Sarah's Private Dick Ch. 02

Author's Note: This chapter, like the one before it, doesn't have any sex in it... although things do get a little bit steamier ;) I hope you enjoy!

******

Derrick walked up to Mrs. Brown's small, two story single family home with his leather file case securely in hand.  He'd already started investigating Vincent Holme, just the basics, and so far hadn't come up with anything unusual.  Forty six years old, never married, attended college and obtained a degree in business management, which is where he met Martin Brown, who had majored in History. Which did beg the question why Vincent wasn't running the show at Polenta, until he'd looked up their work records and found out that Martin had been working in restaurants since he was 16, whereas Vincent had not practical experience until after they graduated.  Still... why not split it fifty-fifty?  No wonder Mrs. Brown was nervous.

Taking in the small but exquisitely landscaped yard, he wondered if she was the one who hand planted the bushes that were flowering pink and cream in a row under the first story windows or if they had always been there.  He'd done a little digging on his employer too - standard stuff. Sarah Brown, maiden name Fairchild, thirty-eight years old, 5'3" and 133 pounds according to her driver's license.  Tiny woman really. Compared to him anyway. Her license picture had been pretty enough, brown hair, nice smile.  He liked that she'd attempted to smile at it, showed the same kind of cheerful personality that he'd noticed on the phone, talking with her.  Working for clients that he liked was always a nice perk. She'd worked in a retail store for a few years, but had soon become a housewife. No children strangely enough. That might require deeper digging... did he really need to know that? Probably not. It was just a curiosity that niggled at him. A loose end. He didn't like those. It's what made him such an effective investigator.

Martin and Vincent had opened Polenta fifteen years ago. It had a rough couple of years at first but had eventually gained a crowd of regulars and now was one of the locals favorite places to go for family friendly food and drink, or just to hang out and have a nice night at a bar.  A lot of bars and restaurants were switching over to becoming dance clubs on weekend nights, Polenta was one of the few places left where you could just go and have a conversation.  Made it popular for people who wanted to be able to talk without having to scream over a throbbing techno beat.  Sounded like his kind of place, actually. He'd have to visit it sometime.  Normally he didn't come out of the city, but obviously if the suburbs had more places like Polenta then he'd start making exceptions.

Finishing his observation of the house, nothing out of the ordinary about it at all, Derrick started walking towards the blue front door.  He could spy matching blue curtains in the front lower windows; the curtains upstairs were white and lacy looking. The house was obviously newer and well maintained, the white paint coat on the exterior couldn't have been more than a year or two old at the most. The grass was cut low, the bushes kept trim, and the windows were squeaky clean, inside and out. All in all it looked like a pretty nice place to live.

Ringing the doorbell, Derrick straightened himself up and waited. 

Even having her driver's license, he hadn't been quite prepared for the reality of Mrs. Sarah Brown.  For instance, in the picture her hair looked brown, but it was actually a deep auburn, shining with lighter red tints.  Her eyes were hazel with flecks of green and gold in them, and as they took in the full sight of him they were also very, very wide.  The mouth that dropped open was pouty, pink, sweet looking... and with her mouth hanging open like that he could feel his cock stirring as he had an extremely inappropriate thought about his employer.  God she was so tiny compared to him, she might not even need to get on her knees, she could just lean over and... enough of that.

Derrick cleared his throat, which was feeling suspiciously tight and held out his hand.

"Mrs. Brown? Hi, I'm Derrick Blake, it's nice to meet you."

Sarah's mouth closed with a snap as the man's huge hand reached out towards her.  She was getting a crick in her neck just from looking up at him... and there was a lot to look at. He towered over her, a huge looming hunk of muscle with broad shoulders, biceps that were barely encased in the simple black t-shirt he was wearing, and an easy smile on his dark face.  A gleaming smile actually, pearly white against the smooth ebony of his skin.  Wordlessly, Sarah reached out her hand and shook it, feeling almost dream-like as she stared up at him. The hand that was engulfing hers made her feel tiny - heck all of him made her feel tiny! And at the same time, she'd never been so aware of a man in her life.

He exuded masculinity. Sexuality.  His voice reverberated through her bones, the sight of him made her want to melt into a molten heap of sex, sex, sex and more sex.  Good golly Miss Molly...  Sarah's blush heated her cheeks as she stared at the contrast of their skin, her tiny white palm completely encased in his very large, very black hand.  The biggest fingers she'd ever seen... they were like sausages! What would that feel like for a woman, to have those big fingers pushing...

"Um. Hi. I mean hello. It's nice to meet you Mr. Blake," Sarah managed to stammer out as she forced her eyes back up to his. Deep brown. Like melting chocolate.  Intense melting chocolate. She felt trapped as she looked at him, unable to break away from his gaze. "Please call me Sarah."

She didn't know why she said that. Maybe because it felt too weird, this man who already knew so much about her anxieties, calling her by such a formal name. After all he was going to come into her house, investigate Martin's best friend and his business. Might as well call her by her first name. Or maybe just because she was searching for something to say, anything to say that didn't make her sound like an idiot.  It wasn't right that a man could be that good looking and also have that fantastic of a voice.  Hearing it in person just made her want to have him sit down and talk to her.

"Then call me Derrick, please. May I come in, Sarah?" he asked, and she realized that she was still standing in the doorway holding his hand.  The way he looked down at her made her suddenly very aware that she was wearing a low cut shirt.  Her jeans were fine, they covered plenty, but her cleavage had never seemed more visible.  Immediately she snatched her hand away and backed up, trying to pretend that she was just getting out of his way.  Pretend she wasn't retreating.

"Sorry, like I said, I've been a bit out of it."

"Completely understandable."

She felt like such a liar, seeing him standing there with those warm, sympathetic dark eyes.  Obviously he saw a grieving widow, but that's not what was making her out of it. That's not what she felt like.  Thinking about Martin still made her sad, and it was odd sometimes to wake up without him, but it had been three weeks and she wasn't truly mourning anymore. Last night, at dinner with Patricia, she'd admitted how guilty that made her feel, but her friend made the good point that it wasn't like Martin had been around the house a lot anyway, so she wasn't used to having him there... how could she miss what she hadn't really had?  Sometimes she wished he was around to talk about Polenta now, but more so that she could bounce ideas off of him.  Like Cara wanting to utilize the local farmer's market to get fresh ingredients.  Vincent was against it, not wanting to anger their suppliers, Sarah was for it because she liked the idea of supporting local business and having super fresh ingredients, but she wasn't sure that she should really have a say at all.

"Come on, I'll show you Martin's office," she said, brusquely, trying to shed her body's reactions to him.  Fake it till you make it. That was one of Patricia's quips when Sarah had asked her for advice on being sexy and enticing Martin. She figured it worked well enough in reverse too.  She couldn't help her body's reaction, but that didn't mean she had to give into it or show it. And the more she acted like there was no reaction, hopefully the more she'd cool down.

It only took a few minutes to show Derrick around the small home office, how the files were organized and then Sarah headed for the door, trying not to feel like she was running.  In the doorway she paused.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Soda? Coffee?"

Derrick smiled appreciatively at her thoughtfulness. "Coffee please, I wouldn't mind a pick me up. No cream or sugar. I shouldn't be here for more than a couple of hours."

Sarah nodded and disappeared.

He definitely wouldn't be here for more than a couple of hours. His reaction to the breathtaking widow, who was also his employer, had been extremely inappropriate.  It wasn't her fault she was gorgeous. With luscious curves that a man could easily fall into. Pouty lips that begged to be kissed, to be opened and... yeah okay. Don't go there. Focus. Job. Work. Her late husband.  That should cool his dick down, but it didn't.  Grimly he reached into his pants and shifted the rebellious member so that at least he'd be able to sit and work.

Those jeans she was wearing showed off her curvy hips and the sweet swell of her ass far too well.  And the deep v of her cleavage was nice. In fact, the whole package was pretty spectacular.  Also, very off limits.  Taking advantage of a grieving widow didn't exactly get a guy any brownie points. It would also be extremely unprofessional to flirt with an employer. Anymore than he already had.  Right then, Derrick resolved to keep thinking of her as "the widow," to help and keep his hormones under control. When was the last time a woman had effected him so much? He liked women, always had, but there was something special about this one. Something in her eyes maybe. Probably grief asshole, get back to work.

Sighing, Derrick started pulling out drawers and looking through the contents of the office.

****

It took fifteen minutes for Sarah to get her act together and bring Derrick his coffee even though it only took about five minutes to make the coffee. She was spending the rest of the time trying to control her insane reaction to him. Not once in her entire life had she ever met a man who inspired such instant... lust. There was no other word for it. How humiliating.  And he was so professional and polite, not at all interested in her and yet she felt like she was a bitch in heat.  Definitely in heat. It was pure chemical attraction on her part, and her body apparently didn't care that Martin had died three weeks ago and that her arousal on sight was more than unseemly, it could even be considered disrespectful to Martin's memory.

So she quivered and stalled and tried to get her body back under her control.  Coffee. Black. Ebony, like onyx, really... okay woman get a hold of yourself. 

By the time she walked into the office she had herself completely under control again. At least, until she saw him sitting behind the big oak desk.  The desk had always seemed to dwarf Martin, she'd sometimes thought to herself that he looked like a child playing at his father's desk. It was a big, heavy piece of furniture, set higher than most desks she'd seen, and simply made without any ornate carvings or woodwork.  An intimidating and stark piece of furniture.  Derrick looked completely at home behind it, his dark skin lit with the soft light of the lamp on the desk, his brow furrowed as he looked through the files.  She wondered what it would feel like if she stroked her fingers over the satiny smooth looking skin on his bald head. Or down the hard lines of those bulging muscles.

When her pussy clenched, that's when she realized she needed to get out of there.  Martin's office had been decorated to be masculine, nothing soft or feminine about it, and he'd always seemed to use it to show how he was masculine. Derrick just settled right in there like he belonged, and it was enough to send a wave of shivering, and incredibly inappropriate heat through her body.

"Thank you," he said, lifting those gorgeous eyes to hers, his voice rippling like a current along her nerves and zinging straight to her clit.

Damn her traitorous body anyway. 

"You're welcome," she said, as smoothly as she could. And then she fled.  Huddled in a chair in front of the television she realized that her jeans suddenly felt too tight, the low-cut v-neck shirt suddenly too hot and too revealing.  Her long lost libido stirred, making her want to moan as it threw up images of fantasy in front of her face.  Derrick's large fingers on her breasts, against her cream skin and pink nipples, the thick digits pushing into her body... god just two of his fingers would be as thick as Martin had...

And that cut her off again. 

She felt sick. Like a terrible person. Terrible wife.  Terrible widow. So what if she had Martin's sex life had died out long before he'd passed, he'd still only been gone for three weeks and here she was, with a body that was aroused and on edge for another man.  But she hadn't succumbed.  Sarah comforted herself with that thought.  She hadn't flirted, hadn't expressed her interest, and she was doing her best to shove the fantasies away.  Surely people in monogamous relationships occasionally ran into someone that they were inadvertently and unabashedly attracted to, but the important thing was that they didn't act on that attraction.

Plus, hadn't she heard somewhere that it was normal, after a death of someone close, to feel the urge to copulate? Sex tended to be reaffirming.  In fact, the last time she and Martin had made love it was the day after his grandmother's funeral.  It hadn't been very satisfying sex for her, but that hadn't been the point. It had comforted Martin, been what he needed.  They just hadn't had much of a sexual spark between them, although when they'd first been married she'd still been hopeful that perhaps her romances had it right and her married life would be filled with hot sex and incredible orgasms... but that had just manifested. Martin had never been interested more than once a month, and slowly the time period between had lengthened.  Sarah hadn't minded because sex just hadn't been that big a thing for her.

But Martin had never made her feel as aroused as just the sight of P.I. Derrick Blake did either.

Sarah buried her face in her hands, rubbing it harshly over her skin.  For the first time in her life she felt like trying to masturbate. See if she could bring herself to orgasm. Maybe she'd try that tonight.  It wasn't unfaithful if it was just in her head, right?

Blearily, Sarah blinked her eyes and tried to concentrate on the TV program.  It took her a few minutes before she realized she was watching Jersey Shore. Immediately she recoiled and changed the channel.

*******

Derrick needed an accountant. There was something odd about the books, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. Fortunately, his best friend Nick just happened to be a stellar accountant and since it was after October 15 already, Nick wouldn’t be too busy again until the end of January when the businesses would start doing their taxes again.  Glancing at the clock he saw that he’d been here about almost three hours, more time that he’d originally planned to.

He ignored the part of him that said it was because of the pretty woman in the other room. As if such a lackluster word as “pretty” could ever really be used to adequately describe her.  When she’d brought the coffee in it had taken all of his acting skills to pretend that he wasn’t watching her cross the room.  There was something in the way she looked at him, nerves maybe? Afraid of being alone with him here in the house?

It wasn’t his skin color, because she’d found him through Q. But Derrick was well aware that his size made him a lot more intimidating that his skinny cousin (who had grown up with the nickname Q-Tip for a reason). He’d done what he could to settle her nerves by not appearing to pay much attention to her, but he’d seen the pretty blush of heat across her creamy skin as she’d looked at him, the trembling of her small hands as she put the coffee down.  A petite beauty, far too tempting in every way.  There was a picture of her on the desk, all big eyes and those pouty lips… he’d had to plant it face down because it had been too distracting.

Down boy.

Definitely time to get out of here and stop thinking about The Widow. Dumbass.  He quickly and efficiently packed up the books that he wanted to take with him into a box and grabbed his leather folder.  Hefting the box under one arm, he went out into the hallway, heading towards the front door.

“Mrs. Brown?” he asked, loudly, as he headed down the stairs and to the entrance.

Almost as though she’d been waiting for him she came trotting around the corner, a sweet smile on her face.

“I thought I told you to call me Sarah,” she said, reminding him.  The closer she got to him, the more she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes and the harder it was not to drop the box, pick her up and set her against the wall so that he could get his hands all over that luscious little body. Instead he just gripped the box tighter.

“Sarah,” he said, smiling down at her. Oomph. This man packed a sexual punch.  Just seeing that flash of white teeth in his dark face and hearing his deep voice saying her first name made her insides tighten.  The easy way he carried the box of files said that he was every bit as bit and strong as he looked. “I’m going to take some of the accounting files if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course, whatever you need,” she said, almost mindlessly.  The remembered joke about private dicking flashed through her mind and she immediately heated with a blush, feeling her nipples harden under her shirt. Dear god… please don’t notice. Fortunately his eyes remained firmly on her face. Of course, that might not be much better considering how red she was at the moment.

Derrick was fascinated with the rosy color suffusing Sarah’s cheeks. What thought had triggered that?  Was she feeling just as off balance as he was?

Even if she was it was time to go. 

“I’ll give you a call as soon as I have something,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” Sarah replied, smiling up at him. The trust in her eyes was enough to make his heart give an extra thud in his chest.  Didn’t even know him and yet she looked like she believed he could solve all of her problems. Strangest thing was that he found himself hoping he could.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief after closing the door, slumping against it. Her body was still… hot. Maybe it was time for a shower.

Trotting upstairs, she tried not to think too much about Derrick’s strong arms. Huge body. Sarah wasn’t a tall woman, but Martin had only been 5’9”.  At one point in her life she’d thought that was very tall, now she knew better. Derrick had loomed over her, making her feel absolutely tiny. Delicate, even with her rounded body. What would it be like to be under someone that massive… he’d pin her down to the bed just with his weight…

This wasn’t helping her cool her arousal at all.  Stripping down quickly, Sarah looked at herself in the mirror. Well that helped.  Short. Dumpy.  Big melon breasts.  Soft stomach, no muscle at all.  Wide hips. Round cheeks and boring hazel eyes. The only thing she really liked about herself was her hair, with its dark reddish color that would flame up with brighter reds and gold in the sunlight.

Of course as soon as she got in the shower and couldn’t see all of herself, she started looking at her various body parts and imagining what Derrick’s dark hands would look like against her ivory skin.  Heat, that had nothing to do with the hot temperature of the shower, quivered inside of her.