THAT MIAMI GLOW
Ranger POV
Chapter 2: H
oOo
Having come through a busy period with a hefty workload, including interviewing and recruiting potential new Rangeman staff, it was our turn for a short break. I had already enabled the core team members, each in turn, to take some leave and rejuvenate themselves in whichever way they felt was what they needed. They deserved a vacation. The rest of the team picked up the slack with the shift rotations, and I took on extra shifts. Stephanie also took on some extra shifts. As a result, there were times when our shifts did not coincide, so we passed like ships in the night.
Sometimes a brief kiss was enough to get us by, but going to bed alone at times without her warm body to snuggle up to left me wanting. I always wanted more. Watching her, she'd catch my eye, chew her lip, or suck on her finger, lick her lips or just close her eyes and hum. I knew that look. I'm sure she did it to tease and flirt. But, I confess, I was already playing that game with her. A look, a touch, a sniff and a hum of approval, or a sexy growl, as she passed. So, she upped the ante. Her touches were becoming more direct, from along my arm, rubbing my abs and a squeeze of my junk. Direct hit. Madre Dios!
They were short windows of opportunity since, with the shifts, surveillance and call outs, our times on the fifth floor did not always overlap. Tank had rostered us knowing that putting us together on surveillance, at this time, would not be productive at all. So, we became the opportunists, taking risks.
Sometimes, while sitting at my desk, watching the office feed, namely Stephanie, I would watch her as she moved around the control room. As soon as she passed my office door I would pounce on her, dragging her swiftly into my lair, not unlike a trapdoor spider pouncing on its prey. Yes, I was the predator and she was my prey. As the door shut and locked, our clothes seemed to fly off our bodies. Amazing! We had to be careful not to rip them off, as tempting as that was, since we both had to exit onto the control room floor from my office. Secondly, we had to be careful not to draw attention. I know. (I rolled my eyes again!) Who were we kidding?! Right? Amazing how satisfying a quickie could be. Aye-yai-yai! It certainly released some pressure.
Other times the need and the want took over as our lips touched, setting us both on fire. Sizzling definitely comes to mind. Passionate too. After a kiss, which suddenly became more fervent, grabbing my shirt, she would hiss and whisper growl at me, "If you don't fuck me now Carlos, I'm going to self-combust! And things might get nasty and messy."
So, being a good soldier boy, I knew how to obey commands and direct orders, so I happily obliged. Who was I to complain? We were a hot mess. Her mood settled simultaneously, as was noted by Lester. Hector nudged me having overheard Lester.
"You too, hermano! You are like a wild grizzly bear with a she bear nearby on heat! See, you too are much tamer, now," he sniggered with a sly wink and a tap to the side of his nose. Something to think about. Perhaps we were not as quiet or discreet as we thought. … Oh. Right. Gotcha hermano. Not about discretion then. I get it. I'll take that on board. Not getting any was making me grizzly.
Another time I would get a text: "My office on 7. STAT!" I would fly up the stairs two or three stairs at a time, to find her lusciously naked on our bed, already having started without me! Madre Dios! She was sex personified.
Another time I opened an email with a video link, where she was moaning as she licked the jam from a jam doughnut, as she squeezed it. That's all it took. Message received. Dman jelly doughnut hormones! Damn good! Ha! Checking the background always told me where she was. Thankfully, they were all on site. We were careful not to be caught in public flagrante delicto. Our relationship was very private and we certainly wanted to avoid adding ammo to that toxic gossip train of the Burg. Sometimes we met up in my office, in the garage, in the Porsche Macan, in the gym, in the locker room, even in the gun range. Of course, the cameras were immediately scrambled.
That went on for eight long weeks, but giving ourselves a reprieve for a week in between Tank and Les, and then Bobby, was Stephanie's brilliant idea. Tank modified the roster accordingly. That gave us a chance to recover from the extra workload, and also to re-align our body clocks for some precious togetherness at the same time.
It was imperative to ensure that we kept a positive working atmosphere in the control room and out on the streets. Stress can cause mistakes. Security is a 24/7 business. However, the frigid conditions with the winter storms kept some wannabe burglars at home, so break ins were few and far between. There were fewer recent FTAs considering the bleak weather conditions with many roads dangerous and iced up. Skips had to be rooted out and most of them were hiding out at home. Stephanie's research confirmed that time and again. If they were not in their place of residence she was able to deduce alternative hideouts.
Our decision to fly south was a blessing. With a brief reprieve in the heavy snowfalls, and rain, we were fortunate to get the only flight heading south before the airport was closed until the icy conditions improved.
Removing Stephanie from the toxic tendrils of the Burg, and especially away from her cantankerous, whining mother, along with that fuckwit bullying Morelli, was a significant catalyst. Trenton can be miserable at times, but the oppression inflicted by those two in particular, was unyielding. They never let up, taking any and every opportunity to wreak their disparaging and malicious attacks on her in a myriad of ways, her mother rarely face to face, but Morelli at every opportunity, especially in public. No matter that Steph and I were lovers, living together, and engaged to be married, whenever she chose the date, they still kept on about her marrying that moron. What the fuck?!
The malicious rumours became more insidious in what seemed like another desperate, effort to pry us apart. They attacked Stephanie's character and integrity all the time. Checking with my lawyers and asking the Chief of Police about it was a dead end. There was nothing concrete we could pin on them since the rumours were just that, malicious gossip, so we could not even lay charges for slander. Of course, we all knew the source, without a doubt. To think that I found it aggravatingly frustrating was an understatement. A restraining order was a waste of time. I was so relieved that we could actually escape for our break, away from all that crap.
Keeping my cool was critical. Morelli was pressing my buttons, gloating, eagerly hoping to get a rise from me. I did not give him that pleasure. He's a shit stirrer constantly making derogatory and inflammatory remarks to Stephanie. The gym was my saving grace, beating the shit out of those bags. Tank and Lester or Bobby sparred with me, Hector too, to release my rage, as the beast was lurking close to the surface. Tank nearly withdrew from his vacation plans so he could keep my back. No way was that going to happen. The core team was solid, my brothers had my six.
I remained stoic and Stephanie did her best to avoid Morelli. Her mother rarely ventured into our neighbourhood or any of the places where our skips, surveillances and patrols would take us. That the hours varied was an added bonus. We had disassociated any contact with Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, so no more Lula either. Connie and Lula were almost as bad as Morelli and her Mother, and fed that rancid Burg Grapevine without conscience. They were not to be trusted. Lula had proved that over and over again and it was getting old.
Having a regular Rangeman partner with her at all times was critical, especially when taking a skip back to the TPD. Waiting in the car was not a practical idea as she soon discovered. Morelli was using every opportunity to ambush and harass her. Cal enjoyed toying with Morelli, using his imposing height and body language to intimidate him while he was trying to intimidate her. Stephanie didn't rise to Morelli's taunts and wild aspersions in trying to bait her for a reaction. The fuckwit had repeatedly underestimated her, not realising that Stephanie was so much stronger and confident, and this, of course, annoyed the hell out of Morelli. We discovered that Cal was Morelli's most disliked Rangeman, since he was also a navy man. But, unlike Morelli, Cal was a distinguished Navy SEAL. Most times Morelli just made an ass of himself and his behaviour was noticeably not well-received by his colleagues.
"Geez man. Give it up, Petty Officer. You still poaching? Like your usual MO?" Cal snarled at him.
Stephanie apparently was quick to respond, "It's alright Cal. He's probably bored with his side pieces, you know, Bettina, Alicia and Sandra. Maybe "his boys" miss them, but they're not putting out. But then … he still holds a torch for Terry Gilman, as we all know. That makes an interesting scenario, and a very compromising one at that, don'tcha think? Police officer screwing a mob princess. Not a good image at all. Pfft. C'mon Cal. Let's go. There's a yummy hot body waiting for me at home."
Cal recounted how Morelli was left red-faced and fuming, and just about frothing at the mouth, as he stormed back into his own little office slamming the door. Her edgy sarcasm was on point as she made all her remarks to Cal, completely ignoring Morelli as if he wasn't there. Proud of you, Babe. Hector had hacked into the TPD feed and we enjoyed watching the idiot lose face in front of his peers. Damned good.
oOo
TBC