Happy Flash Fiction!
Happy Friday, lovelies! Hope you had a great week. I almost didn’t write my flash because it was my daughter’s birthday yesterday and I am just exhausted. But, I love writing my flash fiction, and it keeps me at least writing once a week. So I forced myself to do it! lol I’m so glad I did. I honestly adore these two. Enjoy!
Writing Prompt ~ Seriously. (Provided by Krys) Scene #4
Shit. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Especially interviewing a potential suspect—now witness. There was no way this woman killed her boss.
The cat?
Hell, yes. That demon spawn holy terror definitely could’ve bludgeoned her boss to death.
Maybe he was as crazy as Brooke for even thinking such a thing.
And for suggesting he take his pants off. He was not taking his pants off.
She bit her bottom lip, her eyes round. A mixture of shock and contemplation, as if really considering his outlandish question.
He had been joking.
Sort of.
She intrigued him. Kept him on his toes. And oddly enough, he found that very attractive. It’d been a long time since he’d been with a woman. After his ex—who had been border-line stalker—he had given up on the dating scene. Too much hassle.
“Brooke, you don—”
“Okay. I’ll answer your questions if you let me fix the rip.”
Whoa. He honestly hadn’t expected that.
“Seriously?”
“Yep!” Then she smiled brightly. “Be right back. Have a seat in the living room.”
He didn’t follow her as she walked—more like sprinted—out of the kitchen. But he hesitated before making his way to the living room where he sat down.
What the hell was he doing?
He should be following her, making sure she wasn’t going for some sort of weapon and offing him like she could’ve offed her boss.
But he had already concluded—his gut screamed it loudly—that she hadn’t murdered her boss. Which was why his heart didn’t stutter with trepidation that she was getting a weapon, but more along the lines of what would happen when she walked into the room.
Was he really going to take his pants off in front of a woman he barely knew?
Shit. If his partner knew he was even following her directions, he would never hear the end of it. It’d be something he’d put in his stupid mental box for safe keeping where he could pull it out at any time for shits and giggles. He hated when Reese said shit like that to him. “Putting this in my mental box. Never going to forget it.” He always wanted to punch him in the face when he said it, and in that nauseating sly voice with a damn smirk on his lips.
Meow.
Rory flinched as Willow jumped on the coffee table in front of him, and then sat down. And stared. Hard.
“Shoo! I don’t like cats, and I certainly don’t like you.” He even braved waving his hands at her, but she didn’t even flinch, not like he had at her sudden intrusion.
Yep. Round one to Willow. Damn, aggravating cat.
Meow.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard your alibi for Brooke the first time. Got it. She didn’t do it.”
Willow’s tail moved gracefully back and forth, then she laid down and stretched her body, her paws dangling in his direction.
“Okay. I should just leave my card on this table and go. I’m talking to a dumb cat, who doesn’t respect personal space.” He leaned closer. “You don’t. I asked you to move.”
She moved her paws a little, as if tempting him to touch and play with her.
He shook his head as he leaned back in the couch.
“Here we go,” Brooke said with a chipper voice as she walked into the room.
He sat up straight and knew right away his opportunity was lost. He should’ve left when he had the chance. Because the tender, yet terrified smile on her face was hard to look away from. The woman mesmerized him with the littlest things and he couldn’t figure out why.
“Look, Brooke, I don—”
Then she pushed the coffee table slightly, which made Willow meow and jump up from her spot and saunter away. Thank God for small miracles. But then Brooke continued to surprise him when she set a small box full of sewing supplies on the table and grabbed the side of his pants.
“Don’t move. I don’t want to knick you.”
Then her hand slid up his pants as she grabbed a needle already threaded from the box.
She paused and looked up at him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, or say anything. Her hand was cold against his skin. He could feel a slight tremble. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if it was coming from her—or him.
He watched as her throat moved as she swallowed hard. Yep, he felt the same way. The air felt electrified. Like one small movement and everything would explode—in the most enticing way.
Then the moment shattered when she averted her gaze and started sewing.
“So, ask away? What do you want to know about my grabby hands boss?”
Hmm. Now, one point to Brooke. She said she’d sew his pants while he asked questions. Yet, she hadn’t mentioned the part where he had to take his pants off.
“Let’s start at the beginning. I want to know everything.”
He had no pressing urge to leave anymore. She was barely touching him, just her cold hand brushing against his skin now and again, but it was enough to put him in a trance and keep his ass plastered in his seat until the end of time.
♥♥♥
If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:
Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3
Writing Prompt ~ Seriously. (Provided by Krys) Scene #4
Shit. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Especially interviewing a potential suspect—now witness. There was no way this woman killed her boss.
The cat?
Hell, yes. That demon spawn holy terror definitely could’ve bludgeoned her boss to death.
Maybe he was as crazy as Brooke for even thinking such a thing.
And for suggesting he take his pants off. He was not taking his pants off.
She bit her bottom lip, her eyes round. A mixture of shock and contemplation, as if really considering his outlandish question.
He had been joking.
Sort of.
She intrigued him. Kept him on his toes. And oddly enough, he found that very attractive. It’d been a long time since he’d been with a woman. After his ex—who had been border-line stalker—he had given up on the dating scene. Too much hassle.
“Brooke, you don—”
“Okay. I’ll answer your questions if you let me fix the rip.”
Whoa. He honestly hadn’t expected that.
“Seriously?”
“Yep!” Then she smiled brightly. “Be right back. Have a seat in the living room.”
He didn’t follow her as she walked—more like sprinted—out of the kitchen. But he hesitated before making his way to the living room where he sat down.
What the hell was he doing?
He should be following her, making sure she wasn’t going for some sort of weapon and offing him like she could’ve offed her boss.
But he had already concluded—his gut screamed it loudly—that she hadn’t murdered her boss. Which was why his heart didn’t stutter with trepidation that she was getting a weapon, but more along the lines of what would happen when she walked into the room.
Was he really going to take his pants off in front of a woman he barely knew?
Shit. If his partner knew he was even following her directions, he would never hear the end of it. It’d be something he’d put in his stupid mental box for safe keeping where he could pull it out at any time for shits and giggles. He hated when Reese said shit like that to him. “Putting this in my mental box. Never going to forget it.” He always wanted to punch him in the face when he said it, and in that nauseating sly voice with a damn smirk on his lips.
Meow.
Rory flinched as Willow jumped on the coffee table in front of him, and then sat down. And stared. Hard.
“Shoo! I don’t like cats, and I certainly don’t like you.” He even braved waving his hands at her, but she didn’t even flinch, not like he had at her sudden intrusion.
Yep. Round one to Willow. Damn, aggravating cat.
Meow.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard your alibi for Brooke the first time. Got it. She didn’t do it.”
Willow’s tail moved gracefully back and forth, then she laid down and stretched her body, her paws dangling in his direction.
“Okay. I should just leave my card on this table and go. I’m talking to a dumb cat, who doesn’t respect personal space.” He leaned closer. “You don’t. I asked you to move.”
She moved her paws a little, as if tempting him to touch and play with her.
He shook his head as he leaned back in the couch.
“Here we go,” Brooke said with a chipper voice as she walked into the room.
He sat up straight and knew right away his opportunity was lost. He should’ve left when he had the chance. Because the tender, yet terrified smile on her face was hard to look away from. The woman mesmerized him with the littlest things and he couldn’t figure out why.
“Look, Brooke, I don—”
Then she pushed the coffee table slightly, which made Willow meow and jump up from her spot and saunter away. Thank God for small miracles. But then Brooke continued to surprise him when she set a small box full of sewing supplies on the table and grabbed the side of his pants.
“Don’t move. I don’t want to knick you.”
Then her hand slid up his pants as she grabbed a needle already threaded from the box.
She paused and looked up at him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, or say anything. Her hand was cold against his skin. He could feel a slight tremble. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if it was coming from her—or him.
He watched as her throat moved as she swallowed hard. Yep, he felt the same way. The air felt electrified. Like one small movement and everything would explode—in the most enticing way.
Then the moment shattered when she averted her gaze and started sewing.
“So, ask away? What do you want to know about my grabby hands boss?”
Hmm. Now, one point to Brooke. She said she’d sew his pants while he asked questions. Yet, she hadn’t mentioned the part where he had to take his pants off.
“Let’s start at the beginning. I want to know everything.”
He had no pressing urge to leave anymore. She was barely touching him, just her cold hand brushing against his skin now and again, but it was enough to put him in a trance and keep his ass plastered in his seat until the end of time.
♥♥♥
If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:
Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3
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