Sarah's Private Dick Page 4

  There was a picture of her on the desk, all big eyes and those pouty lips… he’d had to plant it face down because it had been too distracting.

  Definitely time to get out of her and stop thinking about the Widow. Dumbass. He quickly and efficiently packed up the books that he wanted to take with him into a box and grabbed his leather carry case. Hefting the box under one arm he went out into the hallway, heading towards the front door.

  “Mrs. Brown?” he asked loudly as he descended the stairs to the entrance.

  Almost as though she’d been waiting for him she came trotting around the corner, a sweet smile on her face.

  “I thought I told you to call me Sarah,” she reminded him. The closer she got to him the more she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes and the harder it was not to drop the box, pick her up and set her against the wall so that he could get his hands all over her luscious little body. He gripped the box tighter.

  “Sarah,” he said, smiling down at her.

  Oomph. This man packed a serious sexual punch. Just seeing that flash of white teeth in his dark face and hearing his deep voice saying her name made her insides tighten. The easy way he carried the box of files said that he was every bit as big and strong and he looked. “I’m going to take some of the accounting files if that’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course, whatever you need,” she said, almost mindlessly. The remembered joke about private dicking flashed through her mind and she immediately heated with a blush, feeling her nipples harden under her shirt. Dear god… please don’t notice. Fortunately his eyes remained firmly on her face. Of course, that might not be much better considering how red she was at the moment.

  Derrick was fascinated with the rosy color suffusing Sarah’s cheeks. What thought had triggered that? Was she feeling just as off balance as he was?

  Even if she was it was time to go.

  “I’ll give you a call as soon as I have something,” he said.

  “Thank you so much,” Sarah replied, smiling up at him. The trust in her eyes was enough to make his heart give an extra thud in his chest. Didn’t even know him and yet she looked like she believed he could solve all of her problems. Strangest thing was that he found himself hoping he could.

  Sarah breathed a sigh of relief after closing the door, slumping against it. Her body was still… hot. Maybe it was time for a shower.

  Trotting upstairs, she tried not to think too much about Derrick’s strong arms. Huge body. Sarah wasn’t a tall woman, but Martin had only been 5’9”. At one point in her life she’d thought that was very tall, now she knew better. Derrick had loomed over her, making her feel absolutely tiny. Delicate, even with her rounded body. What would it be like to be under someone that massive… he’d pin her down to the bed just with his weight…

  This wasn’t helping her cool her arousal at all. Stripping down quickly, Sarah looked at herself in the mirror. Well that helped. Short. Dumpy. Big melon breasts. Soft stomach, no muscle at all. Wide hips. Round cheeks and boring hazel eyes. The only thing she really liked about herself was her hair, with its dark reddish color that would flame up with brighter reds and gold in the sunlight.

  Of course as soon as she got in the shower and couldn’t see all of herself, she started looking at her various body parts and imagining what Derrick’s dark hands would look like against her ivory skin. Heat, that had nothing to do with the hot temperature of the shower, quivered inside of her.

  Crap, she wasn’t going to be able to get anything done. Sarah looked at her showerhead. It was removable. Once, when she was in a women’s locker room, she’d overheard some of the women giggling about how showerheads could be used for masturbation. It might be worth an experiment, just to see if she could even masturbate. And maybe if she did it would get these erotic imagines out of her mind and she could go back to being plain old Sarah Brown.

  Licking her lips with nervousness, feeling as though she was doing something utterly naughty and the morality police were going to come breaking into her bathroom, Sarah reached up and pulled the shower head out of its holster. Okay. That was the first step. Turning it towards her, she directed the spray at her chest. It felt nice, the hot water pounding against her breasts, especially when she targeted jets against her nipples. The little buds ached and throbbed. How pretty would they look against obsidian skin, dark as night to set off the cream and rose of her own body? The imagined visual was enough to make her feel sexy.

  Water trickled down her stomach and over her the pubic hair on her mound, clinging to the hairs, teasing and tantalizing her swollen tissues. And she did feel swollen. Had she ever felt this turned on before in her life? Maybe... a long, long time ago. There were no occurrences springing to her mind at the moment. With a small moan, she lifted one of her hands to her breasts, pinching the nipple. It hurt a little, but it felt good too... no one had every pinched her nipple before, but it felt right. The throbbing of her nipple went straight to her clit, the two buds beating in tandem.

  Moving the jets of water down her stomach, Sarah sucked in air as she spread her legs and the spray hit her tender pussy. Closing her eyes she imagined that it was Derrick's dark hand on her breast, that the water was his fingers, teasing her outer folds. Leaning back against the wall, Sarah could feel her legs trembling as pleasure coursed through her. Wet... hot... what if it wasn't his fingers, but his mouth?

  She gasped as she imagined Derrick's hands on her creamy thighs, his arms were like unyielding bars of obsidian, pushing her legs apart, opening her for him. Leaning her head back against the cold tile of the shower, the heat in her pussy seemed even greater as she brought the shower head closer to her body, intensifying the power of the jets against her. Rocking her hips she moaned, imagining that the wet warmth was Derrick's tongue, sliding out between his dark lips as his gleaming white teeth flashed in a sensual smile, his dark, bald head bobbing between her creamy thighs...

  The jets of water rattled against her clit, which was rabidly swelling, and Sarah cried out with pleasure, her body shuddering and struggling to stay standing as her orgasm rushed through her, her mind filled with erotic imagery of the man who had just been in her house. Ecstasy coursed through her and throbbed, before gently rushing away, leaving her empty and naked in the shower. It was fulfilling physically, but not so much emotionally.

  Feeling drained, Sarah put the shower head back where it had started and picked up her cherry blossom scented shampoo. Her loins felt sated, but for the first time, she really felt kind of lonely. It had been nice having company in the house, knowing that she wasn't all alone. Although she'd really enjoyed having him here much more than she should have, considering that they hadn't interacted at all. And how incredible was it that she had a better orgasm fantasizing about Derrick than she'd ever had during sex.

  Sarah made a face. Maybe she should have been masturbating more often. Even though it made her feel lonely afterwards, perhaps her problem with sex had been that she was just able to get herself off better than any man would ever be able to. That kind of made sense, considering how complex women’s bodies were to men’s. Or at least, so it seemed. It had always been a surprise when she had an orgasm with Martin, it certainly didn't seem to be something he strove for. Then again, she'd never complained either.

  At least she’d been a good wife to him. Thank goodness she hadn’t met Derrick before this, she would have felt awful having such an attraction to another man while Martin was still alive. With him gone it seemed a little disrespectful to his memory, but at least it wasn’t blatantly wrong.

  Getting out of the shower Sarah sighed. The hardest part about her life now was all the changes. Before, things had been so secure. She hadn’t had to think too much. Or, really live too much when it came right down to it. In fact, she’d lived vicariously through Martin and Patricia in a lot of ways - career wise she’d lived through Martin as he’d built up the restaurant and made it successful, and love / adventure wise she’d lived through Patricia. Hearing about the
restaurant, making her own small contributions of suggestions, had kept her satisfied and she’d been able to burrow into her room, making pretty pieces of jewelry because she’d already felt like she was being useful. Patricia and Lloyd’s courtship had warmed her heart, much more than anything Martin ever did for her (partially because he rarely did anything for her) and now when the couple would travel she would pore over their pictures, listen avidly to their stories, and pretend that she was satisfied with that. But truthfully… she’d always wished that she and Martin could go with them. But he hadn’t wanted to leave the restaurant.

  As awful as it sounded, Sarah realized that she was free. If she wanted to go on Patricia and Lloyd’s next trip she could. The restaurant wouldn’t need taking care of, and Martin wouldn’t need her here at home to take care of cooking, the housework and the garden. That had always been his reason for keeping her at home, otherwise she and Patricia could have gone on some girl trips, but she couldn’t just leave him to his own devices when he needed her at home… the long hours of working at the restaurant had exhausted him. And, despite the fact that he owned a restaurant, he had been a pretty wretched cook. Letting him live for a week off of Easy Mac wouldn’t have helped his heart any.

  But now that responsibility was gone. Sarah felt a weight lift off of her heart. And she refused to feel guilty about it. Of course she wished Martin was still alive, but it wasn’t wrong of her to find something that was good in her life now, finding new ways to be happy. It was a little scary too, she’d always felt comforted in knowing exactly how her life was going to be. Now she had no idea at all.

  *****

  Derrick woke up at 5am with an aching erection, floundering his way out of an embarrassingly erotic dream involving his employer. He’d been running his hands over her face, her pale pink lips, through that gorgeous, silky hair, and marveling at the contrast between her small, delicately pale features and his rough, large black as night hands. It only took a few pumps of his dick before he was spurting white cream all over his belly.

  Unfortunately he was the kind of person that couldn’t get back to sleep once he was awake. Groaning, he got up and took a shower, washing his seed off of his belly and chest, and got to his morning workout early, planning out his day.

  He’d try to see if he could get any more information on Vincent. And he needed to call Nick and see if he could come drop off the files. There was just something that didn’t add up (pun intended) about those accounting books.

  The thing was, he wasn’t sure that the discrepancy had anything to do with Vincent.

  Chapter 3

  The more Derrick found out about Vincent Holme, the less he liked the guy. There had been a few sexual harassment complaints about him in college, but none since he and Martin opened up the restaurant. At least, none that were recorded anywhere. Had Martin been protecting his friend? Or had Vincent cleaned up his acting. Growling under his breath as he pumped iron, Derrick had a feeling it was the former. After all, why would the guy clean up his act when he hadn’t been given a reason to?

  He spent a lot of time drinking, rather than attending to the restaurant. A lot of time with hookers too, usually ones off of the street. The cheaper ones, the more desperate ones who were willing to do more for less. The ones who probably didn’t have much choice in their lives.

  When he wasn’t drinking or fucking, he was either at the restaurant or at home. Derrick had no idea what Vincent got up to at home, but today he was going to find out. He already had Vincent’s schedule down pretty pat. Monday through Friday Vincent would visit the restaurant in the afternoon and then head out before the dinner shift, when having top management around might actually be useful. On Saturdays he would be there during the evening, but spend most of his time in the bar hitting on the clientele. Sometimes successfully. He wasn’t entirely without charm or looks after all, although the more drunk the woman the better his chances. Sundays he never came into the restaurant.

  The weekend had passed uneventfully enough, although the dreams about The Widow hadn’t stopped. Rather than calling her, Derrick had emailed her to tell her that he’d handed the files over to an accountant that he trusted and that he was still working on his investigation. It was better than hearing her soft voice over the phone and fantasizing about her sweetly perfect lips as she talked. Seeing her return email in his inbox had been inappropriately exciting. Like being a teenager again and having the girl he liked in class pass him a note.

  Telling himself that it was just her unavailability that he craved, because it wasn't too often that he came across a woman that he just couldn't have, Derrick forced himself to concentrate on the investigation. Planning out snooping around Vincent's house. Possibly he'd need to go by the restaurant and snoop around the office there, but he'd want to let Sarah - Mrs. Brown - The Widow know before he did that, and right now that just didn't seem like a great idea.

  When his phone went off it was a relief from his thoughts. And the sinking feeling he got in his stomach when it was Nick instead of the Widow was probably just indigestion.

  "Hey man, what's up?"

  "I've got good news and bad news."

  "What's the good news?"

  "Someone has definitely been skimming money from the restaurant."

  "That's the good news?" Well, in a way it kind of was. At least Derrick knew that his instincts hadn't gone flying out the window just for a pretty face and a killer body... and god, that hair... "Yeah okay, so what's the bad news?"

  "I'm pretty sure it was the husband doing the skimming."

  Well crap.

  "How sure?"

  "As sure as I can be just from looking at the books, but there's nothing in here to show where the money went, so I can't be completely sure."

  "Alright, I'll try to get you some more information. Thanks for looking at all of this."

  "No problem. You busy on Friday? Janie wants you to come over for dinner."

  That was Nick's code for 'my wife Janie has another friend of hers that she wants you to meet.' While Derrick loved hanging out with Nick and Janie, it was always a toss-up whether or not he wanted to meet yet another 'friend' of Janie's. Blind dates weren't really his thing. On the other hand, he could definitely use a distraction from The Widow...

  "Yeah sure."

  "Really?"

  The surprise in Nick's voice was because Derrick hadn't accepted one of these invitations in awhile.

  "He's coming," Derrick heard Nick say, not to him, and then Janie's voice cheering in the background. He had to grin. Nick had been his best friend for ages, and Janie was like the annoying older sister that he'd never had. Well, sort of an older sister. Or an interfering mother. Both. Ever since the two of them had been married she'd started searching for the perfect woman for Derrick. She had good intentions, so he couldn't take offense, but sometimes he did get tired of the endless stream of women she introduced him to.

  Nick gave Derrick the details for the dinner and then they hung up the phone, leaving Derrick feeling unreasonably tense. He drummed his fingers on his desk, feeling annoyed with the cheap plastic. Just the few hours sitting behind Martin Brown's heavy wooden desk had spoiled him; it had been pure pleasure to sit at such a well made desk, big enough for anything a man could store in it and perfectly suited for someone with a large frame like himself. Idly he wondered if the couple had ever engaged in extracurriculars on that desk. It was the perfect height to bend a woman over, or lay her down and... when the woman in his head began to distinctly resemble the Widow he made himself stop with the fantasies.

  Time to work out, take a cold shower and then give the Widow a call. He needed to go through the restaurant office. And possibly Martin's again. He wouldn't tell her anything yet though, because they didn't have proof. Even though it wasn't his job to protect her, he didn't want to upset her with ungrounded theories.

  ******

  Sarah showed up at the restaurant Thursday morning feeling rather nervous. When Derrick had calle
d and told her that there was something off about the accounting books and that he'd need to get into the restaurant's management office, she realized that she was more nervous about seeing him than about what might be wrong with the books. In fact, this morning it had taken her nearly an hour to get ready. She'd tried on and discarded a small mountain of outfits, before deciding on casual jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, forcing herself not to overdress or wear anything that was remotely sexy.

  When she got there the restaurant was already bustling, as it was ten o'clock and would be open for lunch in an hour. Cara was in the kitchen, giving orders like a general going into battle, a flurry of activity following in her wake. The opening servers had arrived and were making coffee, iced tea and folding napkins, making sure the tables were all set appropriately and setting everything up to ensure a good shift. Sarah walked through the dining room with pleasure, happy to see how orderly everything was.

  "Hey Sarah!"

  She turned to see Gloria hurrying towards her, a big grin on her face. The enthusiastic young woman gave Sarah a big hug.

  "Hey yourself," she said, grinning. "How's everything going here?"

  "Oh pretty good," said Gloria. A small expression flitted over her face and then was gone, subsumed by a smile, before Sarah could figure out what it was. "Are you here for lunch?"

  "No, I've just got to pick up a few things in the office." Well that was close enough to the truth, although she didn't know what she was going to be picking up yet.

  Suddenly Gloria's eyes got huge as she looked at something over Sarah's shoulder.

  "Oh my goodness... who is tall, dark and studly, what is he doing here and please tell me he's single."