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In life, you got two types of women. You got the women who thought they were hot, pretending like they knew how to use their bodies to get a man's attention, but they didn't. Sure, they would probably end up getting a man's attention-or his responsiveness-now and then, but only because seeing how pathetic they were guaranteed a quick and easy lay. Not a good lay, just an easy one. You know, like a good jerk-off in the shower. It didn't satisfy you completely, but it was sufficient to get you through the day.
And then you got the kind of women who didn't need to use their bodies to get a man's attention at all. They didn't walk around thinking, "If I sway my ass a little to this side, and then a little to that side, I'll get the men drooling." No. They walked the way they walked, and they talked the way they talked. And without even trying, sexual energy seeped through every pore, sensuality emanating from their every move, and they wore eroticism like a second skin.
Guess what kind of woman Vanessa Bologna was. Yup, she was the kind who managed to get my balls aching and my cock twitching in a matter of minutes. And while I was staring at that gorgeous, curvy ass hugged tight in her black pencil skirt as she walked out of the station, all I could think about was seeing those cheeks jiggle while I pounded into her from behind. And those legs, those calves - good God, I wanted them wrapped around my neck, squeezing the fucking air out of me while I feasted on the sweetness tucked away between her legs.
The second she was out the door, I pulled my hand through my hair, trying to get my raging hard-on under control. The way her lips moved when she talked, the way confidence leaked from her every word, it was like everything she just did during the last twenty-five minutes had a direct line to my dick. That had never happened to me before - sober. I knew this interrogation was going to be a fucking disaster the moment I had set my eyes on her. Women happened to have this kind of effect on me when I had more tequila and rum in my system than white blood cells and platelets. And it was usually those pathetic women, you know, the quick and easy lays.
"Gunner!"
Ah, crap. Like one run-in with the devil wasn't enough.
I sighed before turning and watching as the commander came storming my way. Judging by the way his nostrils flared and the smoke poured out of his ears, I'd say he was pretty pissed.
"Commander Puti."
He stopped in front of me. "How do you always manage to piss me off?"
"I don't know. Talent?"
He stared at me with so much disdain that for a second I felt twelve again, standing in Principal Judy's office, listening to him telling me how wrong it was to trash the school hall, half of the classrooms, and the principal's office with toilet paper.
According to me, I simply showed my extreme commitment to a classic prank. Unfortunately, Principal Judy didn't agree and kept repeating the phrase "you're suspended" while he tried to remove the toilet paper from his fish tank, along with the dead fish. How was I supposed to know the little fishy fuckers would eat the toilet paper? And, in my opinion, if you were stupid enough to eat shit paper, you deserved to die.
"Detective Gunner, was that Vanessa Bologna I just saw walk out of the interrogation room?"
Shit.
"No. That was, ah...that was Megan Jolie." I thought on the fly, combining two of the world's sexiest women, Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie. And what exactly made them the hottest pieces of ass to ever walk among us, lower-class humans? The lips. It was those full, beautiful, heart-shaped lips made for their awe-inspiring suction capabilities.
"I brought her in for a Bible full of unpaid parking tickets." I continued the lie. By the way, the commander went from a normal beige colour to a ruby red, I'd say the lie was plastered all over my now very worried face.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Larry smirk like an idiot as he witnessed the uncomfortable conversation between me and the commander. I made a mental note to punch him in the balls the next time I saw him down at Joey's Pub.
Commander Puti took a step closer, narrowing his eyes. "You're suspended."
I swear to fucking God, the way those words rolled out of his mouth, I was pretty sure he just came in his pants.
"Commander, that was not Vanessa Bol-"
"Larry," the commander called, and Larry instantly straightened.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Who was that woman who just walked out those doors?"
"That was Vanessa Bologna, sir."
Oh, my God. I was going to kill this motherfucker.
"Seriously, Larry?" I turned to him. "Can you breathe up there?"
He looked confused. "Up where?"
"Up his fucking ass." I pointed at the commander, and then his face turned all shades of red.
"Get out!" the commander yelled. "Give me your fucking gun and badge and get the fuck out of my department."
I was appalled. Really. "Suspended? Just because I asked Vanessa Bologna to come in for five fucking minutes?"
"Twenty-five," Larry chimed in.
"Larry, I swear to God, I will tear your dick off and shove it up your ass if you don't shut the fuck up."
The commander smiled wickedly. "Threatening a fellow police officer. Well done. You just signed your fucking suspension letter." And then the asshole turned and started to leave.
"Am I the only one convinced the Bologna are responsible for the shit hole this place turned into?"
The commander turned back around. "Unfortunately, you have no proof to back that up, Gunner. Make sure you book in your gun and leave your badge in my office. You have ten minutes to get your ass out of my precinct. You're suspended for a month."