DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! THE MOB MUSE HAS MADE ITS RETURN! HOPE ALL MY FANS DO, TOO.
WARNING: SLIGHT M RATING FOLKS. VERY SLIGHT. SO MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO ENJOY THE SAMFLACKIE ACTION.
Painting the town blue: Part One
"What's a photograph
If you're not in the other half
Why even dream
If I'm not dreaming of you
You make me a better man
Promise I'll do all I can
Your love keeps me bringing me
Closer to the truth
Nothing replaces your touch
Never stop believing in us
They try to break us
But we stand strong in love
They'll be no distance too far
I gotta be where you are
(right where you are)
I don't wanna face this world alone
Without you by my side
You're the only one
That makes it feel like home
And I need you in my life
When you're not around I'm feeling
Like a piece of me is missing
When it feels like the day is closing in
Somehow I find the faith
To make it through
When I'm with you."
-When I'm with You, Westlife
"Now listen carefully, Kieran," Adam said, in a gentle, calm voice. "This is Uncle Adam's favourite part of the movie. This is where the Princess Leia and the gang end up on the planet Endor. And meet the Ewoks. The Ewoks are these furry, cute little creatures. But never assume that cute means harmless. Because they can kick ass with the biggest and baddest of 'em."
"Adam!" Sam bellowed from the bedroom down the hall, as she dressed and listened to the conversation going on in the living room. "Language!"
"I'm sure he's heard a lot worse living in this house and having Flack as his father and a trucker mouth as a mother!" her younger brother yelled back. "Isn't that right, K? I bet you hear a lot worse words. Like shit and asshole and…"
"Adam Gregory Ross!" she exclaimed. "Enough!"
"Take it easy, Sammie! He's two months old. He doesn't know a thing I am saying. All he cares about is things like when he gets his next meal and whether or not his diaper is clean. And maybe if he's going to get some chill out time under the baby gym or in his swing."
"Just.." she sighed exasperatedly. "Just watch your mouth, okay?"
"Fine, fine.." he mumbled. "Your mom is becoming a real stick in the mud, Kieran. An old fuddy-duddy. She's thirty-three going on seventy-three some days. I feel for you. Having to grow up with someone as strict and anal as her."
Sam snorted and rolled her eyes and slipped the crystal embedded headband into her hair. Her shoulder length tresses had spent the entire day in hot rollers and she now boasted a head full of small, tight curls. She picked up the crystal and cubic zirconia Art Deco drop earrings that lay on the dresser and poked them through the holes in her lobes, securing them tightly with their butterfly backs. Next she put on the matching earrings and bracelet. She still wore her terry cloth robe over her strapless bra and lace panties, garter belt and nude stockings as she moved back into the ensuite bathroom to finish the last of her makeup for the evening.
It had been a long time since she'd dressed up for an event. The Orphans of Nine Eleven Charity Ball the September that had just passed, to be exact. When she was just over three months pregnant and not yet a wife. It felt as if forever had passed since then. Back when things were more simple. When she still carried her first born inside of her where he was warm and safe. When she wore just an engagement ring on her left hand and was just beginning to get excited and anxious over making wedding arrangements.
Things had changed drastically since then. Both for the good and for the bad. The good was that she had married the man of her dreams. Her forever love. And she had managed to bring a healthy, beautiful and amazing little boy into the world. Her marriage was strong and flourishing and her son was growing bigger and smarter with each passing day. He was beginning to make cooing and babbling noises and could almost lift his head up and hold it up unsupported, and he'd far surpassed his one month milestones despite his prematurely. He fed well and slept even better. His smiles were genuine now and he reacted to familiar voices. Especially those of his parents. He could bring his hands, although still kept in tight fists, up to his nose and mouth. And when he was lying on his stomach, could turn his head from side to side and fought to lift it up. Kieran loved his tummy time, as the doctors called it. But not near as much as he loved lying under the black and white toys of his baby gym or sitting in his swing watching life go on around him.
His mom and dad were exceptionally proud of him. Everything he learned was met with great enthusiasm and celebrated. But while dad was more laid back and took things all in stride and just went with the flow, mom tended to be nervous and uptight about everything. The smallest couch of sneeze sent her running to him, worried that he'd caught a cold. A slight whimper had her at his side and scooping him up.
But by far, her strongest, and most annoying obsession and paranoia, was her fear of crib death. It was so powerful that she couldn't remember the last time she'd went more than an hour without waking up in the middle of the night to check on him. It had gotten to the point that her tip toe visits to his crib were so frequent, that Flack had caved in and relegated himself to the fact that their son was going to be sleeping beside their bed in his bassinet for an indiscernible amount of time. And even then, she still checked on the baby on a near constant basis. Keeping a flashlight under her pillow and using it to shine on Kieran to make sure his chest was still rising and falling.
She was slowly getting better as her confidence in being a mother grew stronger. The more she trusted her skills and her husband's skills, the more she was able to relax when it came to Kieran's healthy and safety and well being.
Although the thought of leaving him overnight was killing her. It had been just over two months since his birth and she'd barely set foot out of the house without him, let alone entrust him to someone else's care as she went out for the evening. It wasn't that she didn't trust Adam and Gus. Aside from Carmen -who'd since moved out into her own apartment in a building two blocks away- and Danny, Adam and Gus were the two people she trusted completely with her son's life. She knew that they could handle an emergency if, God forbid, one happened to arise. And Adam, who spent every possible waking moment at the apartment fawning over his nephew, was a certified pro when it came to feedings and diaper changes and bathing. And playing. Adam was a natural and completely comfortable with his mad uncle skills as he called them.
No. Adam and Gus were not the issue. The issue was that Sam was having the mother of all episodes of separation anxiety from her infant son. She had spent nearly twenty-four hours a day tending to him since he was three weeks old and his father went back to work. Sam had decided, after Flack had gently reminded her that with the money still in the bank from what Zack had given her in his will there was no need for her to return to work right away, that eight weeks maternity leave just wasn't enough and put in the paper work for an extended leave from the NYPD. The union had accepted the request and her scheduled back to work date was the end of July. When Kieran would be six months old.
She had barely stepped foot out the door in two and a half months. She had managed to get out and do some bridal shopping with Stella, whose wedding to Mac was in less then two months. Other then that, suggestions from both her friends, and her husband, to get out more had fallen on deaf ears. She had no desire to leave her baby for hours at a time. And when she did, the anxiety and worry was so intense she couldn't even have a good time.
Tonight, she was having a hard time letting go, but knew it was an absolute necessity to be able to hand over the reigns and walk out the door.
The invitation for the NYPD's Spring Police Chief's Ball had made it's way to their door -via a uniform officer entrusted to hand deliver them to each recipient- a little over two weeks ago. The ball served as a chance to mingle with not only the Chief and the brass that served below him, but also the NYPD Commissioner and Mayor Bloomberg himself. The event was being held in the masterpiece that was the main ballroom of the Grand Hyatt, located at Grand Central Terminal. Along with the fabulous meal and the dancing, there'd be a silent auction to benefit the NYPD's Bereaved Families Foundation. But most importantly, the night was being used to honour members receiving medals of valour and bravery and those being promoted to different position and higher statures within the department.
Including one Donald Flack Jr. Who although had been going under the title of and receiving the pay rate of Detective Sargeant for three months, was scheduled to received the 'bars' that would grace the chest of his dress uniform, identifying him as a higher rank and the stripes that would be sewn into the left upper arm of the same uniform. It was a remarkable achievement for someone so young. And Sam was ridiculously proud of her husband. He was quickly climbing the ranks of the department and she couldn't have possibly been happier for him.
Or more in love with him.
And it was for him that she was facing the stress and anxiety of actually parting with her baby for the night.
Finishing with her makeup, she journeyed back into the bedroom and over to the dress lying neatly in the middle of the bed. An ice blue, ankle length strapless Charmeuse gown that she had ordered on line from Saks Fifth Avenue and had her husband pick up on his way home from work only three days ago. She shed her robe and tossed it on the end of the bed and picked up the dress and slid it over her head. Doing up the side zip, she took a deep breath and turned to face the mirror mounted over the dresser.
She had been worried about attending such a high profile event when she still had to lose nearly three quarters of the weight she'd gained while she was pregnant, but had been relieved when she had initially tried the gown on that the empire waist and the gathering at the bust and down the middle of the dress did an expert job at hiding the extra pounds.
I look like a beached whale, she thought with a sigh and turned away from the mirror. Snatching a sheer ice blue chiffon shawl that lay on the bed, she draped it across her shoulders before grabbing the silver and light blue beaded clutch evening bag that sat on the nightstand and slipped into a pair of sling back silver pumps she had placed earlier by the door.
"So you're sure that you're going to be alright alone until Danny gets here?" Sam asked, as she headed down the hall and into the living room. Where her brother sat on the couch, watching Return of the JedI with Kieran's tiny body between his legs and the baby's back resting against his stomach.
Adam looked at her as if she'd asked the most ridiculous question in the world. Then his eyes widened as he eyed his sister from head to toe.
"I know," she sighed. "I look like a double wide."
Adam frowned. "You look beautiful," he informed her. "Seriously beautiful."
Sam smiled and blushed slightly. "Thank you, Peanut. Although I have to admit, I feel like a cow."
"You just had a baby," he said, nodding down at his nephew who, clad in a royal blue sleeper with a soccer ball patch on the bum, was shaking his right fist energetically, causing the wrist rattle - a purple and white chequered band with Velcro closures and a tiny purple elephant's head on top - attached to him to jingle noisily. His big blue eyes slightly crossed as he stared at the toy.
"I am definitely going to have go join a gym with a child care center in it," she declared. "Because I can not go back to work with all this weight still on me."
"Thought you weren't going to go back to work," Adam said, picking up a floppy, stuffed chenille giraffe that sat alongside of him and shaking it in front of his nephew's face. The bells inside the extremities ringing and catching the baby's attention.
"Nothing has been decided yet," Sam told him. "Don and I are going to sit down and talk about it at beginning of July. I said I would listen to his reasons for wanting me to be a stay at home mom and he said he'd listen to mine about wanting to go back to work. So we'll see. Now you are sure you are okay alone with him until Danny gets here?"
"I am not even dignifying that with a response," her brother huffed.
"There's expressed breast milk in the fridge," Sam said. "Enough to get him through until late tomorrow afternoon. But Don and I should be home pretty early."
"Don't rush," Adam told her. "K is in good hands with his Uncle Peanut. Gussie will be here later tonight anyway. So it's all good."
"Just please, no sex in my bed. Alright? I don't care if you two sleep in there, but don't be doing the nasty. Don will never recover if he thinks you two got naked in our bed."
"Are the sheets clean?" Adam asked with a frown.
"I just put them on this morning. Not that it would have matter. It's been a lifetime since my husband and I have expelled our bodily fluids together."
"And that is why I am staying over night and playing nanny so mommy and daddy can have some fun," her brother told Kieran, as he lifted the baby up under the arms and turned him around to face him. Holding the infant under his arms, the fingers of each hand supporting Kieran's head.
"We'll see," Sam said. "I'm not promising you anything."
"Shouldn't be me you're promising anything to. It should be your long suffering husband."
Sam snorted. "His got two perfectly good hands and he's been becoming best friends with them both."
Adam grimaced. "TMI, Sammie."
She grinned and approached the couch. Leaning over, she pecked her brother on the cheek, then pressed her lips to her son's head. The silky black hair tickling her lips. "Be a good boy," she said.
"I will," Adam assured her.
"I meant Kieran," she informed him. "But you be good, too, Peanut. Danny should be around in about an hour. There's tons of junk food and pop for you guys. Remember to at least tidy the living room up and not leave Don's Wii and all the games a total mess. He will kick your ass if his things aren't perfect and exactly the way he left them."
"I promise you that Danny and I will limit the party guests to under a hundred and that Kieran isn't in the same room as the strippers."
"Ha, ha," she said dryly. "Funny. Now I've written all the important numbers down on the white board in the kitchen. Don's work and personal cell, Carmen if you need her and the number for the hotel and the room we are staying in."
"Sammie, just go. Go and call your cab and meet your husband. I know how to babysit and what to do in case of an emergency."
"Remember that Kieran gets four to six ounces every four hours but you have to burp him every two to cut down on the amount of reflux he gets."
"Sammie," Adam sighed heavily. "I know all of this."
"If he gets a tummy ache there's Ovol drops in the cupboard above the sink or Gripe Water under the sink in mine and Don's bathroom. There's a hot water bottle in there too if you think that might help. And he sleeps on his back or propped on his side. Never on his tummy. All the toys come out of the crib and he likes his Ocean Wonders aquarium turned on."
"Samantha!" Adam snapped. "I have spent tons of nights here and I know the routine! I've had extensive hands on experience! No go! Get the hell out of here!"
"Dollar for the swear jar," she informed her brother, pecking the top of his head. "Along with the ten bucks you owe for all the time you've slipped since you got here!"
"I'll shove an IOU in the thing," Adam told her. "Now go."
"I'm going," she said, holding her hands up in surrender. "Bye, sweetie cheeks," she pressed a tender kiss to Kieran's head. "Mommy loves you. She'll be back tomorrow. Daddy and I aren't running away from home or anything. We'll see tomorrow, okay? We love you."
"He knows!" Adam cried. "He knows and he loves you two! Now beat it!"
"You will understand just how hard it is to leave them when you have kids of your own," Sam informed him.
"No kids! We've talked about that! You know this!"
"All it takes is one time," Sam reminded him, as she headed for the door.
"Gus and I are birth control whores!" he called after her. "Speaking of which! Use some! I'm not ready for another niece or nephew yet!"
"We are protected to the max!" Sam assured him. "Call if anything…"
"Just get the hell out of here!" Adam ordered.
"It's nice to be so damn loved!" she hollered sarcastically, the door closing behind her.
Adam sighed heavily and looked at his nephew. "Do me a favour Kieran," he pleaded.
The baby gurgled noisily.
"Stay single. Forever."
Flack had gone straight on to the hotel following an excruciatingly long double. An entire sixteen hours spent following leads that led nowhere and chasing down possible suspects only to find out in the long run that they had absolutely nothing to do with the rather gruesome axe murder he'd caught in the early morning hours up in Far Rockaway. Normally, Gerrard would have insisted he stay for a triple and put his entire heart and soul into the case, but it was imperative that he attend the ball and receive his stripes and commendation from the mayor and the commissioner.
Four years following the bombing and he was just now receiving a medal of valour for nearly dying while trying to save the lives of others. Not that Flack actually gave a shit. He wasn't one to bask in the praise of the brass or make a big deal out of such things. What really mattered to him was that he had his wife to share the night with him. That he'd see the pride and respect and love in her eyes. And that was worth more than any promotion or award. Samantha was the only person whose opinion mattered to him. As long as she thought he was holding his own as a husband and a father and things were running smoothly between them, then the rest of his life seemed to flow nice and easy.
And so far, so good. Since Kieran had been born, life had been relatively peaceful. The fighting and tension that often existed between them had dissipated and they laughed more and talked things out instead of getting into nasty arguments. He helped around the house and with the baby without having to be nagged at to do it. He got up in the middle of the night or early in the morning when Kieran needed a feeding, regardless if he'd just gotten in a couple of hours before after working a triple. The days of wanting to spend nights out with the guys drinking and playing pool were, for the most part, behind him. He got no greater joy then spending time with his wife and his son. His family. Because with them, he never felt judged or looked down upon. Kieran and Sam loved him and accepted him regardless.
He had grown up. A lot. Since becoming a husband and shortly after a father, Don Flack Jr had become a different man.
For the better.
He had packed two overnight bags the evening before. One for himself and the other for his wife. She had entrusted him to the duty of gathering things for her. How hard was it to put together toothpaste and a tooth brush and deodorant and a change of underwear and clothes for the day after the ball. And a pair of pyjamas. He'd actually packed two. A mint green pair of linen pants and the tank top that went with it. And a little something extra he'd bought for her and would remain a surprise until he managed to talk her into putting it on.
Sam had never been one to sleep naked, but since the baby, she was adamant that she was covered from head to toe. She wouldn't even undress in the same room at her husband, let alone let him anywhere near her intimately. She was self conscious about her weight despite his insistence's that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and he loved her no matter what size she was. She turned him on whether she was a size two or a size twenty. But her self esteem issues and her exhaustion of being a full time mother had cut the love making down to non existent.
The same way it had been for nearly six months now. Flack was dying. Going absolutely insane. Taking care of things yourself was not the same as being intimate with your wife. The sensations and the feelings were much more intense and enjoyable when there was someone just as into it as you were.
Tonight was the night. He was determined. Adam had been a Godsend for agreeing to babysit over night, and Flack had been quick to shell out a ridiculous amount of money on one of the hotel's Lexington suites. One the thirtieth floor, their room was spacious and boasted a separate sitting room with black leather furniture graced with light blue and violet throw pillows and a wall to wall entertainment unit that held a plasma television and elaborate stereo system and a complimentary wet bar. The bedroom, with a picture window that overlooked the city, was massive and boasted an extra large king sized bed, small sitting area and an ensuite bathroom with granite counter tops and a Jacuzzi tub and separate shower stall. He'd handed over some extra cash to receive what was called the Amour package. Which included not only a late one in the afternoon check out, but champagne and strawberries in the room and a full breakfast delivered to the door.
He was determined to make it a night they'd both remember. A night where they could re-connect in every sense of the word. To just enjoy each other and not have to worry about anything, or anyone, coming between them.
Flack had showered and dried off and had just put on a pair of boxers, socks, a white undershirt and the pants to his dress uniform when a knock came to the door of the suite. He headed to answer it, doing up his watch as he went. A broad smile spreading across his face as he checked the peep hole before unlocking the dead bolt.
"Wow.." he said with an appreciative nod after he'd opened the door. "When that agency said they'd send the cream of the crop, they weren't kidding."
Sam gave a slightly embarrassed yet ultimately pleased smile. "Well now that everyone in the rooms surrounding you think that you've hired an escort," she teased, as she stepped into the room.
"Are you kidding me?" he asked as he shut the door and re-locked it. "An escort that looks like you? I could never afford it."
"And don't you forget that," she joked.
He kissed her long and soft in greeting. He noticed she seemed more relaxed and at ease. Quickly and willingly melting into the kiss and laying a hand on the back of his head to lengthen and deepen it.
"What was that for?" he asked, his eyes sparkling, breathless as he took in her glowing face and her dancing golden eyes.
"I'm not allowed to kiss my husband?" she inquired.
"It's been a while since you kissed me like that," he said.
She smiled. "Maybe I missed kissing you like that."
"I know I missed it. Think you could kiss me like that again? We got a lot of time to make up for."
She buried her fingers in the hair at the back of his head as he leaned into her once more and covered her lips in a long and intense kiss. He had missed how soft and supple her lips were. How moist her tongue was as it slid so provocatively and perfectly against his.
"Maybe we should take this off," he suggested, his heart pounding furiously, his fingers brushing against the belt on the soft pink trench coat she was wearing.
"I'm not naked under here, you know," she giggled. "I am dressed."
"That's too bad," he said with an exaggerated pout. "Here I was thinking you'd showed up at the door in nothing but a trench coat and some sexy undies and garter belt and stockings."
"Well I do have those on. I just have a dress on over top of them."
"Take this off," he whispered, his fingers making short work of the belt cinched tightly around her waist. "I wanna see what you look like."
"What if you think I look terrible?" she asked nervously.
"Never gonna happen," he replied, pressing kisses along her jaw line as his hands easily divested her of the coat, letting it fall in a rumbled heap at her feet. His one hand gripped her hip tightly, the fabric of her dress feeling luxurious under his fingertips. The fingers of his other hand drifted across her collarbone, his lips following suit.
She shivered under the touch of his warm, moist mouth. Feeling the most overwhelming and intense need to him. Totally at ease now that they were alone without any worry of interruption. Yet still slightly aware of how hideous she thought her body would look to him.
"You are so beautiful," he breathed against her bare shoulder. "You smell so good…you taste so good, baby."
"I don't know if I can…"
He silenced her with a deep kiss. His fingers trailing slowly across her shoulder, down the side of her neck and over the swell of her breast. He felt the goose bumps that pricked up on her satiny skin. Could feel her heart pounding against him. "I want you so bad, Samantha," he whispered into her ear. "I need you so bad. I've missed you so much."
To emphasize the point, he captured her hands and moved them both to the front of his pants. His desire more then evident.
"I missed you, too," she said, sighing as his lips found the side of her neck. Her fingers quickly and efficiently snapping open the button and sliding down the zipper of his uniform pants. Reaching inside and sliding her hands into his boxers to firmly stroke his rock hard length.
He moaned against her neck, his hand slipping behind her, searching aimlessly for the zipper on her dress.
"Donnie…" she breathed against him.
"I'm working on it, babe," he said. "I just can't seem to find…"
"You're looking in the wrong place," she told him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that the zipper isn't there. It's here," removing one of her hands from inside of his pants, she reached around to grab his hand and move it to the side of her dress.
"Well that explains things," he chuckled. "Here I was thinking my technique was so rusty I couldn't find a simple zipper anymore."
She gave a small giggle. "You're just having some technical difficulties," she said.
"Put your hands back where they were. I'm not having any difficulties where it matters most."
"You're going to wrinkle my dress," she fretted. "And I can't walk into the ballroom looking like I just rolled out of bed."
"Which is exactly why I'm getting you out of the dress," he told her, and finally unzipped it and let it fall to her feet. Pulling back and taking in the sight of her in a strapless, lace cream coloured bra, matching bikini underwear and a garters and stockings. The woman was a goddess. Walking sex. Extra weight or not. "You are so amazing," he praised, running his hands along her sides and to the small of her back before moving them down to cup her ass.
"I'm embarrassed," she admitted.
"Why? Why are you embarrassed around me? I'm your husband."
"I'm fat," she mumbled, looking away from him. Her cheeks flushed crimson.
"Baby, look at me," hooking a finger under her chin, he pulled her head back so she was forced to look at him. "I love you, Samantha. You're my wife. The mother of my son. To me, you are the most incredibly sexy and alluring woman in the world. Don't even doubt how you make me feel. Emotionally or physically."
"I just…"she bit her lip. "I don't want to disappoint you."
He frowned. "Why would you think you'd disappoint me?"
She shrugged. "Look at me," she said in a tiny voice. "When we first met, I had this killer body on me that you couldn't keep your hands off of. And then I got pregnant and I got big so quickly. And before long I was huge and now…just look at me, Donnie."
"I am looking at you," he told her. "Every inch of you. And I can't get enough of you."
"Well you're insane," she declared. "Because I don't know how you can stand looking at me."
"Maybe because you're fucking sexy and you turn me on and I love you."
She smiled.
"I've missed you, baby. I've missed us. The whole intimacy thing. I know it probably makes me sound like a sex maniac, but…"
She laid two fingertips over his lips. "I've missed us, too," she said. "I missed feeling your hands and your lips all over my body. I miss the feel of your skin against mine. And I miss how it feels when you're inside of me."
Her words, as simple as they were, made him shudder from head to toe. To hear that honesty in her voice, to see the sincerity and the desire and the longing in her eyes, was a bigger turn on then anything ever could be.
He leaned in to kiss her. But instead of seizing her mouth with his, he held her face in his hands and trailed the tip of his tongue over her top lip, followed by her bottom, then blazed a path of kisses along her jaw to her ear. His hands sliding from her face and down her neck and along her bare arms. Capturing her hands in his, he held them tightly as he looked deep into her eyes.
"I love you so much, Sammie," he whispered, his lips brushing hers. "Let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you."
"But…"
"No buts," he said, kissing her chastely. "It's just me and you here, baby. There's no one to interrupt us. We don't have to worry about the baby waking up for a feeding or dispatch calling me to send me to a scene. Nothing like that. It's me and you in this amazing hotel room. You can relax, okay?"
She nodded. "Please don't…" she bit her lip, unsure if she should continue.
"Please don't what?" Flack asked.
"Please don't look at me and be disappointed," she replied, tears sparkling in her eyes.
"That's never going to happen," he vowed. "You don't realize how beautiful you are. I wish you could see yourself like I see you."
"So do I," she sighed.
"Well seeing as that's not possible…" he kissed the corner of her lips before his mouth travelled along her jaw once again. "…how about I make you feel as beautiful as I see you?"
She smiled. "I like that idea. But what about my hair and my makeup?"
"Makeup can always be fixed up. I'm sure you brought some along with you."
She nodded.
"And as far as your hair goes, how about we do what we can to avoid messing it up?"
"But how…"
"You remember what I told you? A long time ago at the start of our relationship. About my thing for sex against a wall?"
She giggled. "I remember."
"Won't mess your hair if we do it that way."
"But we don't have a lot of time and.."
"I'll make it quick."
"It's been six months nearly, Donnie. Don't you think our first time should be romantic and slow and…"
"We got all night for that, babe. And all morning. And it has been six months. A long, long six months. Doing things for myself is not the same as making love to my wife. And as bad as this sounds for me to admit, after six months, I honestly don't think I'm going to last that long."
"Me either," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm kind of on a hair trigger. When I was in the bath earlier I kind of got myself into the mood with this book I was reading and I…well I had to do something about it. Only took about a minute."
"That fucking turns me on to hear you talk about doing things to yourself," he said, lips against her shoulder as he let go of one hand in order to reach behind her and undo her bra.
"I thought about you," she told him, her hand reaching into his pants once again. "I thought about you and what it would feel like to have you go down on me. To feel your lips and your tongue on my clit while you finger me."
"That turned you on?" he asked, his tongue tracing a path along her shoulder and down onto the top of her left breast.
She nodded. "You know what really turned me on, though?"
"What's that?" he asked, cupping her breast and lifting it, his tongue circling her aching, erect nipple.
"Don't do that!" she cried. "I'm breast feeding and I might…"
"Doesn't bother me," he assured her, causing her to moan as he sucked firmly on her nipple. He dropped her other hand and slid his over her thigh and between her legs. Pushing aside her panties, he touched her clit softly. "You're wet already, baby," he said, looking up at her. "Tell me what really turned you on earlier."
"I don't know if…"
"Tell me," he demanded. "I wanna hear it. What made you come? What were you thinking about when you had came earlier?"
"I was thinking about you fucking me," she breathed. "What it felt like to have your thick, hard cock inside of me."
He smiled and slid a finger inside of her abruptly. She cried out and gripped at his shoulder with one hand, the other tightening around his cock. "Let me fuck you then," he said, kissing his way up to her lips. "Let me show you that you just don't have to think about those things. Let me make you feel good, baby. Let me feel you come while I'm inside of you. Will you let me?"
She nodded and captured his mouth in a breathtaking kiss. Losing herself completely in his touch and in his smell. And in the feel of his strong hands cupping her ass and his length buried deep inside of her. Turned on by the way he spoke to her as he fucked her hard and fast up against that wall in their luxury hotel suite. His words spurring her want on as he talked about how tight and wet her pussy was. How much his cock had missed her pussy. How much he missed her.
And before long she was coming undone. Screaming his name with her nails digging into the back of his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.
Wholly and completely becoming one with him after so very long.
An hour and a half later, permanent smiles on their faces and an indescribable glow to her face, they finally emerged from their hotel room. Her makeup freshened up and her undergarments put back in order and her evening gown in place once more. Flack in his dress blues and polished police boots, carrying the uniform hat in one hand as his other sat on the small of his wife's back as they headed for the elevator.
"Think your bosses are going to know you just spent the last hour or so getting lucky?" Sam asked with a giggle.
He shrugged. "So what if they do. They'll just be jealous it wasn't them. It's probably been a long time since either Sinclair or Gerrard got laid. That being said, I warn you about his wife now."
"Whose? Gerrard's?"
Flack nodded and pressed the down button. "Her name is Etienne. Came here when she was a teenager from France. Her father got a job here on Wall Street. Her mother was some kind of big deal in Paris. I guess her old man was a huge politician or some shit. Whatever he was, her mother was a beauty Queen over there. Debutante I guess. So she thinks her shit doesn't stink."
"Is she pretty?" Sam asked curiously.
"For her age, I guess. I don't know. I don't look at women old enough to be my mother. I guess she's alright. She's had a lot of surgeries to try and look like she's still twenty. Trust me, they haven't worked. But she thinks they have. Botox, chin lift, eye lift, ass lift, nose job, boob job. You name it."
"How does she pay for all that when her husband is an Inspector with the NYPD? And why in the hell would someone like that marry someone like him? A cop? She obviously met him when they were younger and he wasn't part of upper management."
"They met when he was a uniform apparently. Don't know the particulars, but I guess she thought he was a bad boy. Maybe she's like you and has a cop fetish. From what I heard, daddy left her some huge inheritance. And we're talking in the seven zero's range. You didn't know that Gerrard was married to some rich bitch?"
Sam shook her head.
"He lives on the Upper West side in some damn mansion big enough to hold two Walmart's. I can't believe I never told you any of this before."
"Well Gerrard isn't exactly the first choice for our dinner conversations or pillow talk," Sam reasoned, stepping onto the elevator as the doors opened. "How come you're warning me about her? Is she going to eat me alive?"
"I doubt it. Once she hears your from Brooklyn she'll be shitting herself. I just know how you get when people think they're better then you. I know what kind of a mouth you have on you."
"In other words, play nice with the brass' wives," Sam concluded.
"Please and thank you," Flack said and hit the button for the main floor.
"And what about Sinclair's wife?" Sam asked.
Her husband shrugged. "She's relatively normal. Just an average girl. Michelle. Used to be a cop."
"Really?"
Flack nodded. "This is wife number four for him. He started out married to his high school sweetheart. As he climbed the ranks of the NYPD, he started ditching wives. He divorced the first one for some girl cop he was banging when he was captain of the three five. Married her, few ears later he met some woman that worked in victim's services. Divorced, married that girl. Few years ago, he dumped her for this pretty little uniform that crossed his path. They've only been married a couple of years. She's younger then you are."
Sam snorted and shook her head. "He's a dirty old man. Wasn't he sexually harassing people around that same time you were chasing the spy out of Devon's apartment?"
"That was the rumour," Flack said. "Of course no one talks about that."
"Of course not. God forbid anything got in his way of becoming Commissioner. I am telling you, the day he becomes Commissioner is the day I quit. Because the NYPD will seriously go down the shitter."
"I hope the Mayor doesn't fall for any of Sinclair's political bullshit and doesn't ever do anything that stupid," Flack sighed. "Guy would make a shitty Commissioner. Not that Faulkner is doing that good of a job at the moment. I mean four years after I get blown up I get an award? Four years? What the hell is that?"
"That's because they don't know a good thing when they see it," Sam reasoned. "Lucky for you, I do."
He smiled and kissed her temple. "You were amazing by the way," he said, pecking her shoulder.
She blushed slightly. "So were you," she said.
He kissed her softly.
"And I have to say," she eyed him from head to toe. "You look damn yummy."
"Yummy?" he chuckled.
"Very, very, very yummy," she said. "But you'd be even more yummy if you'd put the hat on."
He sighed and looked down at the offending object in his hand. "It's uncomfortable," he complained.
"Come on. Make your wife happy. If I'm happy, then you'll be happy later on when we get back to our room."
"You drive a hard bargain," Flack declared, and slipped the hat on.
"Be still my heart," she sighed. "Goddamnit you're hot."
"Glad to be of service," he said with a grin.
"Seriously, baby," she said. "You are. You have no idea what dress blues do to me. It's like arrest me officer. Frisk me. Cuff me. Strip search me. I have been a very, very, very bad girl."
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body tight against his. "How bad is bad?" he asked, his lips hovering over his.
She just smiled.
"Good thing for you I worked today so my cuffs are in the room," he told her. "And trust me. I plan on using them."
"You are on hell of a sexy police man," she sighed.
"Would you have still found me sexy and loved me had I been a construction worker or a garbage man or some shit?" he asked curiously.
"Donnie, I would have loved you and found you sexy no matter what."
He smiled and kissed her softly.
"Then I would have made you dress up as a police man when we had sex," she said, and burst into giggles.
"You are a bad girl," he told her, as the elevator reached the main floor and the doors opened up.
"The baddest," she said, winking over her shoulder as she stepped into the lobby.
He grinned, checking out her ass as her dress swayed against her body with each step she took.
Forget about being a sexy police man, he thought as he followed her. I'm the luckiest cop in the entire damn world.
Thanks to everyone that is still adding this story to alerts and favs! I am sorry it took so long to post again on this, but the muse had all but abandoned me. But now it's back. And therefore, VFB will be taking a little break. Hope you will all come back when VFB makes its return!
Much love and thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter posted forever ago!