The construction company I worked for, Herveaux and Son, was small in terms of administrative staff. So I thought I’d have to be stealthy when I slipped into the office almost an hour late. But because it was so small, I didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off.
Which was why I brought backup, in the form of the box of brownies my Aunt Linda had left outside my door, sometime during my drunken amnesia spell the night before.
It was no secret Jackson Herveaux was the Sweet Tooth Pack Master of Shreveport.
But when I got to work, there wasn’t anyone around.
Was it a holiday?
If Amelia let me believe it was a workday when it wasn’t, that bitch wouldn’t be getting a single crumb of the chocolate nirvana I’d brought with me.
But when I reached my desk, in addition to my monitor being on and a now cold cup of coffee sitting right next to it, there was a water bottle filled with something other than water and a note.
Out with the boss on a site visit. I told him you were in the john because your uterus was reenacting D-Day and he ran off like Herveaux is French for Hitler, so I don’t think Adolph will be giving you any problems today. And I left you a little hair of the dog I found in my purse this morning. I think it’s a Bloody Mary. Drunk Me is always trying to help out Hungover Me. Meddlesome bitch can be pretty sweet sometimes.
Not the Bloody Mary or the bloodied beaches of Normandy not taking place in my panties, but Amelia’s lie-on-the-fly meant I probably wouldn’t even get huffed at for wearing a Tom Brady jersey to work.
Jack was a Cowboys fan.
But since I figured I’d already pushed my luck enough the night before by ending up in some stranger’s apartment, and since I didn’t want karma to pown my ass completely, I figured I oughtta get it to work.
Sometime around mid-morning, Jason manscheduled a lunch date for us and while it wasn’t unusual, it also wasn’t unusual for him to bail on me if something better came along.
Better = Someone who would give him more bang for his fuck.
But knowing I was still karma’s bitch for the foreseeable future, I was worried about seeing him and hoped he would run into a willing vagina or three before noon. He hadn’t mentioned knowing anything about my escapades from the night before, so maybe that meant he didn’t know Dirty Harry.
However I wasn’t feeling especially lucky.
So when the lunch hour was creeping closer, I gathered my things – and my brownie distractors to distract Jason if he planned on giving me a Come-to-Jesus as an appetizer – and shot Amelia a quick text to let her know where I’d be.
Her responding text was immediate.
Ames: Come to Merlotte’s. We stopped in for lunch and I met the most amazing guy!
Because the day ended in ‘Y’.
But I played along anyway.
Me: Oh yeah? What’s his name?
Ames: Who cares? He’s a firefighter AND he’s in a band! I’m pregnant just thinking about him.
Because the day ended in ‘Y’.
I lost track of time while we continued our back and forth chit chat, as I waited on the bench out front for Jason to pick me up. And since I was nervous and hungry, I figured eating a brownie or two wouldn’t hurt.
Their density might even soak up whatever was left of the alcohol in my system and, if not, the chocolate would make up for the lack of any other kinds of fluids I didn’t partake in the night before.
Aunt Linda had always been a kickass baker, but the brownies seemed to be especially good. Or maybe I was just that hungry and having an Eddie Murphy moment.
‘Goddamn! That’s the best cracker I ever ate in my life!’
I was on my third one by the time my phone buzzed in my hand with a text from my nearly forgotten brother.
Jason: Running a little late. I ran into a couple of…citizens…who need my help.
Citizens = vaginas.
I was all for avoiding him today anyway, but that didn’t mean I would go down as easily as the panties worn by whoever these citizens were.
Me: “Help,” as in deciding which one you do first or ACTUAL help?
Jason: A couple of girls stopped me and asked for my help picking out lingerie. I’ve sworn an oath, sis. Somebody’s gotta be on the front lines doin’ the dirty deed. I mean, work.
He was lucky I really didn’t want to see him anyway. And the especially good brownies left me in an especially good mood, so I thought I’d be an especially good sister and help him out.
Me: Tell one of them whatever she tries on makes her look fat and tell the other one whatever it is she’s wearing makes her ass look too big. You’ll wreck their self-esteem and then both of them will want to do you to make themselves feel better.
Jason: You’re the most understanding sister a guy could ask for. You gotta Plan B for lunch?
Me: I gotta Plan B in my medicine cabinet at home, but I don’t plan on having the same kinda lunch as you, so I won’t need it.
Jason: Stop it. You’re a virgin. Don’t ruin my appetite with truths I don’t wanna know.
That right there was exactly why I didn’t want Jason to find out about the night before. But my chocolate fueled mood was only getting better and I giggled typing out my response.
Me: Fine. The TRUTH is I’ve already eaten three of Aunt Linda’s brownies, waiting on your sorry ass to pick me up. I’ll be fine.
Jason: Aunt Linda made them? Sook…how many fingers am I holding up?
I didn’t see his fingers or what his point was. Aunt Lin might be a vegan hippie, but that bitch could bake like a mother fucker.
Me: Sshhh…I can’t tell you. It’s Victoria’s Secret.
I snorted at my own joke and got lost in the grain of the wooden bench for a second.
It was so swirly.
And then I wondered if there were any Cheetos in the vending machine.
Cheetos sounded really good right about now.
I don’t know how much time had passed, when I felt my face frown, seeing the patrol car pulling up to the curb a little while later.
I felt it with my fingers. It felt weird.
But seeing the tall drink of Om-Nom-Nom getting out of the car, I felt my frown turn upside down.
Still, with my fingers.
“Hey Chester,” I smiled, wanting to eat him over a bag of Cheetos any day.
His eyes narrowed into slits.
I had a narrow slit too.
He could even eat it if he wanted to.
“Is that an autographed Tom Brady jersey you’re wearing?” he asked, sounding all kinds of spanky.
Not Little Rascals Spanky, but like he wanted to spank me.
And my eyes strayed to his nightstick, poorly hidden behind his zipper, hoping I could entice him to smack me with something of his, by being naughty and laughing out, “No, it’s an autographed Gisele Bundchen’s husband’s jersey I’m wearing.”
He looked vaguely familiar, in a dreamy sort of way, so I took a look at the name on his uniform when he finally came to a stop in front of me.
And then I remembered it was D-Day.
But since he was so tall, I decided I needed to stand up on the bench if I was going to have any chance of conquering his vast land.
Because I had every intention of invading Northmanistan.
Jason – being Jason – of course bailed on fucking with his sister in favor of fucking someone else, but I had every intention of following through.
Both fucking with and fucking his sister.
But I didn’t know whether to be amused or pissed, seeing she was wearing my Tom Brady jersey. But something about it all caused another kind of reaction in me, telling me there were more pressing matters to attend to.
And it was back to pressing against my zipper, seeing her wearing my clothes.
While I was still trying to formulate some sort of comeback that didn’t involve the words ‘strip’ and ‘search’ – or my actual cum on her back – my phone buzzed in my pocket, alerting me to a new text.
Jay: You know how I told you my Aunt Lin just got back from Colorado? Well I think my sister might be climbing the Rocky Mountain High. She just told me she ate a few of Aunt Lin’s brownies for lunch. Can you check on her?
I had to hide my grin. Jason’s family was…unusual. After meeting them for the first time, at first I thought maybe he was the black sheep of the family by joining the force.
Now I knew better and suspected it had more to do with keeping them from having arrest records a mile long.
But their illegal mischief was minor – and legal in the state of Colorado now – and looking up from my phone, I knew his suspicions were true.
Because Sookie’s 34D’s were glassy and dilated.
Me: On it.
It took me two tries because my subconscious kept typing, ‘In it.’
And because I was still in the fucking and fucking with her mood, I gave her my cop stare and asked, “Are you under the influence of an illegal substance, Miss?”
“No,” she grinned and then offered, “But I plan on being a bad influence to you once I get you under me.”
And then without warning, she jumped. I barely had the time to catch her, when she wrapped herself around me like a barnacle and exclaimed, “The air is so much better way up here!”
It wasn’t too bad from where I was either.
Now that my face was planted smack dab in between her even larger set of eyes.
And when she shifted her body against my face, I knew those pupils were contracted.
It wasn’t even cold out.
But when she shifted again, she nearly kneed me in the balls. So I dipped her body, like we were ballroom dancing, to give my balls some much needed room and warned, “Hey now…watch the family jewels!”
I had plans for them later on that involved bedazzling her in my cum.
She just stared up at me with a huge smile on her face and giggled, “So if you have family jewels, does that mean I have a jewelry box?”
It made me want to go on a treasure hunt to find out.
And when she wiggled her eyebrows at me, I fell out of my attempted Bad Cop character for just a moment and laughed because there was no way to really fuck with her, if she was really that fucked up. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little bit of fun, so I pulled us upright and set her down facing the patrol car.
Holding her hands against the roof with one of my own, I said, “You’re under arrest for felony theft.”
The borrowed jersey she was wearing cost well over a thousand dollars, so it could be true.
If I was willing to file a complaint against her.
However the only complaint I had was that she kept getting fucked up when I needed her to be sober enough to consent to fuck me.
But instead of being bothered by my words, she only giggled and asked, “How can that be when your jewels aren’t in my box yet?”
It was good to know at least I wasn’t the only one thinking it.
But since she seemed happy to play along – or maybe she was just looking forward to being handcuffed, as much as I was looking forward to doing it – I kept up the ruse by using my free hand to slowly pat her down and asked, “Do you have anything sharp that might hurt me?”
“Nooo…” she moaned and jutted her ass back to rub along my dick, while singing out, “But you do.”
And it was already hurting.
Had been since I’d first laid eyes on her the night before.
I chuckled, unable to keep up the joke and my dick at the same time. But I wondered if she would be lucid enough to get my verbal clue when I leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Well, that all depends. Are you feeling lucky, lover?”
Technically, she was.
Her ass was still pressed against him.
A shiver worked its way down her spine and into the tip of my dick, while the rest of her body stilled as she whispered, “Harry?”
“Sookie?” I whispered in return.
“Oh my god,” she groaned, dropping her head to the roof of the car and making me want to give her another reason to say those very same words.
We wouldn’t even need to switch positions.
Just lower two zippers.
Neither one of us seemed to notice or care that I still had her spread against the car, like I’d hopefully have her spread against my shower tiles at some point in the near future. And it would seem she was thinking somewhere along the same blurred lines of impropriety, when she whispered, “Uh…about last night…I’m not…I don’t…I mean, I uh…”
“You were three sheets to the wind?” I chuckled, finishing her sentence, while still standing inappropriately close to her.
But it wasn’t my fault.
It was hers and her perfectly heart shaped ass’s fault.
And proving it wasn’t only her ass that made her perfect, she giggled out, “What can I say? I get a lot of free drinks. I have a vagina and it’s accepted everywhere, like Visa.”
I laughed out loud and finally took a step back, letting go of her hands in time for one of them to slap over her mouth, like she couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud, and then her muffled words filtered through it, saying, “Sorry. My head is all swimmy and my filter’s on the fritz.”
“That’s because you’re high,” I said, picking up the open box of brownies she’d left on the bench and taking a sniff.
But apparently I wasn’t enough of a dog – drug dog, at least – to be able to pick up the scent of the marijuana I knew they contained.
They smelled like regular brownies.
And if their Aunt Linda was still around when I retired from the force, I knew what I would be asking for in lieu of a cake.
But since piss testing was still a fact of life for me, I started to close the box when something at the bottom of it caught my eye. Pulling the small Post-It note from the container, I read it just as Sookie huffed out, “Fucking Aunt Linda! She could have warned me!”
“She did,” I grinned and showed her the note.
Do not eat these under ANY circumstances until Friday AFTER work!
– Love, Aunt Lin
Her glassy eyes traveled over the paper a few times before she huffed again and crossed her arms, pushing up her other set of eyes, as she said, “She could have put her warning on top of the box!”
“Where would the fun be in that?”
A little bit of paranoia showed on her face, mixing in with what little anger the marijuana would allow her to feel, as she said, “I can’t go back to work if I’m high!”
“Then it’s a good thing I have the rest of the day off,” I smiled.
Technically it was my day off, but I had to go in for court that morning. Otherwise Sookie would have woken up in my bed with me.
And I was perfectly willing to bring her back to my place for a Groundhog’s Day redo.
And my smile only grew – along with my confusion – when she grinned and announced it was another holiday instead, as she said, “Then it’s a good thing it’s D-Day!”
It wasn’t February 2nd or June 6th, but I didn’t see the need to tell her that.
Because if all went well – once she proved she was sober enough to consent – I could be storming her beaches by nightfall and then doing it all over again come daybreak.