Sabrina’s Dream. (Chapter 5. I skipped chapter 4 cos only a little bit of sex in it)

It was 5am when Sabrina De Lacey was dropped off outside her trust fund purchased Chelsea townhouse. The sky was getting lighter but she still looked around her cautiously before unlocking her front door

There was five hours to spare before the morning debrief and her inevitable bollocking by Charles Aldenreich and the Director. Getting at least a couple of hours rest seemed like a good idea.

Since working for the group, Sabrina had become used to sleeping and working in shifts and could often catch a couple of hours of shuteye in at any time of day.

As a teenager she had always been a night owl, sneaking out of her dorm room at boarding school to attend parties and meet-ups until the early hours then catching up on catnaps during the lessons with the more lenient teachers when she knew she could get away with handing in another girl’s work.

She stripped off the low cut top and micro skirt which she had worn to the club and flopped into bed naked rolling under her satin bedding and tried to switch off her brain for a while and fall asleep.

The Frustrated Detective (part 2 of the story that started with The Girl in the club)

The frustrated detective.

“This is such fucking bullshit!”

Aoife St Claire’s pale skin flushed red as was unusual when she experienced intense emotion.

The day had started auspiciously, she had been assigned her first lead investigation as a newly promoted Detective Inspector in Homicide and had been feeling exhilaration and excitement.

This was going to be her big chance to prove herself as a detective and commanding officer, that she wasn’t just a token box ticking promotion to keep the HR department happy or merely a pretty face so that the tabloid editors would give more attention to Scotland Yard’s press conferences.

The case was going to make waves too.

James Fleet, a top city trader found dead in his penthouse apartment. Word was that his murder looked brutal, death by massive trauma to his neck and upper chest.

He’d been found on his bed in a state of undress by his cleaner who had called it in. Aoife had received the call from DCI Reynolds and headed straight to the scene, flashed her badge at the uniform in the lobby and headed up after donning the necessary scene of crime gear.

The girl in the club

James Fleet snapped his fingers at the barmaid and indicated another round of whiskey cokes for him and his friends. She smiled while muttering “arsehole” under her her breath, but he was tipping big so she got the drinks on the bar quicker than usual.

Fleet and his two friends had been drinking and snorting coke heavily since they had concluded a lucrative day of trading at their city firm Pierce and Pierce. Thirty pound cocktails at Fluties had kicked off the evening, they’d skipped dinner and hit a few trendy bars where they’d mixed with colleagues and rivals bragging and backslapping while necking imported lager, and now they were at McGregors; notorious meat market and pick up joint looking to finish the night either by bagging some pussy or in drunken oblivion.

Fleet took a big slurp of his drink and loosened his silk LaCroix tie as he scanned the busy dance floor. He was the alpha male of the trio; richer, posher and more highly rated in the form, so he generally got the first shot at any girls that caught their fancy.

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Categorized as Erotica Tagged