Life as a New Hire Ch. 11

"Why do you have such faith in them, but not in your own law enforcement?" Nikita pleaded.

"Training, fanaticism, the ability to act with few restrictions, and their willingness to let a member who makes a mistake to live and learn from it instead of being sacrificed for political and popular expediency," I counted off my points.

"They prepare for war, not peacekeeping," I clarified. "By that, I mean that each standard office worker is the equivalent of a soldier in any fully modern armed force. For whatever cause you and your fellow NYPD believe in, there is also a long history of corruption. There is none of that at Havenstone. Infighting - yes. They would never betray the principles of their organization though."

"You work under the scrutiny of the judicial system, a normally hostile press and a special panel whose sole duty is to keep your law enforcers in line. They work for superiors who give them far more latitude," I continued. "A Havenstone breaks an external law, the get assigned elsewhere. Violating their internal code of conduct is harsh and immediate then resolved."

"You screw up, and you are pilloried in the press, abandoned by your superiors and shunned by your peers as if you had a contagion," I sighed. "The NYPD loses you as a resource because of one mistake. Despite the numerous advantaged of living in a Democratic Republic and a capitalist economy, the underlying weaknesses remain."

"People are people, thus flawed. Office-seekers need money and to be scandal-free to get elected which has become a continuous process," I stated. "Those realities allow entities like Havenstone to exist in a parasitic relationship with our society. Face it, why pay $100 million in fines, duties and taxes when you can pay $1 million in campaign contributions."

"You are so damn cynical," Nikita frowned.

"Nikita," I huffed. "No, I'm not cynical. I'm a romantic realist. I know the score. Despite that, I still chose to make my own way in the world. I don't date a woman expecting a 'Happily Ever After'. I also never make a plan to leave a lady. It happens regularly enough and it is my fault most often, yet it has never been my intention to avoid permanence."

"I don't understand you at all!" she yelled. This was expected. This was her prodding me into having some frenzied, 'make me forget about the cruelty of the World' sex.

"Nikita, if I did chose to break the law, I wouldn't be caught because there is some cop out there better than me. If I was caught, it would be that the cops have tons more resources than I possess," I explained.

"I'm not even criminally inclined and I can beat the system. This doesn't mean I plan to break the law. I have no reason to. In the same way, I won't surrender because I don't have to. I'm still alive and have a degree of freedom," I told her. "It is because I know the score that I can fight with hope. I have spent the last four years not living the easy life - the safe life."

"I have the scars to prove it, along with no regrets, because I am me - the man I want to be," I smiled. "So what that I work for killers - they are hot and most of them are willing. The unwilling ones I'll bring around eventually - I always do." Now she wanted to pepper spray, Taser, baton beat and pistol whip me - all at the same time. Sex.

"I keep asking myself why I care about you," Nikita wailed. "I don't even know why I came over today. I should have known you would have at least one woman in your apartment. I could have waited for you to return a single damn phone call...but NO, I had to drive over and have you stomp on my heart instead."

"I don't know how to reply to that," I mused. I did, but drawing it out was important. "My life is a nightmare. It will most likely end in tragedy. If I loved you, I would send you away in a loud, vocal breakup that would convince Havenstone we were done and that would be that. My problem is I like...I selfishly want to know you better and I resonate with you like no other."

When you are the bad guy and she knows you are the bad guy, play the bad guy. See, if I was a good guy, I would sacrifice of myself and send her away. Instead, I was 'selfish' and I was selfish because we 'resonated'. Resonate is a good, romantic word. Its definition is a bit shady, thus she can interpret it the way she desires.

Before you hate me more than you already do, please recall that I really liked Nikita. She was special to me. Unfortunately, 'special' has sort of a nebulous meaning for me. To put that in perspective, my heart is a five year old child in a toy story. It goes 'get that one, get that one' without explaining to me exactly why I end up doing what I do.

"I want you so much," she groused, hating herself for her naked desire.

"Let's go back to my place and make love," I suggested. She jerked slightly.

"What about all those other women?" she questioned.

"Odette is a dear friend, Buffy is my bodyguard and the other two showed up all on their own," I informed her.

"I like Libra and Brooke well enough, but the attraction is purely sexual (it better damn be all it is). I hope we have something more," I said. I could even make honesty my bitch, it seemed.

"Fine. Let's go before I regain my sanity," Nikita declared. It doesn't take a NASA mission control officer to know that really means 'fuck me now - I've soaked my panties'.

Nikita was hopping up and down on the balls of her feet by the time we exited her car and made it around to her/street side. She grabbed my hand and yanked my unresisting form hurriedly back to my apartment. We nearly crashed into Buffy who had been watching from the door. Nikita flashed an embarrassed look.

That didn't stop her from bounding up the stairs three at a time as we raced up to my place. Nikita was slowing down on the final approach only to have Odette open the door and stand aside - Buffy had phoned her. In we swept. Libra and Brooke rose from the sofa, I gave them an apologetic look before Nikita drew me into the bedroom. I slammed the door shut.

"What the Hell!" Libra screamed. What can I say? When I truly set out to fuck a girl, I leave them wanting more. Before you think I'm an egotist, or a Sex God, it is they want to have sex with me, not that they care about what I want. I've been jumped while putting gas in a friend's car by a girl, whose name I couldn't recall at the moment, who I had banged in a bar's men's room.

Midway through that encounter (we were standing up, my back against the car, and her legs spread up and wide as she coasted down from her first orgasm), she confided in me she'd been running around with a condom in her pocket in hopes of finding me - which proved she didn't really know me - I always have a condom.

I even have some stashed in my bathroom & kitchen - just in case. After that, for the rest of my college career the Kwiki Mart attendant kept smirking at me - the gas pumps had video surveillance. My friend and his date were amused too. My date - less so. Maybe I should have stopped at the first orgasm. It turned out okay.

See, unknown to anyone at the start, the girl's (Genevieve it turned out) boyfriend and I had been in a skiing accident and the poor bastard had suffered frostbite dragging me to safety, so I owed Genevieve big time. Yes, my date bought that hastily conjured excuse. All was right with the world and I ended up screwing my date that night and for the next two weeks.

That relationship fell apart when three different servers at a Hooters gave me lap dances (who knew - Hooters girls don't normally give lap dances). I swear to God I had never been there before - the truth didn't work that time either. That wasn't too bad. It reminded me of Genevieve. I went back to the bar and nailed her again. In case it matters, I don't have a fake ID. I lie to the DMV about where I live. It is all official-like, if completely illegal.

Back to my current official; a rapid analysis of the kaleidoscope of emotions. Lust, fear and confusion battled for dominance. I had to take into account her sexual background, parenting, and personal let downs. I had to give her something she didn't want. No, I wasn't going against my tried and true strategy. I had to give Nikita something she didn't want yet really needed.

She began trying to strip off her clothes. Off went her faded denim jacket (despite the heat in NYC in the early summer) then her short-sleeved shirt. Poor Nikita - her nice, gossamer white bra was obviously new - that crisp, pure white doesn't come from Tide, and she had marks from the first bra she'd put on today. Off went the gun...and the cuffs.

I had kicked off my shoes and so quickly pulled down my pants it burned my skin. The policewoman was drinking up my Nikita-inspired arousal so I was able to strip off my shirt too. She began working down her pants and undies in one motion when I jumped her.

"Hey wait," she giggled. She became a tad more annoyed when I wouldn't relent.

With her pants and panties still above her knees, I slipped on a condom, rolled her over and began slapping my cock against her sopping wet cunt.

"I don't want to do it this way," Nikita insisted angrily. "Let me up."

"I can't wait," I grunted as I penetrated her doggy-style. In I went. Nikita's love box was best described at intimately velvet.

"Grrr...Grrr...aaahhh," she finally gave into her arousal. "Ah - ah - aha." That brought me to a halt. I wove my arms around her waist and drew her back to my chest.

"Are you ready to have sex because you want it instead of doing it because you don't know what else to do?" I whispered in her ear. She twisted her head around. Words failed her so we kissed.

"Can I take my pants off now?" sighed happily.

"I don't know. I kinda like you like this," I replied.

"I can barely move," she protested.

"That would be a point in my favor," I snickered. Nikita got back at me by wiggling in my lap. Yeah, that put me in my place alright. Changing our orientation was part of my instinctual reaction to her desire for a close visual connection. The whole face down/ass up was only a trick to erase her confusion.

Keeping my cock deep inside of Nikita, I twisted her around until she was on her back, her bound legs resting on my crooked right elbow. Curse me, Nikita looked up at me consumed by bliss. There is disappointment, settling for what you've got, getting what you want and finally, being giving something you never considered yet now you wonder how you lived so long without.

This wasn't only a 'good dicking'. It was the revelation that my life was a total train wreck and for a crusader like Nikita, I was virtually the Holy Grail. I would never 'not be in trouble' thus constantly in need of saving. To her, I had transformed into the perfect boyfriend. I could never run away, or be saved by anyone else but her. Oh - and I was giving her a terribly good dicking.

"Better?" I murmured. Nikita nodded. My rod kept up steady, moderately powerful penetrations. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?" Trick question.

"No," she purred. "I like...this is wonderful...I thought you would be different." She was one happy camper. She had anticipated a domination play.

"I'd only be rough with you if that's what you wanted," I pressed her legs farther down so that are faces were very close.

"Mmmm...are you ever going to stop seeing those other girls?" she poised. She was no longer angry. Perfect boyfriend plus fantastic intercourse.

I'm always doing stuff that makes women act in bizarre and unexpected (to them) ways. Won't ever do anal? You'll be ambushing me in the tub and working that ass down my pole inside of two weeks. Trust me. Odette hooking up with Buffy? Been down that road before.

"I've only got 70 days left, Nikita," I groaned. "They are going to force me to put out at work."

"I might as well try to make love to the women I care for," I told her. No, they weren't going to make me put out at work unless I made the full 84, or was relocated. Lie baby, lie.

"I'll make sure you live more than those 70 days," Nikita passionately assured me. Now she was applying some pushbacks to meet my thrusts.

"Why are so nice to me?" I began taking deeper breaths. Please don't say 'I love you'.

"No one should have to face your enemies alone," she gave up. Her left hand slithered down and began to tenderly work on her clit. I matched it, despite the somewhat awkward placement. My hand rested on hers, developing a synergy and allowing me to get a feel how she liked her clitoral stimulation.

Nikita had barely started screeching out her climax when the door swung open.

"You Bastard!" Libra screamed at me. To be that fast, she either teleported, or had been eavesdropping at the door. She stormed away, still yelling at the top of her lungs. It was times like this that Timothy appreciated what I told him when I first looked the place over.

No locks on the interior doors? No problem. The women would cause less damage if all they had to do was break down the exterior door to get at me. He thought I was a joker. I am, but I wasn't joking about that. Kicking open a door is hard on the door sills. They are far more likely to give way then the door is to splinter, or the lock is to break.

There have been a great many women who have busted through all kinds of portals to get at me with vengeance, pain and agony on their mind - my pain and agony if there was any doubt.

"Ah, ah, ah...that was mind-blowing, Cáel," Nikita lilted. "Next time..."

"Yes?" I soaked up her aroma.

"Can we not make this a domestic disturbance case?" she giggled.

"Is that an appeal for some real privacy, or stadium seating?" I teased.

"You are a meanie!" she giggled gleefully. Who calls an adult a meanie? There was only one proper reaction to such a denigrating insult. I helped her take off the rest of her clothes and fucked Nikita two more times.

Nikita and I were exhausted, our bodies intertwined, sweaty, and sated. Odette poked her head in.

"Is it okay for us to join in yet?" Odette asked.

"No," Nikita moaned.

"Not yet," I corrected.

I compensate having no control over my penis by having limited control over every vagina I interact with. I'm not sure how that works, but it does. Case in point:

"I am not engaging in group sex, or sleeping with a girl," Nikita murmured.

"Well, can they sleep in our bed tonight? They have nowhere else to go," I reasoned.

"Ummm," she bit her lower lip. "Okay." Ta-da! I didn't argue with Nikita, or challenge/dare her. I said 'our bed' which put her, theoretically, on top of my female acquaintance hierarchy. Truth? Nah. I never had enough women hanging around together to ever have the time to figure that out. Nikita was going to be in bed with me and two other sexual active women.

Buffy alone was a morality hazard. Odette was spunky. Nikita was armed with three relationships at best - her mom was a cop after all, so dating had to be fun before college. Finally, there was me - the lowest of the low. If cads had a shred of reverence, they worshipped an idol with my face on it.

To my credit (don't laugh), I wasn't forcing Nikita to do anything, only making her do things she'd have never thought she'd do before she met me. We cleaned up then joined the others. The start was awkward. I changed the conversation to things girly: guns. I have a twisted life. Odette knew nothing - pure law-abiding citizen.

I was an amateur gunslinger who picked up firearms to romance a girl, or three. Niki grew up around guns and the people who used them - the police. Her area of expertise was handguns and shotguns. She had little experience with rifles. Buffy had gotten a later start in life, but played 'radical catchup' since then.

While not going into details, Buffy was very engaging. Timothy had no formal training yet had somehow managed to acquire a familiarity over his misspent life. He had even been paid in an AR-14 once. He had, of course, turned it over to the cops...but couldn't remember which cop, or precinct, when prodded by Nikita.

We broke for Korean takeout. There was a problem with the order. Niki, Buffy, and I prepared to head out when Timothy developed a situation in the bathroom. Us guys tried to handle it. We were hopeless. Finally, Nikita intervened and shooed us out to the living room. Timothy 'found' some tools and gave them to Buffy to give to Nikita.

Us guys had been exiled, after all. The second Buffy went into the bathroom, I slipped out the door quietly. Odette gave me a 'thumbs up' then snuck off to my bedroom. Bedroom noises commenced. The take-out issue was that my cute Korean delivery babe was missing me. Despite the plethora of sex coming my way, I discovered I missed her too.

Later.

"Do you find it amusing to not trust us in the least?" Nikita stared at me. I would have felt better if Timothy wasn't bound up with extension cords and his mouth covered with duct tape and trussed up on the floor. Odette was cowering in the far corner of the sofa.

"I apologize," I extended my armload of food. "Old habits die hard."

"You hurt our feelings," Buffy frowned. Still freaked out by that. Why wasn't someone hitting me? Seriously, there are tons of throw-able things in the apartment plus they both had guns.

"If I sneak out, you two don't have to deal with the conflict of me wanting sex with different women," I pleaded.

"This has nothing to do with how fantastic the sex with all of you is. It is that I'm so used to disappointing women then running for my life, the option of gaining anything approaching permission isn't something I know how to handle," I explained.

"What makes you think we'd ever give you permission to cheat?" Buffy smirked.

Ah, the joys of a blossoming four-way. Nikita? Not going to sleep with another woman? Hell, three hours in and she was already dividing up my sex-time with my other bed-buddies. My only worry was Niki would retell this to her Mom, the Police Desk Sergeant. I wasn't worried she'd hurt me. I was worried 'Mom' would toss me in jail.

I'm a very pretty man and I doubt I'd do well in an all-male environment. Sure, there would be female corrections officers. That's not a good thing. I'm incredibly horny and I could see 'don't ask, don't talk back' in my future.

"Listen, both of you," I got feisty. "If I want this level of aggravation, I'll go back to work and slap Elsa."

"Also, why is Odette cowering on the sofa? She didn't do anything wrong," I declared.

"She went into your bedroom, shut your door, and made all kinds of sexy noises. It took us ten minutes to realize we weren't hearing you," Buffy sounded miffed. Odette had fooled her. It wasn't that her 'friend' had done it. It was that Odette, a rank amateur, had tricked the two supposed professionals. Go Odette.

"How can I make it up to you?" I requested.

"We can start by eating," Niki grinned. "I'm starved and Buffy's stomach has been growling."

"Aren't we going to untie Timothy?" I suggested.

"We are thinking about it," Buffy allowed.

I did manage a charm campaign that freed Timothy so he could eat with us.

"Dude, you - are - fucked," were his first words after I untapped his mouth. "They are starting to group think." That didn't stop me from a four-way that night, again around 3 a.m. and yet again right after breakfast. All Sunday Timothy kept shooting me with the Nerf gun.

I had to usher the ladies out late Sunday afternoon. I was double-dating with Ulyssa and her sister once more. Her date never showed. I had the sneaking suspicion he never actually existed. We had a dinner, took in an off-Broadway play and finished up the night with some group sex. I made it home and I realized I had to start a new heart cord. My current one was all tied up.