"Nicki?!" She said, sitting up staring at Geoffrey. His head was between her legs, and he was licking her pussy. Geoffrey, still sitting there, looked up, wagging his tail and smiling with his tongue hanging out happily. She had forgotten he was there. "Does he have to watch and participate?"
"Huh?"
"It's just, I don't know, a bit creepy."
"Oh! Fuck, sorry about that. I'll put him out back." Nicki had been in the process of putting a condom on. He tossed the Pleasure Pack he was holding on the bed and went down the hall calling Geoffrey. When had he grabbed the condoms? She thought.
When Nicki returned, he grabbed a new condom. He leaned across her and kissed her hard, then pulled back and ripped into the package looking down at her with passion scrawled across his face. She had stopped him before he started to roll it up. She'd forgotten about him.
Maybe he needed her mouth on him. That's what Jon
Nicki had open condoms all over the place. He was on condom number sixteen and had just got it on correctly when Veronica got to the door. She stood at the door, gaping, probably looking very much like Chloe had the other day in the reverse situation, but no one had seen her and wouldn't be able to tell her if that were true or not. Veronica began screaming bloody murder. "You bitch! How could you! We're best friends! You fucking cunt!" She screamed and lunged forward trying to get at Chloe. Chloe began crab crawling up the bed and out of the way, completely naked and only slightly aware of that fact. She was more so alert to the crazy woman who somewhat resembled her best friend, Veronica, now coming at her. Jonathan came rushing into the room and looked around. Seeing Nicki and Chloe naked and used condoms everywhere, he immediately flung himself at Nicki. "You son of a bitch" He growled while in mid-air over the naked stunned Nikki, w
Chloe woke up with a start to smelling salts a female Emergency Medical Technician had waved over her nose. The EMT's had arrived at the house shortly after the police and stepped under the yellow tape that had already been put up. A short, bulky guy with peach fuzz hair and a hard jaw was squatting in front of Chloe and taking her vitals. "My name is Josh." He said. "Can you tell me your name?" "Um…Chloe Ellen Mackenzie er Harris." The smelling salts they used on her burned her nose. It had also stung and pinched a bit but was over almost as soon as it started. "How old are you Mrs. Harris?" Josh asked her in a rather concerned voice though he didn't look concerned. He looked matter of fact. Assessing her for what? Some sort of mental instability, probably, Chloe thought. "29." She told him. After they had finished taking her vitals, which were somewhat normal for such an ordeal, they gave t
"I woke up late, around elevenish, left the house to get a birthday gift. First, I stopped at Starbucks for a white chocolate mocha. Then the local florist to get daisies for my dad, then to see my dad, then to the grocery store, I needed milk. Then I got pulled over by fucking Pike for littering." "Littering?" He interjected, his eyebrow going up again. This time, she could have sworn she saw him smirk. For some odd reason, the sight warmed her slightly. "Er. Well, I sort of tossed an ice cream container out my passenger window in a mild fit of hysteria. I was eating too much and having a bad day." "Hysteria, hmm? A bad day shopping?" Again he wore that quiet smirk. "Well, yes, sort of. Mostly visiting my dad was a little distracting, I suppose." "Ah. So Officer Pike," he said with a hint of mockery, "pulled you over then what? Did he cuff and book you?"
"Please continue, Mrs. Harris." He encouraged her. "Well, he sort of fingered me a bit, and the dog licked me, then he was trying to get the er, um, the condom on, but he could figure them out, I guess." "The dog?" "Oh! No, Nicki put Geoffrey outside. No, Nicki was putting on the condoms. I um, we didn't use those things, Jon and I. Jon did at first, but then I went on the pill, and that was ages ago." "Right. What time was that?" He interjected, his eyebrow going up slightly again. This time she could have sworn she saw him smirk. For some odd reason, the sight warmed her slightly, though she had no idea why he was smirking. "You left the restaurant to go to his house?" "Er. Well, I…around seven, I think, I dropped him at work to get his car then went to his house...Yeah, it was five minutes to seven when we left because Veronica was going to spin class,
"Oh." Chloe hadn't realized how close she had gotten to Mr. Policeman. She had been staring into those eyes and getting a little lost while he talked and was nearly an inch away. She quickly took a step back and looked down at her shoes to keep from being hypnotized further. He didn't seem to take notice. "You'll hear from your lawyer in a day or two, I'm sure, about wills and life insurance and all that. Technically Jonathan is a homicide, while Nicki is a murder and Veronica suicide, according to your story. But we are still looking into things. So Nicki's next of kin will be notified and all that jazz. As far as the police are concerned, well, I've got a lot of paperwork, and the labs will be busy. You are still a suspect, so you don't need to contribute to this case other than staying out of trouble and staying in town." She could swear he was suggesting she were guilty, and it felt like he was also flirting with her. Something about his eyes seeme
Chloe woke up the next morning on the couch with a crick in her neck and a bit of a headache. She was exhausted and didn't know what to do. First, she needed to call Aunt Lane. She was the only family Chloe had left, and she needed to tell her what happened or at least summarize. She didn't want to repeat the whole story again. She hadn't wanted to tell the story last night to Mr. Policeman, but he was just sitting there nibbling away at her soul with his eyes and his smirk, and god, he was something. She wouldn't mind office sex with him. He had left her at home, asked if she was going to be okay, handed her a card, and said to call if she needed anything, and that was that, she thought. She wasn't too sure. She felt as though something was missing. She couldn't quite remember him leaving, really. The card, where did she put it, she found it on a side table near where she had kicked off her shoes. She didn't think she would sleep after what happened, but she
Chloe had made a quick call to work and they assured her bereavement time was already set up then she finally found the spare key to Jon's desk after looking for nearly an hour. He always kept one on his keychain, but there was always a spare in the house somewhere. It was her copy, but she never really had a use for it, so she often misplaced it. Jon had always used the desk and handled legal matters and all the numbers for things like bills and whatever else needed to be done. He was, after all, an accountant. She knew his key to the desk more than likely was at the police station being swabbed and prodded or stored in a plastic bag. She sat down at the large mahogany desk and took a deep breath. She had no clue what to expect from the lawyer or what to even say. She picked up the landline. She never used it, not even once, but she thought it was appropriate for some reason. She dialed the number on the business card paper clipped to some legal documents she knew nothing a
Chloe looked at the clock. It was already closing in on 1:00 p.m. She still needed to call the insurance company, but first, she wanted a nice hot shower and a cup of coffee. She walked to the master bedroom and glanced at the bed with a shiver running down her spine. She quickly skirted past it and through her walk-in to the attached master bathroom. It wasn't much, just big enough for a tub, toilet, and sink with a little window on one end. She stripped and tossed her clothes in the closet then ran the shower in the tub to get it hot while she brushed her teeth at the sink. She took a long hot shower, zoning out and fading in and out of numbness before the water became cold. She had just finished getting dressed with her hair up in a towel when the doorbell rang. She was barefoot in straight mom jeans and an old worn t-shirt that had been her dad's. She didn't want to wear any of her polo shirts that matched Jonathans, not today, not ever again. She only had the one new ou