Playing with Bad Boys

He was aghast. "No, Honey, I'd never do anything like that. I love you, I . . ."

But she was in full stride now and not about to yield the advantage. "Well if you're not seeing someone, tell me what you were doing," she demanded.

"I can't do that, honey," he pleaded.

"Can't or won't?" she replied obstinately.

It had been a long, hard night for Robert, and his weariness and frustration at his wife's unfair accusations overcame his reticence.

"It was a crime scene," he said wearily. "I had to go investigate a crime scene."

Inwardly Shannon rejoiced that her tactics were working, but she didn't want to let him off the hook so quickly. "Crime happens every day, Robert. What made this so special that you had to be out until all hours of the night?"

He sighed in resignation and began to speak in a low, cold voice. "You really want to know? Alright then, it was a murder, actually a double hit. Two guys we'd been after for a long time got executed tonight. Whoever did it hauled them out to a landfill, put a gun to their heads, and killed them."

By now, resignation had turned to resentment at being forced to reveal what he had tried to shield Shannon from, and Robert kept on with his description of the scene. "They put bags over their heads, tied their hands behind them and forced them to kneel in the garbage before they shot them. You know why they put bags over their heads?" he demanded, and Shannon shrank back at his vehemence.

"I guess so they couldn't see the faces of the men who kidnapped them," she ventured.

"They didn't give a damn if their victims saw them," Robert said in an angry tone. "Have you ever seen a bullet hit a melon? The same thing happens when you shoot a man in the head. They put bags over their heads to keep the brains from splattering everywhere."

He shook his head at the memory and stared off into space. "Both of them were shot in the back of the head. When the medical examiner pulled the bags off, there wasn't much left of their faces."

He shook his head as if to clear away the memory. "Anyway, that's what I was out doing while you and your friends were having fun at the wedding reception. Are you satisfied now?" he asked bitterly.

Shannon said nothing, but her pale face and wide eyes made clear the impact his story had made.

Robert quickly finished undressing, climbed into bed and pointedly turned his back to Shannon. She switched off the bedside light and pulled the covers around her, pleased that her stratagem had successfully diverted his attention. She reached down to see if her pussy was leaking. It wasn't, but she was surprised to find that it was tender to the touch. "What a wild night!" she thought, and rolled over to go to sleep. But as she drifted off, the image that came to her mind was not her encounter with Darren but the execution-style slaying that Robert had described. Her last conscious thought was to wish she hadn't pushed Robert quite so far.

Shannon slept till noon the next morning. Robert was cool to her when she finally arose, but he began to warm up to her as the afternoon went on. Yet instead of being relieved that his anger had faded, Shannon just felt depressed. Saturday night had been an exciting and satisfying adventure, but now her life was already returning to the routine she found so boring, leaving her even more restless. Her encounter with Stacy and especially Darren had reawakened impulses and desires she hadn't felt since high school. To resume her humdrum existence seemed almost unbearable now.

She was still depressed the next morning when she left for work, but that was the way work made her feel most mornings. Her Business Administration degree had qualified her for a position at the School District of Philadelphia, and she had managed to land a job as administrative assistant to the director of Procurement Services. Shannon didn't care for the director -- the man was a lecher who was always trying to sneak a peek down her blouse or up her skirt -- but she was glad to have a job. She even made it a point to give her boss a few "inadvertent" looks to ensure a good annual evaluation. Nevertheless, the work was mostly mind-numbing routine, and she had quickly tired of it.

But this Monday held a surprise. When the director went out to the lobby to greet a visitor and brought him back to the office, Shannon almost gasped out loud. The visitor was none other than Darren! He was wearing a suit and tie, his hair was combed back in a conservative style, and he'd removed the silver earring, but there was no doubt it was him.

A slight grin crossed Darren's face when he spotted Shannon, but he said nothing and gave no other sign of recognition.

As the two men went into the director's office and the door closed behind them, Shannon's mind was awhirl. Memories of Saturday night came flooding back to her, and she was full of questions about Darren's unexpected reappearance and his meeting with her boss.

Curiosity overcame her and she clicked on the intercom system while carefully turning down the volume. The office still had an old system that enabled the director to give her instructions without leaving his desk. Shannon had long ago figured out how she could use it for eavesdropping. It was risky, but she was too curious to resist temptation.

After listening to their conversation for a while, she was even more perplexed. Darren seemed to be no more than another salesman trying to sell cleaning and office supplies to the school system. She could hardly believe that Saturday night's bad boy on a motorcycle could be a soap salesman by day. But the longer she listened, the more something seemed odd about their negotiations. Darren told her boss he represented a new business in the area trying to establish a relationship with the school system. The director didn't seem particularly receptive at first, but then the tone of the conversation changed.

"Our company is eager to show you how competitive we can be," Darren said in a confident voice, "so eager that we're prepared to make you a very special offer. It's not unusual for us to do business through a broker, and when we do, we pay the broker a 10% commission. Since there's no broker in this case, we'd be willing to offer you that same commission as a token of appreciation for helping us get our foot in the door."

Shannon could hear the sound of the director rocking back in his desk chair, and she could just imagine the expression on his face. "You said a 10% commission," the director said as though he was barely interested. "And what would be the limit on the order size?"

"No limit at all, Mr. Director," Darren answered smoothly. "The commission would remain the same and apply to any size order. If you wanted a year's supply for the entire school district, we'd be happy to accommodate you."

"And how would this commission be paid?" Shannon's boss asked a little too quickly.

"Our company is not big on procedures and red-tape," Darren replied glibly. "I could bring you a cashier's check, if that would be satisfactory."

There was a long pause, and Shannon wondered what was happening. Then she heard her boss start up again. "We at the Procurement Office are always interested in developing new resources for the District's needs. I think we'd like to place an order with your firm in this amount."

The intercom clearly picked up the sound of a sheet of paper being slid across the desk.

"Very good, sir," Darren replied. "I'll have your commission check ready late tomorrow morning." Shannon thought she heard the two men shake hands, and she assumed their negotiations were done. But then Darren spoke up again, this time in a slightly different tone of voice. "Mr. Director, there is one other consideration I need to inform you about. Our company has experienced some unfortunate 'changes of heart,' you might say, in the past, on the part of others to whom we've made a similar offer. We've paid the commission only to have the order get cancelled or sharply reduced. Accordingly, our company now requires simultaneous payment for the order. Moreover, since we're paying the commission by cashier's check, it's only fair that we require that the order be paid for the same way, by cashier's check."

Shannon heard the director's chair sit upright abruptly. "This is most unusual," the director harrumphed. "I don't even know if I have the authority to issue a cashier's check, especially for such a large amount."

"You're right," came Darren's silky voice, "it is unusual, but so is the commission we're offering you. I'm sure you'd find it would come in very handy just now. Of course, if you feel you need to lower the size of your order to meet departmental standards, I'd certainly understand."

There was another long pause, and Shannon found herself listening eagerly.

Finally the director spoke up. "No, no, I think we can handle that. But be sure you're back here before noon -- I have a luncheon to attend tomorrow and I don't know how late it will run."

"Hah!" thought Shannon, who knew the director had no such luncheon on his schedule. "He wants to deposit that check as quickly as possible."

She quickly shut off the intercom and pretended to be hard at work at her computer as the two men came out of the director's office. "Thank you again, sir. I look forward to a long and mutually rewarding relationship between our organizations," Darren gushed. Then he turned and left without even a glance at Shannon.

As she drove home from work that afternoon, Shannon couldn't stop thinking about what she had overheard. She might not be a lawyer or policeman, but she knew a bribe when she heard one offered. She wasn't particularly surprised that Darren might offer a bribe to get the District's business, but she still couldn't see him as a sales rep, even a crooked one. And then there was this whole business about the cashiers' checks. Once he'd gotten the director to agree to the deal, why would Darren risk the whole thing by throwing in that curve ball? She'd have to think on that one some more.

Her thoughts turned to the director and she shook her head in disgust. That the old lecher was willing to accept a bribe didn't surprise her either, and for a moment she wondered if she ought to report what had happened to someone. But the thought quickly passed -- it wasn't her problem.

But her thoughts kept returning to Darren. She'd never expected to see him again; to have him appear at her workplace started a flood of emotions she was having trouble controlling. That night she dreamed about him.

The next morning, when Darren arrived at the building, the director rushed out to usher him into his office like a celebrity. "No interruptions, Shannon," he barked at her, and Shannon had to struggle to control her grimace. As soon as the two men disappeared behind the closed door, she quickly switched on the intercom.

When the director asked if he had the "commission," Darren's voice sounded like it had been dipped in oil. "I do," he replied, "and just to show you how confident my company is in you and the school district, let me present our cashier's check before I even see your order and your payment."

Shannon could imagine the scene as the director snatched the check and scanned it anxiously. After a pause, she heard him tell Darren, "Everything seems to be in order. Very well, here's our check along with our order in the amount we discussed yesterday. I had to pull some strings to get a cashier's check for this amount, but here it is."

"Thank you, sir," came Darren's reply. "You won't regret it. And let me remind you that our arrangement will remain in place for any future orders as well. You'll see: this will be a very profitable arrangement for all of us."

"Very good," the director said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to that luncheon I mentioned."

The two men came back into the anteroom and the director told Shannon he was off to lunch. She nodded and told him that she would take her lunch break as well.

As soon as the men were gone, Shannon grabbed her coat and hurried out to her car. As she made her way through lunch-hour traffic, she wondered what she was getting into. Nevertheless, she continued driving and soon arrived outside the shabby apartments that she'd remembered from Saturday night. She sat in her car and waited, hoping that she'd read the situation correctly. It wasn't long before she saw Darren drive up and stride toward the front door. She quickly hopped out of her car and ran toward him. "Darren, wait!"

He turned to stare and for a moment his face revealed his surprise; then it transformed into a wary stare. "Hello, Shannon. You might as well come inside," he said, and held the door for her.

There was no one else in the apartment, and once inside he turned to look at her with his arms crossed. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Shannon ignored his question. "I listened to you," she told him. "I heard everything you and the director talked about. I know you bribed him."

"So," he asked in a surly tone, "are you going to turn me in?"

She ignored him again. "Only, I think there's more going on than bribery. I don't believe you're a soap salesman, I think you're a con man. I think that check you gave him wasn't any good."

Darren's mouth took on a crooked grin, but his eyes didn't smile. "You're smarter than I thought. Yes, the whole deal was a con, and the check I gave him was as phony as a politician's promise," he said. "But the check he gave me from the school district was good as gold, and I've already cashed it."

"What happens when the director tries to cash his check and finds out it's a fake?" she asked. "Won't he have the police after you?"

Now his grin grew more insolent. "That's the beauty of this particular sting: he's screwed no matter what he does. The only way he can report me is to admit that he took a bribe. He probably won't be willing to do that until he's forced to explain why there haven't been any shipments of cleaning supplies. I'll be long gone by then."

Then Darren's eyes narrowed. "So how much do you want to keep quiet?"

"I don't want your money," she said evenly.

This time he was visibly surprised. "No? Then what do you want?"

She looked at him steadily. "I want you to take me with you."

Her answer caught him off guard, and he stood there thinking for a minute. Then his face relaxed and his smile returned. "Are you sure? Do you really want to leave your loving hubby, your nice home in the suburbs and your nine-to-five job?" he asked mockingly. "Do you really want to give all that up to run with me?"

A look of savage intensity came over her face. "I think I've been looking for someone like you my whole life!" she said huskily, and threw herself against him, kissing him passionately. His hands reached down to grab her ass and press her against his rapidly stiffening cock.

Shannon began to pant, but before she could do anything more, Darren grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back to stare into her eyes. "I'm leaving town right away. I'll be outside your house in one hour. If you're not ready to go, I'm not waiting for you."

"We're leaving on your motorcycle?" she asked.

"No, I'll be in a car. Sometimes you have to leave your toys behind when you live this kind of life."

"What about Stacy?" she asked.

"Like I said, you have to be ready to leave your toys behind. Now get going and be outside your place at 1:30 -- or I'll leave you behind as well."

Shannon kissed him again and then ran for the door. Hopping into her car, she quickly drove to the nearest branch of their bank and withdrew the money from her checking account and the joint savings account. Then she sped home. Once there, she grabbed a suitcase and make-up bag, and hurriedly stuffed them with a few things she felt she couldn't live without. On her way back downstairs, she picked up a piece of paper to write Robert a note, but couldn't think of what to say. Finally, she scribbled "Sorry" and left the note on the kitchen counter along with her wedding ring. Then she went to the front porch to watch for Darren.

As she sat on the steps, doubt began to build. This was the craziest, most impulsive thing she had ever done, and her conscience was screaming at her to stop before it was too late. But just at that minute, she saw an undistinguished sedan pull up in front of her house, and with soaring heart she ran to it, leaving the door to their apartment unlocked. She tossed her bags into the back and then slid into the passenger seat as Darren pulled away from the curb.

As they drove off, Shannon's thoughts drifted to Robert and she for a moment she felt badly for him. He truly loved her, she knew, and this would hurt him badly. Then she thought about her parents and how disappointed they would be when they learned what she had done. "But it doesn't matter," she thought fiercely, "It's my life, and they can't try to run it anymore. I know what I want and what I need -- and I'm going to take it."

The next few months went by in a haze for Shannon. Darren had driven south to Wilmington, and the two of them had moved into a cheap motel with long-term rates and a short-term memory. The days and nights were a blurry combination of vacation and honeymoon, filled with smoky night clubs, drug-induced lassitude and, most of all, hot sex whenever, wherever and however they wanted it. Nothing was planned; everything was done on impulse and whim.

Shannon loved the lack of responsibility, the opportunity to sleep till noon after partying all night and the fact that she was no longer answerable to anyone. It was as though she had jump-shifted back to adolescence, except that there were no parents attempting to rein in her excesses. She thought of them occasionally as well as Robert, but she pushed those thoughts aside angrily. "That was then, this is now," she told herself. "I'm living my life on my terms, doing what I want to do."

So it was a bit of a shock when Darren woke her from sleep one afternoon and told her that she would have to go to work. "We're low on money," he explained. "We need to make some cash."

By now Shannon was awake, although still somewhat foggy. "What do you want me to do?" she asked petulantly.

He ignored her attitude. "You're going to become a legal secretary," he informed her.

"But I don't know anything about legal work," she protested.

"You don't know anything about handling pigeons either," he calmly replied, "but you will. First, however, we need to go shopping."

That afternoon found them in the Nordstrom's in the Christiana Mall southwest of downtown Wilmington. As Shannon made her way through the Women's Department, out of the corner of her eye she spotted Darren strolling several aisles away. Continuing her shopping, she soon found a black Alexander Wang pencil skirt with a zippered slit at the side. Immediately she knew it would be ideal, so asked a salesgirl if she could try on her size. The fit was perfect. When she came out of the dressing room, she hung the skirt back on the rack, leaving it sticking out from the others just a little. Then she told the girl that she wanted to shop some more and moved on to blouses.

Moving through the displays, Shannon soon focused on a white long-sleeve model that looked appropriate for the office. Remembering Darren's instructions, she tried on one that was a size smaller than she normally wore. After admiring herself in the dressing room mirror, she returned the blouse to the rack, once again leaving it protruding slightly.

From there she made her way to the shoe department and, after trying on a number of styles, proceeded to select a pair of elegant black high-heeled pumps that she purchased with cash despite the $300 price tag. Then she strolled casually to the food court and took a seat. Only minutes later, Darren joined her, carrying a large bag from Champs Sports.