The Break Down

The Break Down

A work of fiction
By Nikki

The October night was inky black, made even more so by the solid curtain of clouds that covered the Oregon sky and the heavy rain that had been falling from them and beating against the windshield for hours now as I drove west down I 84. It wouldn't be long now, only another 30 to 40 minutes and I would be driving into my garage at Errol Heights. My son had drifted off to sleep some time ago, safely strapped into his car seat surrounded with all his favorite toys so all I had to distract me was the FM radio that I had finally found a decent station on.

I was drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, listening to "dock of the bay" when the steering wheel almost pulled from my grasp and a huge Ka-bang resounded through the little mini-van. Weaving dangerously close to the guardrail, I finally got the little beast slowed down and under control just as the green sign announcing that the Troutdale exit was one mile ahead. From the racket coming from the right front of my little dodge, I knew that the damm tire had popped, and silently cussed myself for not having new tires put on before I took this trip.

I had been through this drill before and was not looking forward to changing a tire on the side of this busy freeway so I decided to limp it along until I got to the Troutdale off ramp, at least there maybe I wouldn't get run over by some semi-truck thundering out of the darkness. The ramp finally appeared and I pulled from the freeway and stopped about halfway up the ramp. I went through my mental checklist and set the brake, shut the van off, and flipped the flashers on before steeling myself and stepping out into the wind driven rain.

I had just popped the back hatch open when I saw the reflections of multicolored lights and turned around to see a state patrol car pulling in behind me. The door opened and a large shadow appeared as the patrolman stepped out into the weather and closed his door. All I could see as he approached me was his outline because his 6 kgillion candlepower flashlight was continuously sweeping over me and the rest of my van. As he finally stepped before me and lowered his flashlight I found myself looking into the dark eyes of one of the most handsome black men that I had ever seen. Even through the floppy rain suit draped over him I could see that his shoulders were massive and I wondered to myself if that big chest was covered in hair or not. My daydream was cut short when his strong voice asked what my problem was and I told him that my front tire had gone flat. He slipped down the right side, flicking his light through my van as he went with me in tow. When his light locked on my sons sleeping brown face I could clearly see his little eyes clinch tight before the beam of light moved on. The cop turned and asked simply "yours?" and I said yes, causing his eyebrows to curl a bit and his eyes to quickly sweep my body. His entire demeanor instantly changed towards me now that he knew that I had enjoyed a black mans company at least once. As he surveyed the destroyed tire and mangled rim. He asked if I had triple A or some other club that he could call for me and when I told him that I had planned on doing it myself, his face cracked a beautiful smile and told me that he could take some time and help me if I wanted.

Deciding in microseconds to give him my best blonde act I told him that I had never changed a tire before but had read the owners manual and thought that I could handle it if he needed to leave. My line had hooked him, and he smiled again at me, cocked his head and spoke into a little microphone under his rain jacket. As I listened to him tell his dispatcher that he was taking his dinner break at Troutdale, I took the time to step back a bit and give him a good looking over. He was a striking man of about 6'2", lean but completely buff in every place that I could glimpse. By the time he signed off with his dispatcher, I had decided that I had stumbled across a black version of Adonis.

He followed me back to the rear hatch and I showed him where the tire things were stowed in their little compartment and he quickly went to work. It was obvious that the front tire was no match for him because in record time he had changed the bad one for good and even put my wheel cover back on. While he was effortlessly spinning the nuts off and on the tires I had stood beside him watching him work and chatting. He had asked where I was coming from and when I told him we had visited my son's grandma, he asked where my husband was. I knew he was pumping me for info and I told him that my sons father and I weren’t married and that he didn’t even live in the area anymore. I could tell that he welcomed this little bit of info because he began asking more questions about me personally like where I worked, what I did, etc. So by the time he finally stowed my jack back in it's place and closed the hatch, he knew about me and I knew that he was single, been on the job for three years, loved his job but hated this shift.

I had followed him back to his car and he motioned me inside as he slipped from his rain jacket before getting in. The inside of his cruiser was so nice and warm but almost as soon as I closed the door with my soaking wet jacket on, the windows began to fog up. I had never been in a police car and as the light flicked on when he opened his door I surveyed the numerous radios and he even had a computer hanging off of the dashboard.

He reached under the seat and pulled a large box of wet wipes out and used two or three to clean his hands while I thanked him for helping me. He told me that it was OK, that it was part of his job but I knew that to be a lie. He had taken his dinner break to change my tire and I wanted to make it up to him. I told him that I knew that he had used his personal time to help me and I wanted to make it up to him by cooking him dinner. He said that I didn’t need to do that and I told him that I insisted and asked him when his shift was over. He glanced at the car clock and said that he was nearly done with the exception of turning his cruiser over to his relief.

I offered to give him my address but he again just smiled and turned the computer screen towards me and showed me that all my information was clearly displayed right there then said that he had my info and could be there in less than an hour if shift change went smoothly. His eyes were boring into me and I could feel the heat building between us more and more with each passing second. With nothing left to say, I reached for the door handle then leaned across and kissed him quickly before slipping from the car and closing the door. I had seen the total surprise on his face as I kissed him and had purposely kept it very short. I wanted him to want more, so as I walked away, illuminated by his headlights I wiggled my ass with each step towards my door where I gave him a little smile and wave before slamming my door and heading on home.

As soon as I arrived I put my still sleeping son to bed then jumped in the shower to freshen up before Randal arrived. Slipping back into a loose sweatshirt and sweat pants made me feel absolutely wicked without underwear of any kind and I could already feel the wetness begin to build between my legs at the mere thought of his strong hand touching me there. I had just opened a bottle of wine as the doorbell rang and I opened it to find a smiling Randal looking down at me. I invited him in and led him back to the kitchen, working my ass for him the entire way. As we stopped by the counter I turned and saw his eyes quickly flick up from my butt and glimpsed a smoldering heat in his eyes as I offered him some wine. As I handed him his wine our fingertips touched and I could feel an electric energy arc between us, I knew that I was rushing things a lot, but I had wanted this man from the second I had looked into his dark passionate eyes there on the freeway. I took a sip of my wine then stepped closer to him and asked if ...

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