Having just read some of the other stories it looks as if I have skipped out on some necessary protocol. Apparently I should start with a disclaimer. I have no connection with the characters or ownership of the rights to these characters. This story is exclusively for entertainment purposes. I should also state that this story is particularly explicit. This is my first story, please let me know if it is inappropriate, or I am missing the point of this site. Enjoy.
Chapter 1: A Few Good Men
"There is nothing on this earth sexier, believe me, gentlemen, than a woman you have to salute in the morning. Promote 'em all, I say, 'cause this is true: if you haven't gotten a blowjob from a superior officer, well, you're just letting the best in life pass you by." This was one of Bobby's favorite lines from one of his favorite movies. Every time he watched 'A Few Good Men' he chuckled to himself and thought of Alex.
Jack Nicholson was right. Bobby found it incredibly arousing to have the senior detective in their partnership down on her knees in front of his long frame, with one hand gripping her hair and the other guiding her chin. He was finished with letting the best in life pass him by. Actually, he was finished with letting the worst in life pass him by; at least this was his hope. The last couple of years before his mother and brother died could be titled, 'It was the worst of times. It was the worst of times.'
And no matter how bad things became, there was Alex, sometimes standing beside him, sometimes pulling him along, and sometimes pushing him to continue. He may not have always felt that way, but time and distance had provided clarity. Time and distance had provided a true picture of the woman he loved, and just as importantly, the woman who loved him.
Bobby hailed a cab to Alex's apartment. She had moved closer to the city after her kidnapping. Even two years after she freed herself from her captor, she was unable to free herself from the nightmares she still experienced. Neither did she feel like the strong, confident detective she had been her entire career. Alex often felt like a hypocrite when she worked with survivors of crime. She would tell all of them that they were survivors, and not victims. However, Alex still felt like a victim. It wasn't all the time, though much of the time, but rarely when she was with Bobby.
Bobby and Alex had been seeing each other on an intimate level since about a year after Frank's death. Okay, not just an 'intimate' level, but more than what most people consider 'dating.' But not just a 'sexual' thing either. It was a bit difficult to explain; neither of them could. Their relationship was a conundrum, wrapped up in an enigma, masquerading as a paradigm he would tell Alex. She always looked at him when he said that as if to tell him he needed to get out more; get out of the library specifically.
They had an intimacy to their relationship they had since beginning their partnership. That was the nature of police work. You can't work in a life and death vocation and not be willing to die for the other, at least not with any success. And theirs was a career of success. While some of the past couple of year's circumstances may state failure, their clearance rate spoke volumes.
He was excited about seeing her tonight. Who was he kidding; he was always excited about seeing Alex. They had decided not to move in together. It would be too difficult to keep things out of the workplace. They hadn't told Ross. They hadn't told Alex's family, Lewis, Jimmy Deakins or anyone. At least they kept talking themselves into believing nobody knew.
How could either of them believe nobody knew? Alex's cunt was twitching just thinking about him knocking on the door and she could feel her nipples begin to harden against her tank top as she thought of him. She couldn't help but reach up under her shirt and tweak them as she thought of Bobby's teeth clamping down on each one. And he was already finding it difficult to contain himself, from grin to groin. It wasn't as if they could turn these feeling on and off at will. Their feelings were deep and constant.
As the taxi pulled up to the curb Bobby paid the driver the $20 for the ride from his place in Chelsea to Alex's apartment in Marcus Garvey, jumped out and adjusted himself. He climbed the stairs, two by two, punched in the code to the front door, inserted the key into the mail box to retrieve Alex's mail then headed up the stairs. Alex lived on the third floor. She said she would rather have to jump out the window during a fire and break every bone in her body than have someone climb in the window. Bobby knocked on the door.
(TBC)