore. And yet I was getting so freaked out I was about ready to dive out my third floor window.

Suddenly, both guns were gone. I blinked. Whoa, hey cool. That was really, really fast. I hadn't seen a thing. They were just gone.

Oh bad thing. Suddenly he was standing about a foot in front of me. This is probably the part where I get hand cuffed and read my rights.

"You-are a cop, right?"

He smirked at me lazily. "Oh yeah, I am a cop. Wanna see my badge? Or maybe my hand cuffs?"

Oh fuck this. If I'm screwed then I'm screwed. But the Irish heathen bitch part of me was hell bent that she wasn't gonna stand around and meekly accept being taunted by this cop.

And one of these days I'm getting my hands around her neck and I'll choke the life out of that psychotic mouthy slut!

I kicked him in the shins.

There didn't seem any reason to even try to run so I just waited from him to slap the cuffs on.

Instead the room whirled and twirled and I slammed up against the wall so hard my head bounced and lights exploded. Fuck. The cop just body slammed me.

I had a brief dazed instant to think this is probably a really not good thing for me and then he was wrapping one hand around my throat, cutting off most of my air supply. The other tangled itself brutally in my waist length curls and yanked my head back hard.

Ouch,and more stars and explosions.

"You're not running the show any more you teasing little bitch!" He snarled.

"What?" I whimpered.

"Keeping your shades always open. And those thongs and the tiny little tank tops you wear. Think it's cute the way you tease me, don't you? You know I'm looking. You know I see you!"

Oh great. He was gonna add my peeping Tom tendencies onto the criminal charges. He always had his shades open to! I wasn't the only pervert here.

"You always looked back!" I whined sullenly.

Ouch, ouch, ouch, wrong choice of words.

"Stop bouncing my head off the fucking wall!" I spat, trying to kick him but he was standing too close. "You're gonna be carrying me down to your squad car and so help me the minute I regain consciousness I'll start screaming police brutality!"

He shot me a tight, mean little smile.

Oh fuck me sideways.

"Not taking you out to a squad car. I'm off duty now."

Oh this wasn't going to be good. At least not for me. Maybe I could just make him have to shoot me. I had a feeling that when all was said and done I might rather go with the shoot me option.

How does this stuff keep happening to me? It was like innocent, innocuous and normal just have this twisted passion to mutate and go all to hell when they get around me. Usually it's not really even my fault. I ended up in the middle of a gang war because of my baby sister. And my best friend suddenly got a mouth and a backbone that she directed at a half dozen street punks who'd been following us. That was something to write about. We ran about a mile jumping over massive cement planters and people sitting on the curb. And then my dad's guards almost shot us when we bolted screaming into his bank. I'm still collecting feedback on that little escapade.

So as usual, what should have happened went all to hell. I would have been better off if he'd just arrested me. Probably been better off even if he'd decided to shoot me.

I think he really did come over with just my glove and no "evil" intentions. I think he meant to try and use that opening to ask me out or something. But then he smelled the pot and everything changed. He could have just let me off with a warning. He could have hauled me off to jail.

But like I said at the start of this, I am beginning to really believe that all bad deeds eventually gather punishment. And lust is one of the seven deadly sins, right? So my deliberately fostering it in him was a bad thing for me to have done.

Because I have been teasing him with those window semi dressed peepshows for about a year now. And he just saw a way to shift all the power to his side.

He smiled down at me lazily. "Didn't know I was a cop, huh?" He drawled.

Well DUH! Even I'm not stupid enough to tease a cop.

He'd relaxed the hand gripping my throat, and the one tangled in my hair had changed to sliding sensually through my thick mass of curls.

"This is fucking delicious!" He rasped suddenly. "You're trying so hard to find a way out, to get the upper hand back. You're not gonna win this one. It's just perfect. I couldn't have planned anything this perfect. Just face it baby. I win!"

"I didn't mean any of it!" I yelped. "Not in bad ways! I was just having some fun, playing around..."

Oh God. He hadn't liked that last comment.

Suddenly the room was whirling and twirling again and I was being body slammed down on the twin bed I use in place of a real couch.

"I see. So you were just cock teasing me?"

And what the hell sort of answer was I supposed to give to that question? Because there was no way, no way in hell I was gonna say yes to that!

So I did the only other thing that sprung to mind. I kneed him in the balls as hard as I could.

If you ever meet that crazy Irish bitch with her stupid temper and suicidal ways, have mercy on me. Please shoot her.

Then I rolled off the bed and started crawling frantically for the door. I had problems though. I was dressed in shorts and a tank top and it was 3 degrees out. And I had no idea where the hell my house keys were.

"Ah fuck me sideways." I whimpered dejectedly and curled up against the door, watching him come for me. He didn't look very happy. Of course I'd connected pretty damn solidly. Another note to self, if you're gonna knee a man in the balls, make damn sure you're in a position to get way far the hell away. For at least like a year.

"Oh you're really going to pay for that." He snarled, leaning down to drag me roughly upright.

Kinda what I figured. I should have just tried to get him to arrest me. My mom would yell my eardrums bloody and guilt trip me for a month of birthdays. But she's not big enough to hurt me and she's never done violence on me. He was, and he looked like he was just dying to.

He shoved me ahead of him into my bedroom, then tossed me onto the bed.

"Get your clothes off, assuming you like them and don't want to see them torn off." He snapped, pulling his shirt over his head then dropping his hands down to start on the buttons of his Levis.

He was standing right in front of the door. And my bedroom window pretty much took an act of God to pry open even an inch. I didn't have any place to go.

"Please! Can we talk about this?"

He gave me a snide, nasty smile. Right about now he looked at least as crazy as my dangerous Irish bitch side. So I was guessing the talking option would fizzle.

"Sure we can." He growled, kicking his boots off and yanking his jeans down. "I'm gonna fuck you. You're gonna get fucked."

So much for negotiating.

What the hell was I supposed to do now? What could I do? I didn't even know where my cell phone was and I rather doubted he'd wait patiently as I tried to dial.

He crawled up the bed towards me. God. He was so big. I'm not some little five foot two, eyes of blue pocket Venus. I'm 5'7" and I honestly do know how to fight. Back in my twenties, my group of friends included some guys from a semi professional wrestling company. They taught me a lot of things. I can actually flip a three hundred pound guy. At least half the time. Sometimes the whole thing messed up mid way and I got squashed.

But he was just so damn big. And I was flat on my back. And he was a cop.

"You're a cop." I whimpered helplessly.

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm a good cop to." He hissed. "But a year! You've been doing this to me for a year. Day I was moving in you darted off this bed in a thong. I dropped a fucking load of shelving on my brother's head! He's still bitching and moaning about it!"

"Sorry." I whimpered. "I didn't know you were there. I was hot."

"You have about ten seconds to get naked. Then I start ripping your clothes off. This is happening. I'm pretty sure I can get away with it but right now I can't find any brain cells that still care about if I will or won't."

He was crouched over me. I had wanted him, lusted for him, from that first day. I had turned back, almost out the door, when I heard the crash and the male cursing that day.

And he was standing there, staring out his window, eyes so hot my skin burned.

He was so fucking sexy.

I like tall men, and he was about 6'4". And big; long, well used muscles in his arms and chest and shoulders. He actually had a six pack belly. I'd always thought that was just a romantic, sexual fantasy.

I wondered is it rape if I really have been asking for it? I was too shy to ever even try and talk to him. I guess I was trying to push his buttons. And obviously I had.

Gods above and below, this was pushing my buttons.

"Are you still gonna arrest me...if I do what you want?" I whispered, stalling for time.

He snarled at me, and yanked my tank up and over my head, then flipped me easily onto hands and knees and dragged my shorts down and off.

I wasn't wearing either a bra or panties, and those two moves left me sprawled out and open. And totally nude.

He didn't bother to answer me either, just yanked my thighs wider and suddenly slammed a cock that felt as thick as a baseball bat balls deep.

I yowled in shock at that, and tried to lunge forward, but he growled, low and feral, and wrapped a muscled arm around my belly and jerked me back tight up against him.

Good thing probably, because I would have hit the window in front of me and likely knocked myself unconscious.

"Don't you ever try to get away from me when I'm fucking you." He hissed, and then he dropped his face into the curve of my shoulder and bit hard and serious into my throat.

That made me scream, and start to cum so hard that I once again did try to get away from him. He just laughed, and forced me down flat on my belly and continued to hammer hard into me.

It didn't take him very long to come either. I guess, after a year, his sexual trigger was a bit primed.

He came in me so hard, I felt his cum spraying my insides.

He collapsed on top of me. And damn it, he was big. I could barely breathe. After a minute or two I flailed weakly back at him with an elbow.

"Get off!" I whined. "You're too fucking heavy."

He laughed, a lazy, sultry sound that made my cunt clench, and rolled to one side.

"I'm not done yet, you cock teasing bitch. You can sleep a little, but I want that ass."

Somehow I managed to turn my head and glare.

"Am I getting busted?" I demanded.

"You can pay for your crimes directly to me." He mocked lewdly.

"Bastard!"