Page 27 of Frosty Felicity
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted.”
“I tend to think a combination of both, like a perfectly mixed drink, is usually best in these situations.”
“Well, aren’t you classy!” he teased, then burst out laughing as he ran his hand up and down her ankle, gently massaging it.
She playfully batted her lashes.
“Why yes, my belches are world renowned. You have been given the privilege of hearing one, Brett. You’re welcome, peasant. Now, fetch me some adoration and praise.”
“You’re so generous, my dear, fair lady. I’m a mere peasant, not worthy of thy presence, and you’ve bestowed the rancid smell of an onion-infused meat sandwich upon my home! What a blessed day! How can I ever repay you?”
Now, they were both cracking up.
DAMN HIM. He gets my sense of humor and slides right in to participate like a champ! This must be my one true lust! He wants to get into me pantaloons! I will be fucking this glorious man of the law before the midnight hour!
“You’ll have to excuse me, your majesty. If I wasn’t already getting prank calls from someone farting on my phone, I’d probably appreciate your belch more.” He chuckled. “It’s been going on forever. Between you and I, Felicity, I honestly would like to get my hands on whoever it is and beat the living shit out of them.”
“Someone is playing on your phone, huh? Making flatulence noises… That’s personal.” She slurped on the straw, nothing much more coming out of the cup, but she was no quitter, then glanced back at the television.
“Personal?” He repeated the word as if not understanding the meaning.
“Yeah. I’m sure you know this. You’d have to know this.” She stared at him in disbelief. “See, if someone keeps doing something like that, it’s less likely to be random. It’s a pattern now. Planned.”
“Yeah, I figured that, but I just don’t know who it is.” He shrugged. “It could be a hundred different people. The suspect list is long.”
“But from my understanding, you’re a great cop. In fact, I noticed you’ve received a few awards, and people seem to like you.”
“Yeah, well, I have arrested my share of people, Felicity, so that makes me a target right there.” He lazily tossed up his hands, then glanced back at the television.
“They either know of you, or know you personally. One or two prank calls are usually from a stranger. When it becomes repetitive, and it’s deliberate and timely, it’s—”
“Personal. Yeah, I understand that.” He appeared thoughtful for a while, absently rubbing her leg up and down.
“They’re farting. That’s a way to humiliate you. Demoralize you. Put you down. To say, ‘You are beneath me. You deserve nothing but filth and stench and I get to benefit from it by laughing, or simply knowing that you are frustrated and tired of the calls.’ Even if it’s fake flatulence, Brett, them just doing it with their mouth, or some app or noise machine, still packs the same punch. Their mission is accomplished.”
“This is all tied into your sleuth shit, right?”
She bit her lower lip, then smiled smugly. “Yes, it is.”
“You wanna be me so damn bad.” He grinned, then bit his lower lip, and her nether regions trembled. The pussy shivered and cuddled itself, wishing so desperately and deeply that a nice, long, fat friend would slide her way.
I wonder if we can use his handcuffs? Well, we should be able to. Isn’t this cuffing season?
“I don’t want to be you. I want the best parts of your job, sir, and then leave the rest to you. I’ll let you get dirty, while I sit back and simply supervise and advise. In no way, shape, or form am I cut out to chase down lunatics, go toe-to-toe with meth users, and put my life in jeopardy during a bank robbery. That’s not even my money. I am not a big fan of donuts, lawsuits, racial discrimination claims, and sexism in the workplace, either. I don’t want any parts of hard labor, helping people who are pieces of shit, or being a public servant. I much prefer to be a sloth-like sleuth, you see? Sitting there from the comfort of my couch or wherever I am perched, dissecting unsolved crimes, making the world a safer place one Google search and chat room at a time, all while quietly judging everyone in law enforcement who didn’t beat me to the punch. You disgust me…”
“You’re sexy, and definitely crazy, Felicity.”
“Why, thank you. I mean it. It’s refreshing to finally be understood.”
“See,” he tittered, “it’s either you’re involved with someone, or out of your mind, just like I said on our first date. Beautiful women like you aren’t single for no reason. You’re really ridiculous. The scary thing about you is that you know exactly what you’re doing, how you come across, and how it sounds, and yet, you continue on. You’re trouble.” He shook his finger at her.
“Oh, dear no! I don’t like trouble of any sort.”
“Lies. You’re definitely a mischief maker. Hey, that reminds me: I’m giving away toys at a donation drive next week. I’ll be dressed up as Santa. Want to come?”
“Ugh! A Christmas event!” She threw herself against the couch and clutched herself. Drama on overload.
“Oh, come on, Felicity! I thought all that crazy stuff you were saying about Christmas being awful was just a joke. You being silly.”
