UP IN FLAMES

“Want me to see if I can track down some of the numbers? I got a friend who’s a friend of a player on the Falcons. And obviously I can’t do nothing else but sit behind a desk.”

Alaric laughed as he pushed the list over. “Who do you know?”

“Remember the Redskins cheerleader two years ago? The one who was being stalked by that parolee? Well, we’ve stayed in contact. I’m sure she can make a few calls and point us in the right direction.”

Alaric shook his head. “Yeah, I bet the contact you’ve been staying in has been totally professional and doesn’t involve your cock.”

“I am not talking to you about my cock.”

Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “Do I need to remind you of the number-one rule?”NôvelDrama.Org © content.

“Whatever.” Paul pushed himself up. “You don’t have to. I’m engaged to a beautiful woman now. I should be the one asking you…. Do I need to remind you about the rule?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Paul laughed as he ambled out of the office, closing the door behind him. Looking back at the screen, Alaric let about five seconds go by before his gaze fell to the small card propped along his keyboard. He thought about the nightie that had been lying on Vanessa’s bed, and his jeans tightened.

Alaric knew the rules. He just didn’t always follow them. Besides, it’s not like the lady was still married or involved with anyone. She wasn’t even with Christopher before he died, so what the fuck. Picking up the card, a slow smile spread across his face. He wanted to say that it would’ve made a difference if he wasn’t working on her case, but Alaric hadn’t made a habit of lying to himself before. Why start now? And besides, didn’t Bobby tell him to do whatever he had to do and use whatever he could to his advantage?

There was something about Little Mrs Vanessa Spencer that got to him, crawled under his skin, and had him acting worse than Paul before he got engaged. He didn’t know what it was or what it would mean, but he would find out. Because unlike Paul, when he wanted something, he didn’t fuck around and neither did he spend time bullshitting himself. When Alaric wanted something, he went right for it.

And he wanted Vanessa.

——–

The door to her office flew open and Anita walked in with a smile plastered on her face. Vanessa smacked her hands down on the edge of her desk.

“You don’t know how to knock?” she asked, but she was smiling too.

Anita wasn’t listening. Instead, she popped herself onto Vanessa’s desk, “I was driving by and I decided to come over and say hello,” she said, “How are you doing?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Horrible,” she said. She told Anita about everything that had happened after the shooting. The notes, the car wrecking, the break-in and the cameras. By the time she was done talking, Anita’s mouth was wide open.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, “I’m so sorry you’re going through all this but I’m glad you left… At least for now. Why didn’t you come stay with me?” she added with a hurt and concerned look on her face.

“I’m sorry, but it’s dangerous” Vanessa replied, “And the last thing I want to do right now is to put you in any kind of danger. Besides, the hotel I’m staying in has security and I’m sure I’ll be safe there for a while,”

Her phone rang, causing her to jump. There was no number on the caller ID, so it had to be an outside number. Picking up the phone, she watched Anita slide off the table and onto a chair.

“Good afternoon. This is Vanessa Spencer.” She said, using her professional voice.

“I prefer Mrs Spencer. Sounds like you want to punish someone when you say it.”

Holy shit. It was Alaric. She didn’t know about her punishing him, but she could totally picture him punishing her. Her cheeks felt hot, and across from her, curiosity marked Anita’s face.

The gap of silence stretched out obnoxiously. “Vanessa, are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here. Sorry,” she blurted out, blinking several times. “You, uh, caught me off guard.” She wished she were alone, because he had to have discovered something. “What can I help you with?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice low and smooth. “I want you.”

Her mouth rounded. He wanted her?

A deep chuckle sent a shiver down her spine.

“You haven’t had lunch yet.”

For a moment, his words didn’t process, and then they did. How did he know she hadn’t had lunch? Her eyes darted to the clock on her monitor. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Some people have a late lunch.”

Painfully aware Anita was listening, she tightened her fingers around the phone. “Already had lunch.” She lied.

“Liar,” came the quick reply. “So, what about dinner?”

Why in the hell was he asking her about dinner now? “Did you find anything out about what you’re looking into?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Smothering a ripe curse, she smiled tightly at Anita and then twisted sideways in her chair. “I will probably be working late tonight. And as you know, I’m at work right now, so I really shouldn’t be on the phone.”

“I’m at work and I’m on the phone.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she bent over and reached for her purse again. “Well, that’s your business. Not mine,”

“True,” he replied, and then she heard him make a sound that had her stomach tightening. Was he stretching? Touching himself? “I spoke with Michelle Ward. She’s not the culprit. Still looking into it.”

She was totally picturing him touching himself now. Hand in his unbuttoned jeans, no shirt-he couldn’t be wearing a shirt in her fantasy-and his hand around his thickness, slowly stroking himself. A sharp pulse pounded between her thighs. Like a match thrown to gasoline, her body sparked alive. Her response startled her.

It also sort of thrilled her.

“Vanessa?” The way he said her name was as though he was tasting it on his tongue. “Did you hang up on me?”

“No. I’m just busy.” Busy picturing him masturbating. Her brain really needed to work itself out. She sat up, and once Anita saw her face, her friend frowned. “Thanks for the update. I’ll have to call you later.”

“I’ll call you.” he said,