PG-17 warning…What can I say? I’m trying to get on St. Nick’s Naughty List, I suppose. I’ve heard the gifts on the dark side are more…interesting. The prompt is “fire”:
The wind ran capricious fingers through Celine’s long dark hair. Perhaps she should have put it up, since she was driving her brand new red convertible with the top down. But something about the freedom in being just a little wild had made her chuck the scrunchy so her hair could fly out behind her. Truth be told, it was a bit early for having the top down on her newest toy, but the chill in the air was exhilarating.
She rounded the familiar bend on the usually deserted road that led to her house and punched the accelerator, reveling in the responsive growl of the powerful engine. Rewarded by an instant burst of speed, Celine laughed out loud and silently thanked her absent husband for his thoughtful gift. The wind whipped and clawed at her now but Celine was long past caring, living in the moment and loving the icy cold caressing her neck beneath the open lapels of her raincoat.
At the high-pitched whine of a siren from somewhere behind her, Celine’s heart began an unsteady sprint. The motorcycle cop must have been hiding behind the big rock at the head of the street. She looked down at her speedometer, noting she was well above the 25 mph limit, even though her foot had reflexively left the gas pedal the moment the siren had registered. She applied her foot to the brake and pulled the car to the side of the road near a stand of brush that backed up against the edge of the woods. She’d almost made it home. Oh, God, her husband just might kill her this time
She brought the car to a stop and reached for her purse on the seat next to her to retrieve her license and registration. Celine spared a glance in the rearview, giving her face a quick look-see. More than once she’d used her appealing appearance to get out of a well-deserved ticket. Maybe a little flirting would work this time as well. Good, she hadn’t chewed off her lip gloss yet—since she had no time to freshen it. Her hair had definitely taken a hit from the wind, but instead of looking like a cave woman, she looked like she’d just left the bedroom of a lover.
Things were indeed looking promising for getting her out of the ticket.
Movement from behind her had Celine shifting her eyes to take in the lean cop dressed in khaki. His boots were a little dusty but his uniform was otherwise perfect, with a sharp crease down the center of his dark brown pants and a crisp tan shirt playing over powerful muscles that rippled beneath the fabric. Yum! His silver badge glinted in the mid-morning sunlight. He’d removed his helmet to reveal sandy brown hair but left his mirrored aviator sunglasses in place, and he strode toward her with a small open notebook, in which he was already writing as he stopped walking just outside her door.
Uh-oh. That probably wasn’t a good sign.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said with a nod. His voice was pleasant enough but no smile curved those serious lips.
This might not be as easy as Celine had counted on. “Is there something wrong, officer?”
“Are you aware of the speed limit on this road?”
“Why yes, I believe it’s, um, forty-five?”
“Twenty-five, ma’am,” he admonished in that deadpan voice.
What is he? A robot?
Celine angled her head and offered a coy smile. “Oh, my, so sorry. I guess I was going a teensy bit over, huh?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder for effect.
The cop’s fingers tightened on the silver and black pen he held poised over his notebook but nothing reflected in his facial expression. Celine shifted a little in her seat and allowed her raincoat to gap a bit, exposing some bare skin in the V between her breasts.
“You were doing seventy-three.”
Celine sighed. “I’m very sorry. I was just so…anxious to get home.”
One of the cop’s eyebrows rose above the rim of his sunglasses. “Got a lint fire in the laundry room or something?”
“No,” said Celine with a giggle. She leaned forward to peek at the name tag above the cop’s breast pocket. “I’m pretty sure there are no fires in my…house, Officer Madison.” She lifted her gaze to his face and turned on a hundred-watt smile, lowering her voice to one level above whisper. “Or may I call you…Tom?”
Officer Madison allowed his shades to slip down his nose and peered at her over the top. “May I see your driver’s license, please?”
Celine allowed her coat to gap even wider as she handed over the small plastic rectangle. A gust of breeze sent a chill to the skin underneath. This time she was certain Officer Madison noticed the expanse of bare skin under the open lapel. His eyes flicked downward to the license in his hand, then he stuck it in the clip of his notebook.
“Can you step out of the car, Ms. White?” He still sounded so businesslike, and while phrased as a request, Celine knew he just given her a command.
She chewed on her bottom lip as slid her hand to the door handle. “Of course, Officer Madison.”
“Slowly, if you will, Ms. White.” He took a step back when she pushed open the door.
Celine stepped one foot out, followed quickly by the other, and stood, gathering her raincoat closer around her when the wind whipped it about her bare legs.
Officer Madison raked his eyes down along her body and his eyebrow quirked again when he got to her legs, and then her feet with the light brown boots she’d tugged on earlier.
“Are you carrying any weapons under your coat, Ms. White?”
Celine tightened her grip on the edges of her coat. “Of course not. Why would I have a weapon?”
He took another step back, his hand resting on the gun at his hip. “Why don’t you open your coat so I can see what’s under it?”
Heat crept into Celine’s face, and for the first time since she’d started out for the drive to clear her head, she wondered if she’d have reason to regret her choice of attire. “Um, I’d really rather not…if you don’t mind.”
“Actually, yes I do mind.” He unsnapped the holster on his weapon. “Please open your coat, Ms. White.”
Heaving a resigned sigh, Celine allowed the coat to fall open slightly, knowing she revealed a fair expanse of bare skin, a pair of Daisy Duke cutoffs, and a black lace vest that didn’t meet in the middle. “See? No…um…weapons.”
Officer Madison said nothing, but he did remove his sunglasses, then folded them and hooked the earpiece in his breast pocket.
“I was driving to clear my head and, um…didn’t take time to…”
“Dress?” he asked sarcastically, one corner of his mouth quirked up into a leering smile. Heat reflected in his gorgeous blue eyes as his glance swept down, and then up, halting at the level of her breasts which were trying their best to play peek-a-boo around the edges of the vest.
“Ah…it was laundry day and I couldn’t find any clean…clothes?”
Officer Madison’s eyes had darkened, his gaze apparently glued on the skin along the edge of her vest. “Ms. White, I do believe this may require a bit more…investigation.” He snapped his holster closed and then made a spinning motion with his forefinger. “Turn around please.”
Thank you for stopping by! Watch out for those speed traps as you RETURN TO TUESDAY TALES.