Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series (30 page)

Paris picked up at the infectious giggles and she took a swig at the wine as well her hand under her head, her hair falling like a dark waterfall. Francine took a similar position and thought again about the
neanderthal
at the club
.
She said, “That guy at the club, he
liked
you.” Paris leveled her bright blue eyes at her and they lit up from the inside as she smiled.

“I’m wasn't interested.” Paris said dismissively.

Francine took another swig of wine, “He wanted you to read him his rights!” and laughed tipsily. Paris laughed with her.

“Frannie,” Paris took the bottle back taking her own swig, “
Cops
do that, not lawyers!”

“Well, whatever it is that lawyers do! He wanted you to do it, girl!” She said, grabbing a pillow and laying her head on it. Frannie could so not hold her wine thought Pairs, putting the bottle a safer distance away and grabbing her own pillow. “He was cute! Why didn't you like him?”

“He was an off duty cop Frannie, couldn't you tell? A cop or some type of law enforcement, I can always tell.” Francine rolled her eyes in a “so what” attitude. Paris went on very self righteously, “Those cops away got something up their sleeves and besides I’m busy with work; and he was - aggressive.”

Francine sighed, she felt like someone’s poor sufferin’ mama sometimes who was never gonna see her baby get married, then she hiccupped. Paris rolled her eyes and shook her head, but Francine went on with her point,
hiccups be damned.
“You
like
aggressive.”

“I used to Frannie, It would be - distracting for me right now. Like I said, I just haven't met the
right
aggressive so let’s just drop it OK?”

“
Yeah
, aggressive men
can
be a pain in the butt.” said Francine turning inwardly contemplative.

“Oh no you don’t Missy, it’s not the same thing!” said Paris knowing Francine was thinking about Karl. “When I think about what could have happened if he hadn't been there, I would have lost my best friend.” Her blue eyes turned dark and forlorn.

"You didn't even know me then." Francine responded, but patted her hand reassuringly.

"Doesn't matter Frannie.” Then she added. “He's OK in my book." She said giving Francine a very serious look.
Oh no
, Francine thought, someone else ready for
Karl's anonymous,
and she hadn't even seen the man in years! Francine cast her eyes around the room, where had Paris put that bottle? She let out a sigh, giving up, what WAS it about this man? Laying her head down she gave herself up to the haze of tiredness, the drone of the television, the safety of friendship and went to sleep.

* * *

There was an angry buzzing shaking the bed, shaking Paris awake, WHAT WAS THAT? Finally, she realized, "Francine, your phone." She swatted at her friend, but to no avail, Francine moaned and mumbled something but didn't move. Nosy as hell and proud of it, Paris grabbed the phone in it’s little white case and narrowed her eyes at it in the dark.

A little green cloud revealed a text from Karl, a couple of texts from Karl. They were not
happy
texts. Their tone implied that there would only be more to come. They were all along the lines of:

WHERE ARE U?

Paris looked at frannie's peacefully sleeping form her arms tucked under her. Paris loved her rebelliousness, was one of the reasons they got along so great. However, a man who actually put a
tracking
device on someone was
not
to be trifled with- at least not to her.

Knowing she might of made a few tipsy typos (that could not be helped) she texted back.

She’s wif me-Paris.

The phone went quiet, the thought bubble came up with ellipses.

Can she come to the phone?

Text back-
Ware sleeping..

Quiet. More ellipses. Than,
OK
.

Paris pictured having the same conversation with an "aggressive" man of her own and was glad to put Francine's leash, ah
phone
back down on the nightstand next to the bed. While it was great to have someone, not having to deal with
that
, Paris wrapped herself back around her pillow, that was nice too.

Chapter 33

Francine picked up the phone looking over it’s many texts. It was sooo busy, thanks to
him.
She sighed. “He says he'll make breakfast if we come back.” Her index finger hovered with great single mindedness. “I'm gonna tell him
no
...” Paris came over and snatched the phone, again indulging in her penchant for nosiness.

 "Francine!" he says he'll make
German pancakes!
Good God girl!, I'll whip you myself! To the Batmobile!”

That’s how they ended up sitting outside, enjoying breakfast in the early morning sunlight on Francine’s deck. Karl had made good on his promise of German pancakes along with homemade mimosas served in Francine’s stemware. They were both delicious. She should have figured a man who could make great toddies could also make great mimosas.

That damn Paris was on cloud nine. “This is great!” She schmoozed between bites of what anyone could see she considered pure heaven. “Francine and I just usually go to The Pancake House after a night out.” The fork dived in eagerly again. “Can’t get great mimosas there huh Frannie?”

Karl gave an indulgent smile, “Well, Maybe you'll let me take you ladies there one Saturday morning. I know the place and it’s great too. They have a good soft-shell crab and eggs over easy dish I've been trying to perfect, maybe a couple more visits will help me get it right; if I don't find the company of two beautiful ladies too distracting.” Karl added, at his most charming.

Francine blushed looking down at her plate but Paris was just lapping it up - along with the damn pancake's.
Oh that was rich!
She was acting like someone had never paid her a compliment in her life. Traitor! Just when you thought you knew who your friends were!

“That sounds great! Right Frannie?” That word “great” again being thrown around while Paris still delicately stuffed her face. Francine just didn't get Paris, didn't she
see
how he was taking over? Trying to ignore them both Francine ate another mouthful and chewed. Karl’s cooking really
was
superb, and no point in letting good food go to waste, but Paris was
so
missing the point here.

There was a knock at the door. “I must Say Francine did describe you a little different. She just said - well lets just say, she made me glad I was a defense attorney...”

"Oh, will Francine be needing a lawyer?" Karl was all innocence, Paris took another big bite "not as long as you keep cooking like this." Paris said her expression reflecting pure heaven, Francine's broadcasted
pure traitor
. The knock at the door came more persistent and Karl excused himself to go answer it.

Paris looked up seeing Francine’s glacier expression. “What?”

“What was all that stuff about keeping my cookies in the jar, and all that?”

Paris looked exasperated, “Francine, these aren't cookies, they’re pancakes,
german
pancakes, and besides...” before they could finish two male voices approached from the house.

The male voices heard from far off got closer and walked onto the porch together both about the same height. Where as Karl had a build like a roman soldier the second man was built more like Tarzan with shorter dark blonde hair. He too was very good looking in a body builder type way, with a heavily muscled build encased in a button down shirt and slacks and slate gray, eyes which immediately surveyed his environment taking everything in before landing and remaining on Paris. “Ladies, this is my associate and friend Frank Edmond, from the FBI.”

Uh ho
thought Francine thinking about Paris’ aversion to law enforcement officers, but she was stuffing her face so hopefully
some
disaster would be diverted. “Ladies-” Frank nodded politely, they both nodded back.

Frank came over and took the free seat next to her. Karl went in the kitchen and returned with another plate of pancakes, crisp bacon and a mimosa, they all continued to eat. Frank was sneaking looks at Paris.
Oh boy,
that was probably a bad idea. To her credit Paris was trying to ignore him.

 Frank was in fact giving Paris a look that might of caused a girl with a little less grit to bend a little but Paris simply shrugged and returned to her breakfast. How she could ignore that predatory stare Francine had no idea. It was almost all hunger with a good dose of curiosity thrown in, but I guess when you looked like Paris you got a lot of practice. She had opted not to apply her make up that morning and her face looked fresh & clean. Her dark hair was clean and straight down her back with a cotton tank and jogging shorts thrown on for later.

“You look great.” Said Frank devouring Paris with his stare.
Awkward.

Paris rolled her eyes. “Well everyone, Frank and I do in fact know each other. Frannie, remember when I told you I had contacts with the FBI? Well Frank was the one who helped me set things up so that you could go down there and identify that awful man who snatched you.” She looked over at him. “He was one of the guys in charge of the investigation. Curious how he should show up here.” She went back to eating and Frank did the same.

“How have you been Francine?” Frank asked politely around a couple neat chews.

“Fine.” She said.

Things got quiet again. Frank dug right in occasionally still sneaking a looks up at Paris. After that conversation was a bit more limited. When she was finished Paris grabbed up her dishes along with Karl's who nodded his thanks to her and went inside. Seeing his chance Frank quickly took his last mouthfuls down and with barely a cursory glance to see if she was done he snatched Francine's almost empty plate from below her hovering fork making a beeline after Paris.

Karl thought the whole thing was hilarious. For a second Francine considered going after them, but then she remembered, this was about
pancakes
, not
cookies
. Let's see how Paris liked it- this constant “
persuel
”.

Setting down the now useless fork she crossed her arms over her chest in sweet revenge.

Paris’ skin was luminous and fresh in the morning without her makeup and with just a little bit of pricey lip gloss applied on her pink lips. Clear diamond studs peaked out from her straight glossy hair and the soft scent of Kenzo wafted over to him as her hair shifted slowly from side to side with her graceful movements causing an uncomfortable tightening in his trousers.

Following that sweet ass into the kitchen he asked “So how do you justify still making a living off of keeping bad guys off the street?"

“Well you guys down at the FBI just make it so easy for us, manufacturing evidence and all. I mean that” she used air quotes, “
case
you had against Williams? Please it all hinged on that photo. It was so over pixelated you could have been half blind and still could have seen it was photoshopped.” Paris rolled her eyes, I swear the way you guys plant evidence it's like your mamas dropped you on your heads too many times."

Not wanting to discuss a few bad apples in the department Frank quickly changed the subject. “What happened to your leg?” Paris had forgotten the slight blue bruise marring her smooth skin, but he noticed. Sometimes they sparred at the same gym and he always noticed things. Something small like that, he paid attention, inside she shivered under his direct gaze, feeling trapped, his eyes they were like a laser as they scanned her for other injuries before returning to her blue eyes.

“Paris,” he repeated, how did you get the bruise?”

 "Fell wrong in the dojo." she felt herself responding. If she let him, what else would he see? All of a sudden she flushed with embarrassment, like a self defense mechanism kicking in, her eyes regained focus. "Was still smart enough not to fall on my head. Then I might have to settle for a job at the FBI." She quipped before walking away.

She went to the front door and grabbed the knob him hot on her heels. She turned to look back at him. “Funny you showing up here to visit your
friend, Special
Agent. One thing I know, that girl has been through hell and if I find out you and the fucking FBI could have done anything to prevent it I'll strap on a great big dildo, drag your sorry asses into court and legally fuck you all myself." She pointed in Karl’s direction. "Starting with him. Hope that's clear enough for you boys."

Frank let a pulse or two pass before casually crossing his arms over his massive chest and leaning against the door frame letting his eyes rake over Paris’ frame one more time with his hot gaze. “Oh yeah, it’s clear. Sounds like
one
of us is gonna have a
nice
ride.”