Euphony, you bring up a lot of good points. That being said, it's not like I can't write the story, it's more like have no time. And I was able to find a co-author for the first installment, through PM's too, mind you
But then again, I may not be as lucky.
To make things less complicated, I'm just going to paste the entire story right here (provided that's not a rule-breaker). Credit goes to myself and the other writer, alias "Exodus". This way, people can see for themselves what I'm asking for here.
Tess Tracy set down her groceries on the small chair next to her porch, reaching into her pocket for the keys. The sun was shining outside, and the air was filled with the smell of freshly mown grass, but her own thoughts were a world away as she pushed open the door with one elegant hip, reaching down to grab her bags and prop them against her shoulders. She walked into the kitchen, setting the groceries down on the table, and looked over at the dishes neatly stacked on the counter. Her own plate and Joe's were stacked on top of each other; she'd made her son bacon and eggs this morning, which he had wolfed down with typical speed. Beside them were two glasses and a mug of half-finished coffee, abandoned before it was done.
The coffee was Dick's, of course. Dick Tracy was absolute hell against criminals, but his work didn't leave much time for little things like breakfast with the family. It was a rare morning in which he wasn't racing out the door with a quick peck on her cheek, and then stumbling in late at night after a case went long. She chuckled wryly, crossing over to the sink and emptying the mug. At least she knew he would never have an affair on her. When would he find the time?
Finishing up the dishes, Tess crossed the hall to the main floor bathroom, flicking on the light and considering her reflection as she carefully touched up her makeup. She tried not to be vain, but she knew that she was a very attractive lady, and took a certain amount of pleasure in keeping herself that way. Most women had picked up their share of wrinkles by the time they reached their mid-thirties, but Tess looked exactly the same as she had ten years earlier – not a blemish, not a grey hair among her blonde curls, no creases in her brow. Her breasts were still full, and her hips had survived childbirth without stretching. As she carefully washed and put on a new, thin layer of red lipstick, Tess looked at her reflection and sighed softly. Dick didn't love her because she was beautiful; if he came home to find her with a burlap sack over her head, he would probably just give her a peck on the cheek and ask what was for dinner. When she'd married him, it was one of the things she'd loved about him. Now, though, there were times when she wished he would pay more attention to her body, and less to his work.
Finishing up, she nodded, practised a coquettish smile in the mirror, and then opened the bathroom door. To her surprise, she came face-to-barrel with a gun. “Afternoon, ma'am,” said the man at the other end of it. “You're not going to yell, I hope.”
For a moment, Tess simply stared at the young man in front of her. He was balding, his hair pulling away from his massive, furrowed forehead. Two beady eyes stared at her underneath the layers of his brow, and his hand held the small, deadly pistol steadily, without hesitation. Looking into his eyes, Tess saw hints of sadness, but also firm resolve. She had no doubts that he would fire. “You... you're the Brow's son.”
“You know me,” the Son said with a curt nod. “Good. Keeps things simple.”
“How did you find my house?” Tess asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Think I'm not smart enough to track a cop?” the Son answered. “I was smart enough to trick you.” His voice rose, becoming less masculine. “Excuse me, ma'am, is your husband home?”
For a moment, Tess could only stare at him in confusion, before the tone brought the memory back. The call, earlier in the morning. A young man from a local Crimestopper's Club, wanting to speak with Dick. She'd told him... she told him that Dick would be home from work at 6. The Son smirked at her expression. “For a cop's wife, you're not too bright,” he said smugly. “Didn't even lock the door behind you when you came home. Now come on.” He waved with the gun, taking a step back. “Let's head upstairs.”
Tess nodded, stepping out in front of him. As she did, she could feel her dress riding up her thigh, and she spared a moment wishing that she hadn't dressed up quite so much just to do the groceries. The dress left her shoulders and arms bare, and didn't even reach her knees; she almost tried to smooth it back down before deciding not to give the villain the pleasure. “What do you want with me?” she asked.
“I don't want nuttin' with you,” the Son replied, as the two walked towards the stairs. “I want your husband. Tracy killed my girl, Miss Trueheart. He killed Angeltop Jones, and I aim to kill him right back.” As Tess stumbled to a halt, he pressed the gun into the small of her back. “Honey, you want to keep moving. I don't want to hurt you, but I know your kid is coming home in a couple hours, and I only need one hostage.”
“You leave him alone!” Tess snapped, glaring over her shoulder. For a moment, he just stared at her, caught off-guard by the fire in her eyes. He’d expected a shrinking violet, the mild dame he’d seen once or twice in the papers clinging to her man’s arm. This was a different kind of woman. “Dick was only doing his job! He didn't mean for anyone to die.”
As Tess finished talking, Brow recovered and prodded her with his pistol. “Yeah, life's hard that way.” The Son stopped at the base of the staircase, letting Tess take several steps before starting up after her. As he did, he watched her hips sway as she walked up the stairs, her dress sliding with every step, and he swallowed heavily. “But I got nuttin' left. Tracy took my life from me. Taking his is the only way to make it fair.” He stared at her grimly. “You should be glad, honey. I could be killing you and your boy and leaving you for him to find. Instead, I'm gonna finish Tracy, and then it's done. You stay quiet, and you and your kid can get out of this safe. You cause trouble...” He trailed off ominously. “I don't like hurting women and kids, but I can make an exception.”
Tess, momentarily out of words, clenched the banister as she walked up the stairs. Behind her, the Son considered what he’d just said. As the two reached the upstairs hallway, Tess turned to face the Son, glancing down nervously at his gun as she looked into his eyes. “Please,” she said softly. “You don't have to do this.”
For a moment, the two stood facing each other, Tess trembling, the Son considering. He glanced at the smooth skin of her shoulders, the ringlets of hair falling across the edges of her face, and the smooth, hairless skin of her legs. For a moment, he thought back to his dead girl, Angeltop. She'd meant everything to him, even if he hadn't meant as much to her, and since her death, there hadn't been a girl who could come close to replacing her. He hadn't so much as glanced at one since the day he'd lost her. Somehow, though, seeing Tess's clear love for her husband lit a tiny spark in the ashes of his heart. Beyond her blonde hair, Tess was nothing like his lost love – Angeltop's beauty had been a sham, hiding the disdain she felt towards the world, whereas Tess's attractiveness was genuine, soft and almost painfully honest – but the comparison stuck in his mind. If he'd been able to help Angeltop become more accepting, if he hadn't given up on turning her away from revenge, she might still be alive, and he might have had a chance to be happy.
But Brow hadn't been enough for Angeltop. She had needed her revenge, as well, and now she was gone. Tracy had taken his girl, and Brow needed to take... his thoughts dissolved into a tangle as a thought struck him. It was all about balance. “Maybe I don't,” he said slowly, looking Tess up and down. His grim expression began to fade, as a new path opened in front of him. “Maybe we can work something else out.”
Tess looked at his leering eyes, and felt something in her stomach turn over. “Such as?” she asked.
The Son stepped forwards, raising a hand towards her head, and then let it fall back quickly. “Justice,” he growled. “Tracy took my woman. I take you, and we're even.”
“Take me,” Tess repeated blankly. “You mean... you want to sleep with me?”
The Brow's Son laughed scornfully. “I want to fuck you,” he said. “But you say no, I leave you alone. Won't touch you. Your cunt, or your husband's head, the choice is up to you. Either way, I'm even.”
Tess swallowed heavily, looking at the brute across from her. In all the years she’d spent getting tangled in Dick’s life, this had never happened. She considered him for several seconds, looking at his rough skin and braided muscles, weighing her options. She'd been in tough scrapes before, and so had Dick. Maybe she could delay him, find a way to get word to Joe, and for Joe to get word to Dick.
The Son saw her expression, and shook his head. “Don't start thinking you can slip out of this, Trueheart. I know your routine, and your kid's. If you decide to go ahead with this, you actually gotta go ahead with it. You're not going to slip out of it, you get it?”
“There's another way,” Tess said with a shake of her head. She glanced towards her bedroom, and then back to the Brow, feeling desperation setting in. “You can leave. Don't ruin your life like this. Dick's fought people before, and it always ends the same way.”
“What, with me under arrest? Or dead?” The Brow's Son shook his head grimly. “Not this time, honey. I know what I'm doing. With his wife and son on the line, he's not going to fight me. And if he does, and somehow manages to take me down?” He shook his head. “I know where you live. I know everything about you, and I will use it. I will trade it, sell it to the highest bidder. I will make sure that every crook, every person that Tracy ever hurt, all of them know everything about you.”
Tess's face fell. “You wouldn't,” she whispered. “Please.”
The Son's face was like stone as he watched her. “Your choice,” he repeated. “You, or him. But you'd better decide soon, because I haven't got all day.”
Tess closed her eyes, despairing at the terrible choice that Brow had forced upon her. In the back of her mind, she knew his threats were very real. Her entire family would be endangered if he talked. If she complied with his wish, at least they’d be safe.
The morals Tess had lived her life by screamed at her to refuse the offer. Giving into the Son meant giving up her pride and dignity as a woman. She would be giving him something that was not his -something she could not take back. And God, if Dick were to ever find out - what would he think of her, letting another man know her body, even if it was to save his life? And yet...
“If I don't cause trouble, Dick will be safe? You promise?" she whispered.
"I'm no liar. You got my word," the Son said. He began to smile, seeing her resistance slowly crumbling. He could hardly believe it. His mind raced; would she actually do this for her husband? "What's your decision?"
Tess felt tears welling in her eyes. She looked at the Brow, back to the bedroom, and swallowed heavily. “Alright,” she said softly. “For Dick.”
“Mine for him,” the Son said with the hint of a smirk. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Now get moving.”
Tess led the way into her modest bedroom, and the Son closed the door firmly behind him. He looked around, nodding at the room's homely interior. It was furnished with only the simple necessities: a table in the corner, a dresser and a closet, a queen-sized bed sitting prettily between two nightstands. The room's homeliness, however, gave it an intimate, sacred feel; he smiled at the irony.. “Nice place you got here, Ms. T,” he said. “Very suburban. Now, off with the dress.”
Tess blushed fiercely as she nodded, reaching behind her to pull the zipper on her dress off. She could feel her captor's eyes devouring her as she turned away from him, the dress slowly falling down to reveal the curve of her back. He swallowed once, gun wavering for a moment in his hand, and he felt himself getting hard as he looked at her. Tess's curls were hanging just around her shoulders. For a fraction of a second, the Brow's Son thought back to the last time he'd seen a woman undressing for him, his beloved Angeltop. But her hair had been false – a wig, purchased to cover the heavy, flat head she had inherited from her father. Tess's was real, full and beautiful. As the dress pooled to the floor around her, the Son couldn't help but draw other comparisons. Angeltop had been skinny, shapely enough in her own way, but with small hips and a bony rear. She'd been a hard woman, domineering and sometimes even harsh, and he'd loved her sometimes for and sometimes despite it.
There was nothing hard or harsh about Tess Trueheart. Her body was smooth and soft, large-hipped and large-breasted, her ass jiggling slightly as she kneeled to step out of her dress and leave it on the ground behind her. Underneath, she was wearing plain, serviceable underwear, white and large, almost disappointing on a body like hers. Brow reflected that Tess would have been better served in the black and red laces that Angeltop had loved, and which had never quite matched her. Beauty like that should be on display. “Beautiful,” he said softly, and then grunted and gestured with the gun. “Your husband's a lucky guy, coming home to that every night. Bet you go at it like rabbits.”
Tess looked away, her blush spreading down her neck to the top of her breasts. “I'd rather not discuss that right now,” she mumbled. “What Dick and I have is none of your business.”
Brow's eyes narrowed, but then he shrugged and grinned. “Sure thing, honey. I'd rather get to it myself. Your bra and panties.”
Tess nodded, her blush intensifying, as she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, then shrugged out of it. For a moment, she stood in front of him, somewhere between acceptance and defiance, as he studied her breasts. Large, round, and firm, they bounced slightly as she took a deep breath and reached down to pull down her panties. Underneath, her mound was trimmed but not shaven, a small patch of hair now her only cover against him as he took her in. “Nice,” he muttered, setting his gun down on the table next to him. He wasn't going to be able to hold it while he fucked her, and he was pretty sure that she wasn't about to get away from him; his earlier threats would be enough to keep her here. “Guess it's my turn.” Tess didn't deign to answer. She stood, shivering slightly as she watched the criminal matter-of-factly strip his shirt off and toss it to one side.
Brow then turned towards her, undoing his belt and pants. “Take a good look at this, Mrs. Tracy,” he jeered, “See if your husband measures up.” He drew down his pants and boxers, freeing his aching erection into the air. Tess's air of disinterest vanished, and she gasped as her eyes suddenly beheld seven inches of hard cock, not lacking at all in girth. Veins bulged down the length of his shaft, precum already glistening from the bulbous head in anticipation. His balls hung loosely below, packed with the semen he intended to squirt deep into the crime fighter’s wife. His entire pelvic area was entirely devoid of hair.
“Like it? I always kept it shaved for Angeltop, and the habit stuck,” Brow laughed, “This baby here is a sight to look at, isn’t it? How about it, is your husband bigger than me?” He bent his shaft back and let go, letting it bounce in front of Tess.
Tess found herself unable to speak. Even if she could, she wouldn’t have been able to lie; that monster was way bigger than Dick’s. Seeing her silence, Brow chuckled. “Damn, so you’ve had to settle for less all these years. Well Mrs. Tracy, today’s the day you get to feel a real cock in your pussy.” He kicked off his pants and boxers, shedding the last of his clothes.
They both stood naked in the middle of the room, Tess looking down while Brow gazed over her body once more. He swallowed, his mind ecstatically taking in the situation. He was actually going to do it. He was about to fuck the gorgeous wife of Dick Tracy, in Tracy's own bedroom. He was in a position that many other criminals Tracy put away could only dream about. Now, he was about to surpass all others before him.
He stepped around her back, reaching around her to grab one of her breasts. Tess closed her eyes, fists clenching as Brow’s hand ran roughly over the surface of her perfect breasts. He marvelled at how smooth and firm they were, as lovely up close as they had been from a distance. Other criminals would have given all their henchman to have a chance like this, to do what he was doing. Other than Dick fucking Tracy himself, the Brow’s Son was the first man to touch Tess Tracy's body, his fingers pinching her nipple, to watch it slowly stiffen under the slight pressure of his fingers. Tess looked away, biting her lip as Brow's finger and thumb twirled slow circles around the base of her aureola. “Nice ones,” he mused openly, cupping her breast with one hand and comparing it to Angeltop's. Once again, his old girlfriend came up short – or in this case, small.
He felt goosebumps on her skin as she shivered at his touch, and smiled. For most of his life, Brow had been alone. His massive, wrinkled forehead, his father's cruel reputation, and his own uncertainty had made him the target of derision and scorn from women, never of love. Only a few girls had ever fallen for him, always with pity or desperation hiding in their eyes, always the plainest girls, and even they had been few and far between. In fact, in all of his life only Angeltop had looked on him with anything approaching genuine affection, and she'd been in the same boat as him, unloved and unwanted. And yet here he was, in the bedroom with a woman more beautiful than anything his fantasies had ever offered, touching her, pleasing her, and soon to be knowing her. Her being his enemy's wife was only a bonus.
“You seem a little conflicted,” he whispered over her shoulder, into her ear, his breath hot against her skin, matching the heat filling her breasts as he teased her. Tracy gasped slightly as his hand dropped down, rubbing her thigh, and inched upwards towards her inviting lower lips. His fingers brushed over the edge of her, sending electrical shivers down her spine, and she let out a very soft gasp, her body shrinking away from his touch. Doing so, however, only brought her tightly against him, and he laughed, his breath hot on her ear as he leaned down towards her. One of his hands continued to toy with her breasts, enjoying her attempts to remain stoic with his fingers running lightly across her nipples, and the other rubbed her pussy gently, with only a trace of urgency. Tess closed her eyes, face flushing, as he reached up to her, his fingers glistening with droplets like dew, running them along her lip. “Looks like you're about ready for me,” he said, soft as a lover. Tess swallowed heavy, wanting to deny the heat his hands were bringing to her, but unable to find the words.
“Well,” the Brow said slowly, “I guess it's time to start.” While he had been preparing her, the Son had also been musing, and now he decided to take Tess from behind first. It was his favourite position; it asserted his dominance. For Tracy’s wife, it fit nicely. He spied a table in the corner of the room. Perfect.
“All right, now go on over to that table over there. Bend down and put your hands on the edge.” Tess brought her head up, and for a brief second, a last bit of resistance flashed in her blue eyes. And then they dulled again, and she silently turned and walked towards the table. Brow watched her every step of the way, time seeming to slow as her hips swayed from side to side.
Tess placed her hands on the edge of the table. She bent down until her breasts brushed the top of the table, shivering as the hard wood touched her nipples. She wished for anything to get her out of this. She wished she had stayed at the restaurant longer. She wished she hadn’t left the door unlocked. She wished that Dick was here. Most of all, she wanted to wish away the arousal racing through her body - and the anticipation slowly creeping into her mind.
Behind her, she heard the slow padding of Brow's feet across the carpet, coming closer and closer till they stopped right behind her. She felt his rough hands palm her ass, enjoying their heft before sliding up to her hips. She gasped as she felt his shaft touch down on her asscheeks, pulsing in anticipation. Her knees almost felt weak as Brow guided himself down her firm backside, and then back up between her legs. He lined up his rock hard cock against the opening of Tess's pussy; a soft sound escaped her mouth as the mushroomed head touched her entrance.
For his part, Brow almost couldn't hold back as he ran his hands over Tess's ass and thighs. “Nice snatch,” he said, leaning over her as his member played around the edges of her crotch, teasing her with its presence and hinting about its intentions before he would pull back again. “Looks like you got it ready for me, huh? Maybe this wasn't such a hard decision for you after all.”
“I don't have to talk to you,” Tess said with what little composure remained to her.
“Naw, but you might want to, huh?” The Son took a deep breath. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman. After Angeltop had died, he'd lost his appetites for months, and had only just started thinking about it again. And what a woman to start with. Throwing caution to the wind, he closed his hands around Tess's hips and thrust into her, grinning at her sudden gasp. “Feel free to say whatever you like, honey. You're not going to be able to keep quiet with me at the reins.”
“You monster,” Tess said in a long hiss, her hands clutching the edge of the table as he slowly and purposefully pushed in and out. She shuddered, feeling him fill her, and shook her head. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
“What I am is what your husband made me,” Brow shot back, slowly pumping in and out of her. He leaned over, his mouth near her ear, and whispered. “And what you are is what he made you too, huh? You ever been with another man?”
“No,” she said with a squeak, as his latest thrust pushed farther into her than anything she had experienced. Dick had been her first, her only. She'd thought it was heaven, those moments of bliss. Nothing had prepared her for this. “What kind of woman do you think I am?”
“The hungry kind,” Brow laughed, looking down. “You're just swallowing up my cock, aren'tcha? Maybe I should have come here before.”
Tess felt tears forming in her eyes, and she answered with a soft moan, bubbling out from between her teeth before she could hold it back. The Son grinned, and his thrust began to pick up in speed. He grunted, feeling his own pleasure building, and Tess gasped as she felt him beginning to pound her, slowly mounting in pressure and force. She moaned again, and Brow grunted in response. Her breasts were sliding up and down across the smooth wood of the table, and she felt her vision blur under the waves of pleasure radiating up from her mound. She tried to banish it, thinking about Dick, thinking about Joe, thinking about her duty and her job. This was a price to pay for their safety, and she would not enjoy it.
But then Brow increased his pace with a grunt of effort and she felt her resolve wash under in a rush of pheromones. Small moans continued to escape her mouth as he reamed her, thumping her backside, making the globes of her arse wobble with the impacts, his balls slapping violently against the backs of her thighs. His hard shaft ran its full length in and out of her wet sex, dragging her lips back and forth and exciting her clitoris.
Brow felt Tess responding underneath him, and his grin widened. When he'd come here, ready to kill Tracy or die trying, he'd never imagined that it would lead to this. Tess was submissive, completely under his control, like no one had been for as long as he could remember. He could feel her wriggling around him, trying to deny what was coming, and her crumbling resistance was almost as arousing as the tightness of her pussy, pressing hard against his engorged member. It had been so long, he was having a hard time holding back, but he gritted his teeth and waited. This was amazing, but he thought it might be better. Just a few more seconds, and then...
The Son exploded inside her, and Tess's body surged in response. Something deep inside her exploded, sending a chain reaction of rapture sweeping through her body. Hot pleasure flooded from her centre like an invisible flame, her whole body jerking uncontrollably. She could feel her innermost walls shuddering, tightening, contracting around the iron-hard member still straining inside her...it was too much to bear. A satisfied cry slipped out of her before she could stop it as his seed filled her. As he pulled out, she lay against the table, shocked by what she had just done. It had been so long since she’d felt this way, but to let a man like this be the one to make her feel it...
For his part, Brow was breathing heavily, hands on the table on either side of her as he gathered his wits. It had been better than he could have imagined. Tess Tracy, the purehearted, oh-so-innocent wife of the city's best lawmen, and he hadn't just fucked her, no, he'd made her enjoy it. She'd practically been begging for more by the end, something he never could have imagined when this had started. One of his hands ran up to her breasts, two fingers lightly rubbing over her nipples. “Ooh, I could use these to cut glass,” he whispered in her ear. “You really getting into this? Maybe that's why you left the door unlocked, huh? Maybe you were wearing that dress for me, or someone like me, just hoping deep down that this would happen?”
“No,” Tess muttered, shaking her head and breathing heavily, feeling his coarse fingers running over her. “I just... I like that dress.”
“Sure ya do,” Brow laughed again, and pulled Tess to her feet. Weak, legs shaking, she offered no resistance. He began walking towards the bed, pushing her just ahead of her as he continued to play with her breasts, marvelling at how large they were. He gestured to the covers. “Pull that quilt off, Tess. You don't want it getting all messy.”
As Tess bent over to take the quilt, he reached down and pinched her ass, and she squealed and straightened abruptly. Then, with an angry glance over her shoulder, she finished the job, leaving the quilt pooled on the floor. The Son gave her another push, this one gentle, and she responded by crawling onto the bed, lying on her back and looking up at him uncertainly.
Brow spent a moment just looking at her, as she watched him back. The rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed heavily was almost hypnotizing, and a thin layer of sweat now coated her body. A hint of wetness glistened on the sheets between her legs, and he smiled as he ran two thin fingers over her cunt. “This how Dick does it, honey? He climb onto you like your man, nice and normal-like? Or does he like it a little more kinky? Maybe he handcuffs you, huh?” Tess gritted her teeth, and Brow chuckled. “And maybe it's none of my business, right?”
“Maybe not,” Tess said.
“That's fine. I don't mind following in his footsteps. Sort of my thing, you know, doing what other people did first.” The Brow's Son put a knee on either side of her, lowering down on top of her and feeling her breasts squish slightly against his muscular chest. Below, his bulb began to tease around her edge again. One hand pressed into the pillow, and he whispered to her. “But maybe you'd like to be the one on top.”
“Do what you want,” Tess said, closing her eyes. A moment later, she opened them with a gasp as Brow's lips closed over her left breast, sucking insistently. She gasped, rocking underneath him, as he shifted from one breast to the other, pulling lightly and running his tongue over her nipples, then giving her the tiniest nips possible. Her hands reached back, taking handfuls of sheets, and she let out a long moan.
The Son smiled around her breast, slowly sliding himself up her neck as he continued his sensual assault. His thrusts were slow and smooth, and he felt her breath fluttering over his forehead as he tasted her sweat, her body shuddering underneath him. He could feel her slowly losing control, her passion betraying her, and his own body responded in kind, crushing her against him as his thrusts became more urgent. He reached out and pulled, and for a moment the two were entwined next to each other, legs wrapped and Brow's lips running up Tess's neck. Then, as he had suggested, she was above him, his arms wrapped around her back to pull her tightly against him, her breasts sliding up and down his smooth, lightly scarred chest, his own nipples now drawing lines up and down her breasts, every one of his thrusts more forceful than the last.
It was like nothing Tess had ever felt. Her body was on fire, every nerve screaming for release, crying out to her partner not to stop. Her moans filled the room, more and more urgent, as her partner's cock slid through her, in tune with her own desires, with the waves of pleasure running up and down her body. She could barely think, couldn't focus past the desire that was filling her, feeling his heat against her and hearing his own increasingly violent grunts as he held himself back, waiting for the moment when she would give way above him.
And then it came, all of the pleasure rushing to a single point, a single moment of bliss as she orgasmed explosively above him. Under her, she felt him give way, sending gouts of sperm spraying into her, and his mouth met hers in a hungry kiss, absorbing her cry. Her tongue met his, devouring his pleasure even as he devoured hers, and for a moment it was as if the two of them were a single being.
And then the moment passed, and she fell to one side, collapsing on the bed next to him, nerves on fire with post-coital bliss. She looked over, and for a fraction of a second imagined that it was Dick lying next to her, sharing this joy like she had never felt.
And then the moment passed, and there was only the furrowed brow, the rough face oddly peaceful as he looked at her. Her smile faded to nothing, and she felt shame warring with the joy.
“You're some dame,” the Brow's Son said softly, reaching over and wiping a tear away. He sat up, looking around the room, back to her, and he smiled wryly. “Your husband really is a lucky guy.”
“Now what?” Tess said softly, sitting up to look at him.
“Now... now I’m done.” Brow stood slowly, still not looking back at her. He grabbed a tissue and wiped the last of the cum from his member, then tossed it into the small garbage can next to the bed and walked over to his clothes. “Now you clean up, and your hubby never knows how you saved his life.” He finally glanced over his shoulder at him. “Or maybe you tell him. I dunno, that part's up to you.”
“And you?” Tess finally managed to ask, watching him slip into his clothes, turning from the man in her bed to the criminal that had attacked her again.
The Brow's Son shrugged, tucking his gun back into his coat pocket. Instead of answering immediately, he just looked at her. “It's kind of funny, you know. I never wanted to hurt Tracy, not at first. That was Angeltop's game, and I just wanted her to be happy. But then she was gone, and I didn’t want to let her go.” He walked towards the bedroom door, pausing with a hand on the handle. “But she ain't coming back, so I guess I’m gonna go too.” He finally glanced over his shoulder, to Tess sitting on the bed. One hand flicked into his coat, and tossed a small card onto the side table by the door. “Little present, honey, since you did such a good job protecting your man.” Tess stared at the card as if it was a venomous snake, and Brow chuckled bitterly. “That's got my number on it, where I'm stayin' these days. You tell your husband about today, he can come and arrest me. I'll go quiet. You think it's better to keep quiet, you just throw that card out, and I won't tell a soul. Take it to my grave.”
Tess frowned at him, hearing the slight hitch at the end of his words. “Or?” she asked softly.
Brow hesitated again, then shrugged. “Or you give me a call some time. Maybe I apologize for treating you so rough.” He smiled wryly. “Maybe not. Rough is the only way I know, sometimes.” He opened the door, pulling on his hat. “But could be it’s time for a change. Guess we’ll see.”
The door shut behind him with a click. He leaned against it, thinking about how easy it would be to run back in there and take her again, be there when Tracy got home to throw it in his face. Be the man that took Dick Tracy’s wife, be someone no one else had been. Surpass his father, his old flame, everyone he'd ever known. He'd be a legend. Probably a dead legend, once Tracy got through with him, but a legend.
Shaking his head, he buttoned up his coat and walked down the stairs. It would be sweet, but he didn’t need anyone else to know. He knew, and somehow, for a change, that was all that mattered.
* * *
Tess sat at the table, looking at the clock. Another late night, the hours draining away. Dick had come home to a cleaned house, new sheets, and a wife trying not to tremble. He'd assumed she was afraid for him because of his latest case, and she hadn't contradicted him. And so it had been another short evening, another day alone. Time moved on.
She hadn't told Dick any of it, hadn't wanted to, but there was a small part of her furious that he hadn't figured it out on his own. The world's greatest police officer, and he hadn't noticed a crime that had taken place in his house, practically under his nose. A few days later, he'd mentioned absently that he'd heard the Brow's Son was in town, and that he'd have to keep an eye on him in case he caused trouble. Tess had bitten back a harsh laugh, wondering why the Son was sticking around. He couldn't be waiting for her call. He couldn't imagine that she'd done anything but thrown his card away, put him out of her life, forgotten the night he had destroyed her, forced her to feel pleasure at his degradations.
She wondered if he regretted what he'd done, or if he'd already started gloating to his friends. But no – if Brow had told anyone, word would have spread. It was too good a story to pass up, and it would ruin her life in a heartbeat if it spread. Every crook in the city would love to hear how Dick Tracy had been cuckolded, how he'd been beaten. But the Son hadn't told anyone. He'd stayed true to his word, protected her from the disgrace he'd brought to her, and Dick was none the wiser.
Tonight, dinner was cooling on the stove. He was late, out saving the world. Her husband, the man who could stop any crime, save anyone. The man who was there for everyone, all the time.
She reached into the drawer where she kept her cookbooks, took one of them, and slid the business card that the Brow's Son had given her out of the book's jacket. Time was slowly running out. For several seconds, she just looked at it. She imagined him, still in his rented hotel, alone. Waiting, and wondering. Maybe, tonight, he would leave. Maybe he already had.
But maybe he was still waiting. The one person in the city who knew what she was feeling right now. She imagined him running his hands over her body again, telling her how beautiful she was. She remembered the sensation as he'd fucked her, in tune with her needs and giving her what she hadn't even realized she'd wanted until she'd gotten it. She had always believed that her physical needs were secondary, but now that the floodgates were opened, she couldn't help but compare what the Brow had done to what she'd had with her husband for years, and Dick came up short. She saw the years stretching ahead of her, and wondered if it would be so wrong to spend a few nights with a man who would appreciate her, even if only for her body.
She tucked the card back into the jacket, returned it to its shelf, and went upstairs to bed.