An Unlikely Romance Ch. 02

Read chapter 1 to get a better idea of where we are right now. Do give your comments and votes at the end.

*

Saturday came by a lot quicker than I was expecting. It was time for my second date with Monica. We were to meet up at CraftSteak for dinner and possibly a movie afterwards.

Even as I dressed up, I felt those urges well up inside. The knife was there in my cupboard. The temptation was unbearable but I had better things to do. Putting on my best suit, I took a cab to CraftSteak along 5th. Already waiting for me with her radiant smile was Monica. Her dress accentuated her curves just the right amount. Her wavy blonde hair came down on both sides of her face. She looked like a picture of perfection. It was nice to see how her face lit up when she spotted me.

"This place is pretty expensive. How much do they pay you to be a cop again?"

She brushed aside my remark.

"My family is loaded. Money was never really an issue for me."

"Then why become a cop?"

"Two words: power and control. No other job gives this much. Besides, I am doing a service to the city, which is more than I can say for the rest of the urban elite."

We ordered prosciutto and halibut. Even as we dug into the food, we never stopped chatting. She told me about her time at the Academy and her early years when she was constantly at odds with her instructors and superiors. Her philosophy to law enforcement was refreshingly simple; rule one: do what it takes to dispense justice, rule two: if red-tape, bureaucracy or anything else comes in the way, refer to rule one.

The new mayor and commissioner seemed to see eye to eye with her on this issue and had given her a free pass to do what was required to keep the city clean. Ever since making detective, she had a perfect clearance rate. On another note, she also had as many complaints stacked up against her as the rest of the NYPD combined. Be it harassing suspects without lawyers to eke out a confession or searching without a warrant or any other of a litany of code violations. Under the new government, she had a carte blanche to do as she wished and a lifeline to circumvent red-tape. Forensic results for her cases took priority over others and she had her choice of manpower. It was official; I was having dinner with Super cop.

"So tell me a bit about yourself? Where did you grow up?"

"I don't remember my real parents. On my fifth birthday, I was adopted by a family in Queens. They were very nice to me. I hear horror stories of kids in foster homes, but my family was perfect. My dad was a city employee; and my mom was a paralegal. They had no children of their own, so they pampered me endlessly. They passed away a few years ago in a car accident."

Immediately, she put out a consoling hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry."

"That's fine. I have moved on."

"So, any more news on the butcher case?"

She narrowed her eyes and gave me a playful glance.

"You know I can't discuss an active investigation, but yes, he's definitely public enemy number one now. We have forcibly asked all the motel owners in Queens, Bronx and Manhattan to carefully see all their guests and check for ID. The next time he strikes, we nab him."

Note to self, no more misadventures in those parts of town. I'm hitting Brooklyn next.

"I think it's just a matter of time until we catch him."

"I hope so." I said, blatantly lying.

We finished our dinner and walked up to parking lot. Feeling contented with myself, I walked ahead of her.

"Did you really think you would get away with it?"

I froze in my tracks and took a quick glance backwards to see she had taken her gun out and aimed it straight at my head. Petrified, I turned around, silently wondering how she found out.

"Put your hands on your head and stand against the car."

Mechanically, I followed the order, thinking that my redemption was over even before it began.

"Simon Chase, I hereby place you under arrest on charges of leaving a woman alone and horny after your first date."

The relief on my face was palpable. I sighed aloud as I realized her little joke.

"Was there anything funny in what I said? You don't seem to realize that you're in big trouble?"

"Won't you read me my rights?" I said innocently.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in bed. Though it is strongly recommended you give up that right in the bedroom. You have the right to ask for a condom. If you do not have one, one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, now get in the back. We are going to my place to have sex." Monica said, matter-of-factly.

Still a little queasy from my initial fear, I got into the back of her car. She careened through traffic back to Washington Heights. I got an erection even before we reached. Monica quite literally dragged me out of her car and up to her apartment. Once there, she brandished a pair of handcuffs and looked at me questioningly.

"I have many uses for this, even when I'm not on the job."

After securely fastening my hands around her bedpost, she ripped off all my clothes in alarming fashion. I was down to my underwear when she finally stopped to catch her breath. It was only a momentary lapse as she took a hold of my waistband and yanked it off. Her eyes roamed up and down my naked form.

"I'll be right back." she said and headed off to the bathroom.

I lay there, prone and immobile for a few minutes before I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom. The door swung open and Monica entered, as naked as I was. Confidently, she strode over to my side and straddled me in one quick motion.

"You should probably know, I like it rough."

"What do you....."

I was rudely cut off by her landing a tight slap across my face. I yelped in pain and felt my cheek go warm. There was barely a second to recover, when the back of her palm connected with my other cheek while coming back. My face was stinging and hot.

She just sat on me and looked on my painful visage with a playful look on her face. Raising her hips just a bit, she lowered her cunt onto my erect member. The feeling was indescribable as her vaginal walls closed around my shaft. Keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she started moving up and down. This woman obviously didn't have a gentle bone in her body as she kept up the pace of a jackhammer.

I tried to push upwards to meet her motion, with little success. Soon, I realized that there was no way I could match her strength or speed. I resigned myself to being the passive partner as she continued with the fine delicacy of a car crash.

Soon, I could feel the beginnings of what was surely going to be a massive orgasm. I remembered something she told me in the car.

"I would like to exercise my constitutional right to a condom now."

"Sorry, that would be in violation with my constitutional right to feel your hot cum shooting against my cervix."

She kept up this animalistic pace until I was getting visibly close to a powerful. She seemed to sense that and asked, "Going to cum soon?"

I fervently nodded my head. What she did next was totally unexpected. She placed her arms around my neck and started to apply pressure. My eyes went wide and I could feel my vision go a blurred. I thrashed desperately telling her to let go. She relaxed her grip and intensely looked into my eyes.

"Do you trust me? Then let me do this. It will be the best climax of your life. Just put all your faith in me and I won't hurt you."

There was something in her tone which told me to do it. I reluctantly nodded as she placed her powerful hands around my neck once more. I took a long look at her face. There was something in her expression that inspired faith. Giving a weak smile, I gave her the go-ahead to start. She gradually increased the speed of her pelvic motion and increased the pressure on my neck. Once more, I felt parts of my body lose feeling, but I resisted the urge to move.

Encouraged by my self-control, she started gyrating her hips at a fast pace and closed those strong palms around my neck. My vision was beginning to fade as I felt myself nearing climax. Finally, on the verge of losing consciousness, I had my orgasm.

It was like an electric charge surging through my body, restoring feeling to every part. She was dead-on, this orgasm felt other-worldly compared to the usual. I could actually feel like I was floating on thin air as the aftermath of the climax settled. She took off her hands and smiled at me.

"I told you you'd like it."

She released me and went to get some food. I sat up against the bed rest and panted with exhaustion. I had tried auto-erotic asphyxiation once but bailed before orgasm. Since then, I had no further experiences with choke-and-stroke. Until I met Monica.

She returned carrying a packet of crisps and tossed it at me. I gratefully opened them as she lit a cigarette. I looked at it and flinched. I can't explain why but I have always been afraid of anything with fire, especially cigarettes. She seemed to sense this and stubbed it out on the ashtray.

"I noticed several burn marks around your shoulders and arms. They look like cigarette burns. Were your foster parents really as good as you told me?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"They were. Honestly, I can't explain these burns. I probably got them before I was adopted."

"Do you remember anything about your biological parents?"

"My earliest memories are with my foster family. I have no clue who I was before that."

"Let's not waste any more time on small talk. You left me horny and wanting last time, so you definitely owe me another screw now. I say you do me like a bitch this time."

"All right, let's do this." I said eagerly getting on my knees.

Monica smiled at me wistfully and sat down in front of me on the bed. Her eyes seemed fixed on my spent organ. Lowering her head, she took the entire length of my dick in her mouth and moved her tongue back and forth over the length. She was very skilled at this. After a few moments of this, she withdrew my organ from her mouth and just observed it closely. She stuck out her tongue and just grazed the tip against my super sensitive head and gently ran her tongue down the shaft and back up again.

The feeling was spectacular and I was back to full hardness in no time. She positioned herself in front of my erection and told me to go for it. I eagerly thrust and sank my entire cock inside her. She liked this and kept encouraging me to go faster. I moved through the gears at full speed and was soon pumping her at full speed. She matched my thrusts by pushing back. The continuous rhythmic slamming of bodies got me increasingly fired up as I could feel the climax building. Even in my blissful state, I could hear a buzzing from somewhere nearby. I glanced over at the table to see our phones.

"Don't you dare......" was all she said.

"Ummm.... I think it's your phone."

"So what?"

I hastily pulled out and said, "You should take it, could be important?"

With an incensed glare fixed on me, she got off the bed and walked over to the table.

"Devereaux speaking. What!! Where? Alright, secure the scene and get a hold of some witnesses, I'm coming."

"Sounds serious."

"No kidding, Sherlock. Guess what, you were wrong, the butcher would not leave us alone, even for the weekend."

Utterly bewildered, I mustered up a weak response, "The BUTCHER?"

"The very same. In a motel off Deer Park Avenue."

"That's in Long Island, right? Outside your search grid."

Continuing to glare at him, she hurriedly got dressed.

"This date is incomplete. This mother fucker is really getting on my nerves now. I am going to castrate that guy when I catch him."

I sincerely hoped she meant the guy behind the latest crime. I walked out to my car trying to make sense of what had just unfolded.

---

Monica looked perpetually angry at crime scenes, but this time, she was visibly livid as she strode into the Sea View Motel in Long Island. She jostled through a crowd of reporters desperately trying to get a piece of her. Judy Lynch stepped in the way, but was forcefully pushed aside.

Boz was waiting for her at the reception counter. Even he seemed shaken.

"Monica, thank God you're here. This guy left a mess over here. I don't know what to make of it."

"What do you mean? He did something else this time."

"Just take a look."

She made her way past a corridor full of forensics and CSIs. They all seemed mortified by what they had seen inside. She passed Aaron, who had just returned from the bathroom after vomiting. She gave him a reassuring look as she passed. Taking a deep breath she entered the room.

Even someone as hardened as Monica gasped at what she saw inside. The hooker's body was laid to rest, everywhere. On the bed, beside the bed, in front of the bed, behind the bed and all over the floor. She had been cut into at least twenty pieces. Her head was propped up on the pillow and it smiled grotesquely at her. Blood was strewn all over the walls and the floor.

"Oh my God!"

She pushed her revulsion aside and started to minutely inspect the room. Her police instinct was telling her something. She thought it over. It made sense.

"Did we get any DNA?"

"There was a struggle here, we have some foreign DNA under the fingernails. But it's no use. The guy is not in our database."

"Just humour me and run it through the database again."

Puzzled, Boz called up the lab. Given the media spotlight this case was getting, this DNA would get immediate priority over other cases. They would have the results in half an hour.

Monica, in the meantime, kept looking for more clues. She found some fabric which did not appear to belong to the victim and bagged it. Sometime later Boz came back, breathless.

"Just got the results back from the lab. You won't believe what we got."

"I know." said Monica quietly

---

A copycat. Seriously?

Has the city of New York suddenly run out of role-models so people are inspired by me now? The more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

There was no shortage of crazy, eccentric nutcases in the city, but this guy was in a league of his own. Who the hell tries to become the most infamous New Yorker since Son of Sam?

I was still puzzled by these thoughts when I got a call from Monica.

"Hey, listen, we nabbed the guy."

"The butcher?" I said, trying my best to feign ignorance.

"Not exactly. The guy behind this crime is a wannabe butcher. We found some prints and DNA at the scene and ran it through the system. It came back to a guy with a history of religious psychosis. He had a record of assaulting hookers on multiple occasions. Looks like the butcher gave him inspiration to take it up a notch."

I felt flattered.

"We've just hauled his ass in at the station. Looks like an open and shut case."

"That's great. I'll bring over some pizza to the station. You guys must be hungry after such a long day."

"That would be great. I'll tell the guys at the entrance to let you in."

So I got four boxes of New York's best pizza from Nick's for New York's finest. The guys on the ground floor relieved me of one box and handed me a visitor's badge. I made my way up to the Homicide Division. The entire place was buzzing with activity. I spotted Monica in the far corner talking to some officers. She saw me and ushered me over.

"Simon, meet the men and women of NYPD homicide. This is my partner Det. Brian Bozman. This is Det. Anne Sherwood............." she went on with the introductions as I gave my best fake smile and handed over pizza from time to time.

Boz was grinning from ear to ear as he pointed in the direction of the interrogation room. Inside was a large irritated looking man in his late forties.

"Malcolm Burns. Used to be a pastor downtown. He got too involved with religion and started pontificating his radical views a decade or so back. He would frequently assault hookers on street corners and leave them bleeding. He kept chanting from the Bible about God and how he was told by God to kill all immoral women. He was locked up on assault charges for a few years."

"Religious psycho? Expected I guess."

"We still need to break him. I'm going inside. You can watch it on the big screen with the rest of them."

"Be careful."

She winked at me before preparing for the task at hand. I walked over to the crowd of cops glued to the big screen waiting to see what Monica did. Boz stood beside me.

"So you're Monica's latest plaything. I hear she likes to play rough."

"You have no idea." I said, still a bit sore from tonight's performance.

"Actually I do." he said, pursing his lips.

"Wait, did the two of you......."

"It was a long time ago, when I was assigned to be her partner. It was almost surreal. I was jacking off to her endlessly. Then one day, she yanks me to her car after work and takes me back to her place. No questions asked."

"I know how that feels. She's not exactly delicate when it comes to making a move."

"It wasn't that part that bugged me. After we got back to her place and she undressed me the same way she would unwrap a large Christmas present, she really got rough."

"Did she do the choke thing?"

"No, she umm....." he lowered his voice, "left teeth marks on my ass cheeks."

"No way."

"I still have them. She looks at it like she has branded me, like cattle."

"SHH, the show is about to begin."

All eyes turned to the screen as Monica walked into the interrogation room.

"Sherwood, you had better keep the EMTs nearby." said Boz

"Good idea, in case this guy gets violent."

Boz looked at me derisively, "It's not Monica we're worried about."

---

Monica sat opposite the guy. He just looked at her, intense hatred piling up in his mind.

"Mr. Burns, do you know what you're here for?"

"God sent me here. He called out to me and like His faithful lamb, I answered the call."

"I'm sure He did. Did you go to the Sea View Motel today?"

"I went where God told me to go."

Monica stood up and banged her fists against the table. He went on.

"To keep thee from the evil woman - Solomon had suffered sorely from this quarter; and hence his repeated cautions and warnings to others. The strange woman always means one that is not a man's own; and sometimes it may also imply a foreign harlot, one who is also a stranger to the God of Israel."

Monica could feel the bile rising in her stomach.

"And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication. And upon her forehead was a name written a mystery: BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH. The whore of Babylon."

"Listen to me, did you or did you not kill this woman." said Monica forcefully thrusting a photograph towards him."

Oblivious to her, he went on.

"And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus: and when I saw her, I wondered with great admiration. And here is the mind which hath wisdom. The seven heads are seven mountains, on which the woman sat. And there are seven kings: five are fallen, and one is, and the other is not yet come; and when He comes, He must continue a short space."

She went over to the other side of the table and forced him to look at the picture. He turned away and went on.

"And the beast that was, and is not, even He is the eighth, and is of the seven, and goes into perdition. And the ten horns which thou saw are ten kings, which have received no kingdom as yet; but receive power as kings one hour with the beast. And He said unto me, the waters which thou sawest, where the whore sat, are peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues."