Wheelsy, South Carolina

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Christ, is he tired.

It's late, and Kate is probably asleep by now, so Bill closes the door on his cruiser as soft as he can before dragging himself up the driveway and porch steps.

Lousy day, lousy week, hell, if he could he'd write off the whole damn month.

He didn't even bother to button his flannel when he changed after work at the station, and a light wind whips the tails of his shirt as he sorts through his keys.

Getting the door open, he steps inside with three things on his mind; a beer, a bite to eat, and bed.

Comments

[justdidntseeit]

The house is quiet.

One lamp is still on in the empty living room; in the kitchen, low-burning light emanates from the bulb above the stove.

Dinner is waiting for Bill on the counter, draped with a clean, plaid cloth -- grilled chicken and vegetables, and a mild pasta salad tossed with olive oil, feta, and fresh tomatoes and basil.

A blue Post-It note rests on top of the cloth, with Kate's familiar script in black ink: Five dollars says you skipped dinner tonight. Enjoy!

In the fridge, a cold bottle of beer sits front and center on one shelf, with another Post-It attached: Relax, but don't keep me waiting too long, sheriff.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill walks into the kitchen and spots the plate as he's dumping out what's left of the coffee sludge in his thermos.

The note gets a huff of a laugh from him that's both bemused and annoyed.

Taking the plate with him, he opens the fridge and blinks at the bottle and second note sitting there.

This time his chuckle and resulting smirk are pleased.

He glances in the direction of the bedroom, curious and a touch confused, then sits down and has his supper; polishing it and the beer off quick.

Leaving his plate in the sink, and dropping his empty into the bin, Bill heads down the hallway.

Another note greets him on the bedroom door, and he stands brushing invisible crumbs off the front of his white t-shirt while he reads it.

Knock first.

Tugging the Post-It off the door, he gives a gentle rap.

"Kate?"

[justdidntseeit]

A few moments later, the door slowly opens.

Kate stands in the threshold, wearing a pair of red stilettos and half a deputy's uniform.

The khaki shirt is far too big, hanging mid-thigh; both sleeves are rolled up almost to her elbows. With only two buttons actually fastened in place, the well-worn fabric mostly conceals the ivory lace beneath -- until Kate places one palm flat against the door frame, affording Bill a better view.

"Evening, Sheriff Pardy."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill looks up from the note stuck to his fingertips, and his mouth falls open.

His eyes take her in in a slow up and down, and a smile quirks one corner of his mouth.

"Hi, there."

[justdidntseeit]

Her free hand fists in his T-shirt, and she tugs him closer.

Mouth curving into a devious smirk, she arches an eyebrow.

"That's all you have to say for yourself?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Stunned in place, he staggers a step when she pulls him forward.

"I-- " He's at a loss for words, and he doesn't find any when his eyes dart down to get another look down her shirt front.

Licking his lips, he drags his eyes back up to hers.

"Wh-- what seems t'be the problem-- officer." His voice cracks, and the heat in his features burns a little hotter.

[justdidntseeit]

Affecting him like this is all the encouragement she needs to ignore her hammering heart and watery knees. Seeing his cheeks darken, she swallows a low, throaty chuckle.

"Insubordination, for one," she says, narrowing her eyes. "General suspicion, for another."

She takes a step backward, and gives his shirt a sharp yank.

"I'll need to ask you a few questions."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

He's like a puppet on a string, jerking forward when she tugs.

He's not quite sure what's gotten into her, and he's nervous as hell about playing along, but he tries. Just as he tries to catch a glimpse of what's there beneath the hem of the shirt she has on.

"But I-- uh, I'm innocent, ma'am." Tilting his head, he reaches for the edge of the shirt. "Or I was framed... "

[justdidntseeit]

Three more steps back, and she halts a few feet from the bed. The room is lit by a half-dozen votives on the dresser, their flickering flames reflected in the mirror.

"Framed? Really?"

She rests her hands on her hips, the button-down creeping higher while she makes no move to stop him.

"Do you know how many times I've heard that one?" she says, her voice growing softer with proximity.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

He brushes the fabric aside, fingers grazing her thigh as he does so, and his eyes take in the glow of her skin from the candle light.

"Oh, but it's true. I'd never do... whatever it is they're sayin' I did."

[justdidntseeit]

She can't quite suppress a shiver; her breath betrays her, catching in her throat.

"So you're telling me I don't need to frisk you?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

His eyes dart up to her face when he hears that shudder, and it's his turn to give a wicked smirk.

"Well, if y'feel the need... "

He slides his palm along her thigh, and gives her leg a squeeze.

"Never know what I might be carryin'."

[justdidntseeit]

She murmurs in assent, and makes quick work of his flannel shirt; the garment drops near her feet, already forgotten.

Her hands slide beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt, meeting solid muscle and heated skin.

"A strip-search might be easier."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

He lets her go so she can get his shirt off, and rests both hands on her hips when it's gone.

The smirk wavers when her hands map over his skin as heat and a tremor follows the path of her palms, and he works his throat quietly.

"Well, whatever y'think, officer."

[justdidntseeit]

"I think you're enjoying yourself a little too much," she says, her voice low and playful. Her hands slip lower, skating along his waistband, until she hooks one index finger into his belt loop.

"So c'mere, and sit down."

With a light tug, she leads the way to the bed.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

His skin prickles, and his abs jump under her hands.

"I might be a bit," he admits as he walks with her and takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Never seen a uniform look so good."

[justdidntseeit]

She steps in close, standing between his knees. Resting one hand on his shoulder, the other strokes his hair.

"Flattery's a serious offense, sheriff."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Even when it's true?" he asks, reaching a hand out to play with the hem of her shirt.

[justdidntseeit]

"Absolutely. You're attempting to compromise my badge."

She tilts into the attention; goosebumps rise on her thigh when Bill exposes a sensitive patch of fire-hot skin.

"And me," she adds, as his fingers graze the delicate lace hidden beneath her hem.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"I'm doin' neither," he denies.

Tracing the edge of her underwear with his fingertips, he lifts his other hand to part the open top of the shirt.

Smirking when he gets a look at her bra, he shrugs a shoulder.

"Well, maybe the one."

[justdidntseeit]

"At least," she says, flushing hotter under the attention.

"Which is why," and she gives his shoulders a shove, pushing him onto his back, "I'm afraid you're in a lot of trouble."

She joins him, knees hugging his hips as she hovers above him.

"Maybe in over your head."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

He flops onto his back, hand falling away from her chest, and resting on her thigh.

His smile grows, and damn if she isn't sexy as hell above him like this. The uniform, her bra, the skin all of it's letting him see, it has his blood running hot and swift through his veins.

All the weariness he walked in the front door with is gone now. Smoothing his palms along the skin of her legs, he meets her gaze.

"Don't I have any rights?"

[justdidntseeit]

Her eyes glitter with wicked amusement in the candlelight.

She dips her head, lips brushing his earlobe.

"No."

To illustrate her point, she eases his hands away from her legs, and holds his wrists in place above his head. Her mouth moves to his jaw, and she hides a smile against the rasp of his five o'clock shadow.

"Not tonight."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

He gives her his hands, and his heart skips a beat when he has them raised above his head and looks at her.

He shifts to adjust just a bit, flexing his wrists, and tilting his chin as her mouth meets his skin.

"Too bad for me," he says, eyes dipping shut.

[justdidntseeit]

Kissing the underside of his jaw, she pushes out a breath of a laugh. She knows he could break her grip with an easy jerk of his arms, but the fact that he's so willing to play along sends a deliciously base thrill through her.

Her fingers thread through his, brushing the sheets; she gives his hands a gentle squeeze as she drags her lips to his.