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This is a spinoff of Strangers on a Train, Ch. 2.
Clemmie finds herself back in Canada, once again on the wrong side of the law.
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"Listen I gotta go, I'm about to be driving in a minute." She didn't see the car at the side of the building. "Well, fuck. Seriously. FUCK."
"What?"
"I hit a car."
"Aren't you currently in a parking lot?"
"it was parked on the side, out of the light."
"Smooth."
"I don't think anyone saw."
"Dude."
"I barely touched it."
"Dude."
"Oh shit, there's a cop in there. A Mounty. Fuck."
"You need to go in there and fess up right now."
"Why do those guys keep turning up?"
"What?"
"Never mind. I absolutely cannot get any more points on my insurance."
"DUDE."
"I have to get out of here."
"Well, call me from jail."
--
Looking out the window, "Motherfucker, did that bitch just hit my car?"
"She sure did."
Incredulously, "She's leaving?"
"She sure is."
"She has to be American."
"She sure does."
"We seriously have to wall our southern border."
"We sure do. In the meantime, check out the damage, I'll run her down."
"Bring her back drawn and quartered, please."
---
It wasn't until she got on the highway that her mother's disappointed face started to float before her eyes. A mile further, she couldn't take it. "Goddammit." Practicing what she'd say when she went in to confess, she flipped a U-turn. The car behind her did the same, and a police light came on. The siren blipped. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."
He motioned her into a rest stop and approached the car with care -- little chick or not, you should always be careful. The car was a beast of an 80's vintage Ford. Bench seats, three on the tree, electric everything, the whole nine, in cherry condition. A boat.
"Holy shit, it's you."
Shading her eyes from the flashlight, "Holy shit, it's you."
"My very own bad penny. Why did you flip a u-y?" Stepping back to take in the whole visual, "And since I'm asking, how did you even do it? Who flips a u-y in a yacht?"
"I'm used to it." She patted the dash. "We understand each other. And I was going back."
"Is that so?"
"I mean, at first I didn't think it was anything, but then..." Interrupting her, "But then you thought leaving the scene was even dumber than rear-ending someone in a parking lot?"
"I felt guilty."
"Sure, that. Or, and hear me out, you thought I clocked your tags and decided it'd be smarter to not run."
"I was coming back. Doesn't that count for something?"
"Not much."
"Why do you care? You're like Federal, right? Like Canada FBI?"
"You Wiki'd us, didn't you?"
"Whatever. You're not highway patrol, this isn't your yard."
"That was a friend's car. And it's all my yard. License and registration, please."
Watching her cutoffs ride up as she stretched a mile to root around in the glove box, he was glad she wasn't simpering, wasn't trying to vibe that she'd give it up for a get-out-of-jail-free card. But man, she was a fucking ride, that one. That smart mouth on her, angling for a spanking -- which was a sincere pleasure to give -- soft tits around his cock, bending her over the interview table, her getting off being watched. Holy fuck.
Aware of her shorts riding up as she rooted around in the glove box, she was glad he wasn't leering, wasn't trying to vibe he'd give her a get-out-of-jail-free card if she gave it up. But lord, he was a serious lay, that one. Giving her that look that shut her up quick, motherfucker actually spanking her, fucking her with his fingers, then on his lap, that cock thicker than hell, the guy outside watching. Holy fuck.
"You don't have to be a dick about it. I. was. coming. back." This, heated.
"What did you say?" There was that look. Her mouth went dry, all the moisture heading south. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it; I'm sorry."
"You're right, you shouldn't have, yes, you did, and no you're not. Wait here."
"Where are you going?"
"Where do you think? I'm calling this in. Wait. Here."
Not calling it in, he called Katie instead. "What's the damage?"
"None, I guess. But what the hell."
"No damage? Forget it then. She's no threat to society."
"She's a threat to my car, Ian. She could have totaled it at 10 miles an hour, in that thing."
"She was coming back -- I caught up to her after she'd already made a U-turn."
"Guilty conscience? Riiight."
"Cynic." Watching her get out of the car, because of course, "Nice, though, right?"
"Very. I only saw her from a distance, though. Is she as good up close?"
"Better."
"You owe me, man."
"Next taillight's on me."
"Fuck you."
"Anytime. Go ahead and close up, head on home. I'll keep you posted."
***
Not actually waiting, not doing what he told her to do, he watched her walk toward his car. The headlights made a mockery of her loose white t-shirt, midriff peeking. her braless tits bobbed with every step. Is she barefoot? Christ, this girl.
"I told you to wait there." Shrugging, "You were fun to hang out with, last time I was here."
"Hang out with? The way I remember it, we did more than hang out. You were quite the little slut. Dropped your panties quick." A hand on the back of her neck steered her back to the car. "Hands on the hood, please."
"You were quite the unprofessional. You gave me an actual spanking. You pulled my dress up in an interrogation room."
"Uh huh. And you gave me one sweet ride. I can still see it. Man, you looked cute, getting all the way off on it. We call it an interview room, though. Hands on the hood, please."
"You're going to search me?" Gesturing down at herself. What do you suppose I'm hiding?" His knee between hers, he ran his fingers down her neck. "Safety first, what can I say? Y'know, usually this is the worst part of the job. Tonight it's a perk." As he worked their way down her body, she sighed with pleasure and dropped her head. His thigh spread hers further. "You like that?"
"I understand the danger you're in. You have to be sure."
"Procedure dictates." Hands under her t-shirt now, "Anything here?" Squeezing her bare breasts, lightly - lazily - pinching her nipples. "Pigtails and cutoffs? Really? It's almost like you dressed to get my dick hard."
Dropping to one knee, he ran his hands from her ankle upward. His touch was gentle, but confident, as it had been before. Another guy's hands might have felt like he was taking it. This guy's hands knew she was going to offer.
Is he about to fuck me right here? Christ, this guy.
Goosebumps rising, "I can hardly be hiding weapons on my bare legs." The journey from the other ankle brought his fingers under the edge of her shorts. "Can't be too careful. Take your shorts down for me."
Holy shit, he is.
"That's enough, you don't have to drop them, just need to see if you're hiding anything there." As she unzipped her shorts, Clemmie looked up, "There are cameras, you know."