Giving In (The Sandy Cove Series Book 1) (2 page)

“These are some hot ass panties you’re sporting,
girl.”

“Thanks, Victoria’s Secret does a woman
good.”

“I’ll say. I wish I could rip them with my
teeth.”

“Oh, I caught myself a kinky one, now did
I.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t a clue.”

“Don’t come yet, are you ready? I’ll slide it on
for you.”

“I was born ready, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby.”

“That’s right. You’re just some dirty little
girl I just met at a bar, right? Oh, yea, you like that, don’t you?
That’s it, just like that, ride my hand.”

“Oh, God, I love it when you talk dirty. Yes,
tonight, I’m a dirty, dirty girl about to fuck a guy whose name I
don’t even know against a bathroom wa… OH, fucking A! I’m ready.
Come on and let me put it in already.”

“Fine, be my guest, and I told you, the name is
Raphael, not God, but if you start screaming his name out as I make
you come, then so be it. I’ve been called a lot worse.”

“Wow, seriously dude, this hardly fits you.”

“Yea, well, I ran out of the extra large and
this is all they had at the convenience sto… ooo… rrrreee, fuck you
are tight as a frickin’ vice. Stupendous.”

“So what do you do for a liv… liv… Oh yea,
harder. Oh Christ.”

“A living? Police Academy, as of now. Oh yea,
like that, you feel so fucking good.”

“You are going to split me in two. Good
Lord.”

“I bet you say that to all the strangers you
fuck in bar bathrooms.”

“Nope. Never. I’m a bathroom virgin. I’ve never
done this before. Who in the name of all that’s sacred and holy
taught you how to kiss? Phenomenal.”

“A girl from my neighborhood. She’s like five
years older than me. I asked her, and she showed me. We kissed a
lot. Now she’s married to my brother.”

“Awkward.”

“Not anymore. My God you are the hottest girl
I’ve ever been with, and believe me, there’s been plenty, but you,
Harlow, are fan-fucking-tastic.”

“You are quite drunk, but thank you very
much.”

“You are most welcome. Oh God ba… aaa… baby, I’m
going to come, are you with me?”

“Yes, yes, yes, but I told you don’t call me… Oh
God, here I go. Ahhh. YES.YES.YES!”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right.”

“I’ve never…”

“Me neither.”

“Um, so what do we do now?”

“Nothing. Go back out there with our friends.
You go to one end of the bar, I’ll go to other.”

“That’s cold, baby. So can I have your last
name?”

“What did I tell you?”

“Yea, yea, don’t call you baby. I gotcha.
Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. And no last names, it
complicates things. This was… fun. Let’s just leave it at what it
is. Well, Raphael, it was a pleasure.”

“Pleasure is putting it lightly, don’t you
think, Harlow? That’s what you said your name was right?”

“Yes, or you could name me the random dirty girl
you just fucked against the wall of a bar bathroom.”

“I’d rather call you the best fuck I’ve ever
had, will that suffice?”

“Well then I take that as a huge compliment, I’m
flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Shake my hand, Raphael, and let’s get on with
our lives.”

“Nice meeting you.”

“Same to you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

***

Looks like it’s a slow night. You wouldn’t
think it since it’s the beginning of the summer and all. How many
God damn crossword puzzles can one person do in one night? How many
times can I check my Facebook, or tweet shit? There has to be some
dumbass teenager riding his Mongoose somewhere, half cocked off his
rear. Maybe two horned up teenagers fucking in a car. I can give
them one hell of a scare by banging my flashlight on their
fogged-up window and make them shit their pants. That would be
hysterical. At the most maybe I’ll be able to get a glance at some
naked titties. But noooo… I have to stay here at this stupid side
street and watch for drunk drivers. Now doesn’t that sound like a
party? This boredom is almost too much to bear. Maybe I should text
the little honey I did doggie style last night. I’d tap that again.
What was her name again… Kelly, Shelly, Melly? Doesn’t matter as
long as she doesn’t get too clingy.

I still have six more hours of this shift to go.
This patrol car gets uncomfortable after being in it for a few
hours. I should be drinking with my friends. It’s literally our
second night here. When I got this rent-a-cop job, I didn’t expect
to be working so soon, but this is a busy place. There are lots of
clubs and bars, and that equals plenty of derelicts roaming the
streets. So, while all my boys are getting acquainted with the
ladies who, apparently, moved in next door today, I’m here, in this
car, listening to calls come in over the radio to and from the
station. My phone is buzzing. I’m guessing it’s Max or Porter
texting to tell me how I’m missing out on some new hot pussy.

Oh, wait, never mind, it’s Kelly, Shelly, Melly.
Fuck me, her name is Stacy. How the hell did I screw that up?
Probably cause her name ends in a ‘Y’, or probably ‘cause I could
give two shits less what her name is. I was drunk. She was there at
the bar, waiting for it. I took her back to my house, and I gave it
to her. My motto: get in, get off, and get the fuck out. I’ve
always made my decisions about chicks based on this. It’s who I am,
and I could care less who thinks it’s wrong. I don’t do
relationships. I saw the constant stream of boyfriends come and go
from my crack-head mother’s life, including my dad, so I want no
parts of them. Zero, zilch, nada. Her text says she wants to know
what time I get off, so she can get off.

Classy.

I send a quick text back:

Working till 6 AM. TTYL

I’m putting my phone on silent. I don’t even
want to see a response from her. Why did I even give her my number?
They are usually the ones giving theirs to me. I must have been
pretty wasted to do it.

Oh, God, I seriously want to bang my head
against this window. If it’s going to be this boring all summer
long, next year I’ll stay home. I’ll get a permanent job somewhere
in the city. It’ll be a lot more exciting with all the drug dealers
and gang members, that’s for sure. I’ll miss this though. The shore
house, the summers with no worries. Fuck worrying. Oh, whoa, oh…
Oh… Looks like my night just got better. Look at this car driving
10 mph and swerving back and forth. Holy shit, I may just have hit
the jackpot. God damn drunks. I have to pull out and start flashing
those pretty lights.

Thank God they’re pulling over, and I don’t have
to chase them. A car chase would be super cool. Never did one of
those before. That will have to wait for another day. The person
shut their car off, but left their lights on. The sand and gravel
beneath my feet is noisy as I approach the car. I tap on the
window. The headlights from my car shine straight through the
drunk’s car, which I know will piss this asshole off to no end.
Drunks have no patience. Ask my crack-head mom. Did I mention she’s
a drunk too? The drunk rolls down the window. It’s a chick, but I
only see her profile. The bright lights are blinding her, so she
stares straight ahead, squinting at the reflection of my headlights
in her rear-view mirror.

“License and registration, please. Have you been
drinking this evening?”

She speaks quietly as she rummages through her
glove compartment for her car registration.

“No, no sir. I’m lost. I’m on my way to my
rental house and I have no idea where I’m going. It’s only the
second time I’ve been to this shore point.”

Oh, man, I don’t need her whole God damn life
story.

“Just give me your license and registration
first please, then we can discuss this.” She hands it over, her
head down. I snatch it from her hands and take a look. I shine my
flashlight down onto the license.

Then I feel it. The dropping of my stomach. The
undeniable shock as I look at the name on the license.

Holy fucking shit. Her name is Harlow. The name
swirls around in my head, makes me dizzy still. A year later.

Harlow, as in the girl I fucked in the bathroom
of one of the bars down here last summer. Harlow… Harlow. Still to
this day, I find that name so odd. Guess that’s why it stuck in my
head, my smaller head actually. Who the fuck names their kid
Harlow? Then again, who names their kid Raphael. Oh, yea, that’s
right. My crack-head mother.

Still, it’s her. I will never forget her or that
tight as fuck pussy of hers. She never gave me her last name, so I
had no idea where to find her. If I can remember that night after
the dozen and a half beers I had, I’d go back for seconds. It
doesn’t happen often, well actually, not really at all, but you
don’t forget a hot-pocket like hers. What I also remember is that
she was cold, bitchy, but she was dominant and had complete control
over the situation. I recall the major headache I had later that
night, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. Instead, it was from the
constant pulling of my hair as she hung on to it as I lifted her
ass and legs and slid my cock in. It was single-handedly the
hottest thing I have ever done in my life; fuck a stranger in a
bathroom, not giving last names. I’ve practically done it all. You
name it, I’ve done it, and then some. Sometimes two at a time, but
this was new for me. If I remember correctly, it was the same way
for her, just for a fuck, to get in, and you heard it before my
friends, to get off, and to get out.

That little light bulb goes off above my
head.

Revenge is sweet, just like that snatch of hers.
I silently laugh inside, and I feel like a mad scientist ready to
have his experiment come to life. Cue my maniacal laugh.

Harlow Hannum.

Hannum.

“Miss Hannum, will you please step out of the
car and make your way to the back of your vehicle.”

She starts to protest and with an attitude.
Imagine that. I stand with my arms securely crossed over my chest,
legs slightly apart, in an intimidating stance mind you.

“Sir, I haven’t done anything wrong. I was going
slowly because I was looking for the street my rental house is on.
I may have swerved a few times, but that’s because I dropped my
phone on the floor of my car and I was trying to pick it up. I’m
not drunk.”

I clear my throat to scare her. Miss Pissy Pants
puts her head down and lets out a sigh.

“I’ll be the judge of that Miss Hannum. Please
step out of the vehicle.”

She reluctantly steps out with her head still
down and makes her way to the back of her car. I pull my hat down a
little further. No way am I having this chick recognize me. Maybe
she wouldn’t anyway, but I’m not taking that chance.

She tries to turn to look at me as I make my way
back towards where she is standing. I can tell she’s wearing
glasses, and her hair is pulled up in a ponytail.

“Sir, if you would just let me explain.”

“No need to right now, Miss Hannum. I’m going to
give you a sobriety test. If you fail, you are coming down to the
station with me for a blood alcohol test. Do you understand?”

She nods. I notice she’s acting shy, not looking
up at me, and submitting to my demands. That’s a totally different
girl than the one I screwed. Do you have any idea how many times
over the last year I jerked off to that scenario? Hmm, let me
count! ALOT! All I know is this is going to be fun!

“Have you ever had a sobriety test before, Miss
Hannum?” Her side is to me, and she’s leaning against the car, but
is still refusing to look up. I’m praying she hasn’t had one
before, so she doesn’t see straight through my plan.

“No, sir. I have not.”

Ohh, her calling me sir makes my cock
twitch.

“Then you have no idea what’s involved. Is that
correct, Miss Hannum?”

“No, sir, I don’t.”

Thank God.

“I have never been pulled over before. If you
just check my driving record, you will see that I have never even
had a ticket. I’m a teacher, sir, and I can’t afford to have a
blemish on my record.”

A teacher, she tells me. Now stop and wait a
damn minute. Back up the truck. That just made our whole encounter
last year so, so much hotter. I fucked a teacher in a bathroom of a
bar, didn’t know her last name, and now I’m pulling her over. Where
the fuck is David Lee Roth when you need him to serenade you?

“Fine, Miss Hannum. You will do everything I
tell you to do. First, I need you to face sideways and close your
eyes. Then I need you to extend your arms outward, take each of
your index fingers and touch the tip of your nose, and return them
to the outward position.” She sighs. She fucking sighs like she’s
annoyed. I have to laugh to myself because I’m enjoying watching
her be miffed. She does what I say. I bite the inside of my lip as
I watch her. That’s it, dirty girl, do as I say.

“I need you to walk along the edge of this grass
line with one foot in front of the other.”

She does what I tell her with a little less
annoyance.

“Fine, Miss Hannum. Now please close your eyes
and recite the alphabet.” She crosses her arms, pushing up those
nice, big chesticles as she does so. I immediately make her
stop.

I say in my cockiest voice, “Backwards, Miss
Hannum, backwards. You’re a teacher. It shouldn’t be that
difficult.”

“Are you serious?” She answers in a high pitched
squeal.

“As a heart attack, Miss Hannum. Now
proceed.”

And she does it. She fucking recites the
alphabet backwards. That’s fucking hot.

“Very good, Miss Hannum. Now I need you to
repeat after me, dum what diddy, diddy dum, diddy do.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Oh, she’s feisty.
Me likey.