Englishman In New York Ch 06

The woman was beautiful. Her hair was a tasty shade of strawberry-blonde, tastefully styled in a cap of curls around her face. Her inviting mouth was rimmed with red and her pale breasts bulged from just beneath the edges of the lace teddy, teasing him with their plump, freckled tops. He ached to rub his finger along those snowy peaks but he didn't know her well enough yet.

"Would you like a drink?"

She nodded negatively and moved closer to him on the couch, turning her pretty face toward his. He took the hint and leaned down, taking her mouth in a gentle kiss and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She was so submissive and he loved that. He wanted to be the man, to show her that he could take care of her and he wanted her to know it. Still kissing her, he reached over and let his hand cup one of her breasts, rubbing her nipple between his fingers.

"You like that, don't you?"

He slipped the strap of her slip down over her shoulder, letting his fingers smooth her soft skin. Her breast popped out, the nipple soft and pink and he tongued it, taking the time to feel the different textures. He spent time, moving back and forth between the two but his need was too great and he couldn't fight it any longer. While his lips learned the valley between her breasts, his hand crept down and connected with his rock-hard cock, giving it a squeeze before unzipping and releasing it.

"Give it a little suck, will you?"

Her lips opened and he pushed her head down, groaning deeply as she took all of his six-inch length into her mouth, letting it hit the back of his throat. She was so good. He could never get enough of the soft, wet warmth of her mouth and her flexible tongue. She rubbed it against the underside of his cock, targeting the small bundle of nerves just south of the ridge and making him tremble.

"Yeah, baby. Just like that. Take it. Take it all."

He wanted to fuck her but once she started sucking his cock, he knew he wouldn't last. Her tiny throat formed a vacuum around his rod and all at once, she was squeezing and sucking him at the same time. He leaned back in the chair, keeping his hand on the back of her head as his hips thrust upward, forcing his cock farther down her gullet.

"Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck, baby, I'm going to cum!"

His spurt of cum was accompanied by his strangled shout and his body jerked with each release, his legs stiff and out straight. She was so good. She milked every last drop out of him, leaving him weak and satiated, a smile on his face. The knock on the vestry door instantly wiped that smile away and he leaped to his feet.

"Reverend Taylor?"

"I'll be right out."

Sutton took a seat on one of the pews, glancing over at Fusco. "What the hell's he doing in there?"

"I don't know. Giving a private blessing?"

The detective chuckled darkly, casting her gaze around the small church. She hadn't been in a church since Christinna died. She figured that there was no God if he allowed her to die like that. The vestry door opened and Reverend Henry Taylor strode forward, his uniform immaculate. He extended a hand to Fusco, then turned to her as she arose.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was doing some computer work."

"A computer in a church. The world moves forward."

"Always, Detective Sutton. The needs of the soul are not constrained by technology." Taylor snickered as if making a private joke. "How can I help you?"

"I wanted to ask you a few questions. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

"Good." Sutton watched the minister nervously turn away from her, watching her partner walk around the altar, examining the sacred articles of his faith with the technical eye of a trained police officer. "I noticed that you were at the Wilcox scene. I believe that you said a prayer over her."

"Uh, yes." Taylor answered her, then turned his attention back to Fusco.

What are you nervous about, reverend?

"I gave her Last Rites."

"How did you know she was Catholic?"

"I didn't. I give Last Rites to anyone that needs it, regardless of faith."

"Or lack of it?"

Reverend Taylor shook his head. "We are all granted absolution if we ask forgiveness for our sins. Why should a prostitute be any different?"

"That's very gracious of you, Reverend Taylor. Is that why you came to the Briars scene?"

She caught the slightest hint of surprise cross his face before he composed himself. "The Briars scene?"

Sutton pulled the photo from the file folder she carried and showed it to the man, carefully observing his reaction. "Oh, yes. I was on my way to a prayer meeting and happened to see it. I gave her Last Rites also."

"I see." She replaced the photo. "Had you seen either of the girls before their deaths?"

"N-No."

A stutter. What are you so nervous about?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I would know it." Taylor looked around again, noticing that Fusco had disappeared. "Where is Mr. Fusco?"

"Oh, he's probably around some where, most likely outside smoking."

"Please excuse me."

"Reverend Taylor, I'm not finished … "

The good reverend headed for the vestry at a dead run with Detective Sutton right behind him. Fusco was inside the small room, examining framed certificates that dotted the paneling. He looked up in confusion when Taylor dashed in. "Yes, sir."

Taylor's eyes flicked toward the cabinet in the corner, noting that the doors were closed securely. "Uh, this is my private office, detective. I'd appreciate it if you would come outside."

Fusco's eyes connected with Sutton's and he shrugged. "No problem."

Taylor closed the door behind them and turned to the two detectives. "Listen, if there aren't any more questions, I have to prepare for tomorrow night's service."

Detective Sutton shook his hand. "Thank you, Reverend Taylor. We'll contact you if we have any more questions."

The two detectives quickly left the church, heading for the unmarked Chevrolet parked at the curb. "Our Reverend Taylor is an interesting man of the cloth."

"What makes you say that?"

"He's got a friend in the cabinet. A realistic rubber doll."

"A

doll

?"

"Not just any doll. A

sex

doll." Fusco fished a plastic bag out of his pocket. "With a mouthful of cum, I might add."

"The reverend was fucking a doll when we knocked."

"Appears so." Fusco smiled. "What do you say we make a quick stop at the M.E.'s office?"