Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (11 page)

She grabbed a coffee at Starbucks and glanced at the Sky News screen as she waited to board. Nothing mattered that this world could throw up - nothing. A face on the screen, half familiar, a line of text running below... Sports Journalist Peter Making found dead, police seeking information...

Anna sighed resignedly. Her number would be on his phone with time of the call. She had decided to say nothing and now she was half in a frame. She should have told Judy but it was too late now. If Making had followed her to her flat then perhaps the killer had been on the same trail.

Even so she was alive... .and she wanted to live. For now she was a girl who sold boats.

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Twenty minutes after Air France 2271 had screeched from the dark night sky into Paris Charles De Gaulle she half ran through the doors into the arrivals hall. And there he was - tall, broad, tight muscled strong and handsome! His dark cropped hair adding to his air of toughness belied by his soft brown eyes. He wore a battered leather flight jacket, white T shirt, faded jeans and burnished brown leather chisel toed shoes. He looked delicious, ruthless, compassionate, sexy and hers!

Despite all her instructions to herself to stay dignified and cool, on impulse she found herself running towards him, towing her heavy wheeled case. He caught her and swept her up in his arms. Again she felt his overwhelming strength as he held her cradled her like a baby. The hard warm living steel of his body thrilled her, just as the tender gentleness of his searching kiss drained her of all resistance. He was holding her and she was his! There was nothing else in the world.

“Merci - for having come for me.” She gasped.

“Nothing could have stopped me Cherie.” He said in his deep voice.

He took her bag as they walked to his car, his arm around her shoulder and his large hand spread down enough onto her chest to slightly raise her breast and increase her awareness of her nipple. Already she was longing for his touch, physically responding to him. She slipped into the car - a silver Mercedes CLS 500. As he leaned across and kissed her cheek she ran her fingers back through his hair and breathed in his cologne and potent male scent. She folded her fingers around his neck, feeling his bull strength. He raised his hand to her cheek and through her hair. The thrill of his touch sent jolts of excitement sparking through her flesh, tingling in her breasts and the apex of her thighs. She pulled him towards her, wanting him inside, knowing that she would come if he just touched her. He was total male and she was woman.

“This is so wonderful and so crazy.” She whispered

“Anna - the other night - things just happened. It was so overwhelming. It was as if everything had led me to you.” He replied, bathing her soul in the warm sweeping torrent of his dark eyes.

“This is supposed to be a business trip.” She laughed.

“And so it is. It entirely our own business - and I do want a boat.” He beamed.

“Of course.” She sighed, settling back into the soft leather as he nudged the powerful Mercedes out of the airport and into the tumble and jumble of le Boulevard Peripherique.

It had been quite a day and now she could relax. She enjoyed the silent surging push of the Mercedes but was slightly surprised by his choice of such a businessman’s car.

“I thought maybe you would have a Ferrari.” She commented.

“When I won the world title I bought one - and every punk wanted to race the champ. One day I dreamed I would meet the most beautiful raven haired woman and I would want to hear what she said.”

Anna smiled. So he was a smooth operator. Tomorrow could be police work but tonight she was in Paris with the man who had brought her back to life and who had opened her heart.

“You’re not just a pretty face are you Freddie.”

“The pretty face is your job in this team.”

They began to slide into the centre of Paris. She recognized le Quai de la Rapée and le Pont d'Austerlitz as the road slipped past. The River Seine and its bridges were rendered magical by lights. She watched his strong hands on the wheel, longing for the moment when they could touch properly. He eased into a private underground garage.

“Voila - Boulevard St. Michel.” He said with a gentle smile.

They took the lift to his fifth floor penthouse. As the heavy paneled door opened she saw into a huge lounge, one wall of which was filled with leather bound books. An enormous French window opened out onto a balcony looking out over the rooftops of Paris to the Seine. Freddie faded up the mellow wall lights allowing her to see the sumptuous blue carpet and what looked like an original Renoir hanging over an ornate Louis XV fireplace. Antique chairs, clocks and ornaments were tastefully displayed around the room. A large gilt framed mirror reflected a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“It’s so, so lovely.” She sighed as he closed the door behind her with a heavy quality laden click.

She turned to him as he came to her, feeling his strong arms possess and caress her. Her knees physically buckled. She kissed him deeply, her tongue searching shamelessly for his. As he responded she could feel him hardening against her belly. She curled her leg behind his and pressed her longing secret lips against his tight rippled thigh.

He eased his head back and looked at her.

“You are so beautiful Anna - I can’t believe this cruel world has allowed me to find you.”

She lay her head on the contoured bulge of his pecs as he stroked her hair.

“Champagne?” he asked “this is Paris and it is from my own vineyard... you can’t say no.”

“I’d love it - but can I get out of these old London and airplane clothes?”

He let her go and she dived into the en suite power shower. She was pleased to see that all the materials were absolutely male. The water revived and enlivened her as it cascaded onto her aroused breasts. She reached down, only too aware of the pleasure of her own touch. She stepped out, spotting a white silk dressing gown on the heated towel rail. She put it on, immediately jolted by his scent and presence. Across the back spread the logo “Lonsdale” and the words “Le Professeur - Champion du Monde”. She pulled it around her, thrilling to its aromatic attraction. She pulled up the hood and breathed in his pure clean yet animal scent. Wrapping it around her she walked back into the lounge, making her own show of jabbing and punching like a boxer getting in to the ring.

Freddie was standing at the window. He saw her reflection and turned to her with a broad adoring smile.

“Wow - you look fantastic.” He said, smiling and handing her a crystal fluted glass of champagne from the table.

“I love this gown - it smells of you.”

“Yeah - sweat blood and tears my love... I wore it at my last fight - you keep it, I could never make it look so good.”

“Then you’ve lost it baby,” she squealed .“I’ll never give it back.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to keep you on,” he said with a soft smile “Here’s to everything that lies ahead”.

They touched glasses and drank.

“God! That’s good!” She said.

“Vintage Chateau La Salle - just for the boss and his lady.” He smiled.

The delicious anticipation of his touch sent seismic thrilling waves through her body. She stood at his side at the window, fighting to maintain a veneer of sophistication. She finished her drink and he stepped back to the bottle and poured them both another. She drank quickly - too quickly - she knew, feeling a glow as her inhibitions burned away like mist in the morning sun. He had come to stand behind her. She felt him rock hard and urgent against her lower back. A jolt of pleasure rocked her as his lips and the teasing lick of his tongue found her neck and his teeth nibbled at her skin. One hand cupped her breast and gently brushed her nipple. She groaned and leaned back against him as his other hand ran down across her belly into the furrow of her moist core. Slowly he began to massage her inner lips against her firm little button, circling lightly yet more and more urgently. Still he licked her neck in the same rhythm as his other hand matched the pulse of her passion as he gently stroked her nipple. The three pulses of lust began to overwhelm her and at first she tried to hold back as she felt her orgasm building and piling like thunder clouds against a pure blue sky on a summer’s day.

“Freddie - what are you doing to me - I can’t hold back.”

“Let go my angel,” he whispered huskily, “be a woman for me - be my woman ma belle.”

Spasms of joy rushed through her as she let go, sensing his need for her to abandon herself totally to him. Beyond her the Parisian night blended into her consciousness and her surrender to pleasure. He held her as she tilted up her lips to his and kissed him in shudders of ecstasy.

“My sweet baby, my sweet soft baby.” He murmured as she grunted out his name in a blur of love and animal passion.

As she subsided for a moment she turned to face him, kissing him deeply. His desire for her was by now all consuming and he felt a desperation for his own release. A trace of her woman scent gripped his senses. He lifted her in his steel arms as if she had no weight, finding her lips with his. She felt herself carried to a huge antique four poster bed. He gasped at her beauty. Her black hair spread carelessly on the cream satin pillow. He feasted his eyes on the supple softness of her body, quickly removing his clothes and lying alongside her, moving his mouth to her breast and his hand to her gorgeous wet soft valley. The feel of her thrilled him as she opened herself to his touch.

She reached out to touch him. He was hard and massive and twitched as her hand slowly drew him back to reveal his longing flesh. He groaned but fought to hold back. He wanted to plunge into her haven of warm giving love - for his love for her to unite with her body. His finger slipped gently into her as he turned to move above her. She still held him as he found her entrance and felt the parting of her delicious flooding lips. At last he slid into her, pushing to the limit of her soft depths.

She sighed as his power, length and thickness filled and possessed her. He nudged at the roof of her being somewhere deep in her spirit. Some beast had been released from captivity as his movements touched switches of pleasure and lust. She gripped his buttocks, thrilling at their relentless steel tension. She began to buck upwards in ecstasy as waves of uncontrolled shudders swept through her. She let out some animal sound as she saw his broad shoulders above her and gasped in the scent of his male body musk.

He felt the pulsating grip of her joy beneath him as he moved slowly inside her soft soaking body. The awareness of his power over her pumped him harder and harder as he began to climb towards the top of an irresistible slope.

She sensed his growing need and the tension excited her beyond control. As he pressed his lips to her neck groaning “mon amour - mon amour” she trembled against him as surges of orgasm seemed to drench her into senselessness.

And now he had reached the summit of his climb. He bit tenderly at her neck tasting her flesh and her sweat. He began to let himself go, feeling the longing sweet agony of need to release. He was gripping her and filling her and she was holding him, pulling him in deeply, pulling in the male of him to her sweet female love flower.

She felt the ecstatic squeezing and pumping of his muscles inside and outside of her as his seed flowed and jetted into her hot molten core, mixing with her own pulsing jolts of their shared climax. He heard her helpless cry as he groaned her name and gave up control to the power of love and the passion of beasts.

She felt his weight as he subsided onto her breasts. Still he was inside her with the last aftershocks of his release still shuddering through him, as if he were a great tree crashed across her as the storm finally passed. Their bodies were damp with sweat and lust. Their scent and fluids mixed into mellowness in the pale thin light of the room. He was the first to speak.

“Anna - my love - there is no other woman like you - I just lose myself in you.”

He lay on his back and she turned on her side placing her leg between his.

“You are my man Freddie. I’m out of control too with all this but I can’t stop.” She said seriously.

“I never want you to stop... but maybe one day you will wake up and see that you don’t know me...”

“I know enough - no one can ever know everything.” She said calmly.

She rested her head on his chest as he stroked her hair. Idly she ran her hand over the ridged iron six pack of his stomach muscles. He was beautiful - more beautiful than anything she could ever have imagined. His olive skin was like silk and smelled of male mixed with summer sun and sex.

With an athletic swivel he lay her over on her side and spooned into her back, whispering butterfly kisses onto her shoulders.

“You are my baby for ever - my angel.” He murmured as they drifted into warm cuddled sleep.

When she awoke it was dawn across the city. The distant foreign sound of an ambulance siren echoing from the Seine reminded her where she was. She ran her foot up and down his muscular calf. A question formed in her mind and escaped before she measured its weight.

“Why are you a boxer - you are a cultured man?”

“It is a noble art.” He murmured.

“You know that’s a cliché.” She fired back quickly.