Page 15 of Ruining Vanessa

I’m sure there have been better hand jobs out there. Giulio has gotten me off faster, with more expertise. But because it’s Vanessa’s hand, because of her timid strokes, because of her soft hair and skin and gasps, everything is amplified. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge at this languid pace.

She’s breathing slowly, though there’s a hitch to the sound as I keep toying with her nipples. I can’t help but wonder if she’s getting aroused, period or not.

I groan at the idea of her feeling pleasure all of the time, not just when she expects it. We have so much to teach her. It strikes me how young she is compared to me, only half my age, but it only fills me with affection. She’s so inexperienced, but she takes to every lesson so beautifully.

I finally tip over the edge, spilling out into her hand, and she startles, drawing back so I end up spilling onto my pants. I frown at her.

“Why did you pull away?” I ask, disappointed.

“Sorry.” She holds up her hand, stained with some of my semen. “I was surprised. It was so… hot.”

I wish she meant hot in the good sense, but I know what she actually means. I sigh. It’s tempting to make her lick her hand clean, or lick my cock clean at least, but instead, I choose to get a cloth and clean us both up. It’s a good thing I don’t have any meetings scheduled for the rest of the evening.

When I’m done, I coax her down into the bed with me again, wrapping my arms around her.

“Sleep,” I whisper. “You’ve earned it.”

Vanessa sighs, but she doesn’t argue. I lie there with her for a long time, and it’s only when her breathing has evened out and I realize she’s actually managed to fall asleep in my arms that I gently extract myself from her. I get up, gazing at her from the doorway.

It was too early to get my hopes up. But she will get pregnant soon.

She has to.

4

SLAYER

Monday morning meetings are the fucking worst. Not because I’m not awake yet—I’ve been up for a few hours already—but because everybody else is still sleep deprived and grumbling about how they hate Mondays and they’d rather be doing anything else.

A meeting this early in the week, this early in the morning, means something important is up, too. Nobody wants important shit to happen.

My precinct’s captain is sitting near the front, but the person at the little podium is somebody I recognize as a sergeant from a neighboring district. He’s tall and dark skinned, with a beard, and I bet Giulio would have called him hot—but he likes the hairy types. Like Damien.

“If you’re all done complaining,” the man says with a scowl. “We’ve got a serious matter to discuss.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He doesn’t have to say it’s serious for us to know it, not with all of us gathered here like sardines.

Captain Parker nods and sits up in his seat a little. He’s a round man, the donuts and lack of gym making him soft in all the wrong places. Or maybe it was all the burgers—wouldn’t want to stereotype an officer of the law.

“Get your asses into your seats, you deadbeats. Sergeant Conteh’s from the 52nd Precinct, and they need our cooperation.”

“What, they can’t handle their own cases?” somebody behind me says. Everybody breaks out into laughter, although Conteh isn’t smiling.

“Yeah, funny.” Conteh uses the clicker to start up his slideshow presentation.

The first image to flicker on the screen in front is one that stops my heart in my chest.

It’s the undercover cop I murdered.

He’s looking a lot nicer with his hair slicked back and wearing a proper uniform, but there’s no denying it’s him.

I force myself to breathe, but thankfully, nobody’s paying attention to me. Shit. I’d known there was a good chance someone would investigate his disappearance, but I hadn’t thought they’d bring it straight to my precinct. Obviously, they aren’t having any luck following his tracks and they’re running into dead ends.

That’s good, because it means they aren’t looking into Ntimacy as his last known target.

“This is Officer Fernando Baca,” Conteh says. “He’s been missing for almost three weeks now.”

Has it been that long? Damn, time flies when you’re having fun trying to knock up a chick. I get the feeling I won’t be as carefree in the coming days, though.

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