Moving through her living room, glancing to the TV where on top a photo of her mother sat, she couldn't help but smile. "Hi Momma. 'Nother day done. No bad guy's brought in but, hey, no one died either. It was a good day."

Chuckling, used to this ritual she played out daily, she told her mother, "The night looks to be even better, Momma." Isabella could feel a faint blush on her face, sharing with her mother's image the plans for the evening.

Shaking her head at herself, she entered the kitchen and set the grocery bag on the counter, flicking the percolator button on to make her a pot of coffee, which was rarely ever empty. She always prepared the coffee maker for when she would get home from work. The pot was always waiting for when she would prepare the next pot. To say she was addicted to coffee was an understatement.

Taking off her jacket and placing it on a kitchen chair, she slipped her runner shoes off. Isabella took her groceries out of the brown paper bag, opening the fridge and placing the eggs, butter, milk and cheese she had purchased on the middle shelf.

Taking the last item out of the bag, an economy bulk size bag of M&MŽ Peanuts, Isabella had to laugh at herself, tearing into the bag immediately, and munching on a few.

So coffee wasn't her only addiction. M&MŽ Peanuts were second only to coffee. Bowls were placed throughout her apartment, full of the naughty and sinful treat that she loved so much.

Addictions. I'm developing more and more every day.

With that reminder of the night to come, Isabella glanced at the clock on the stove. Noting that it was six-fifteen, she folded up the bag her groceries had been in, and placed it under the kitchen sink where she stored them.

Glad that the coffee had finished perking, Isabella filled her favourite and largest mug, which said "Detectives Love Handcuffs", that Alicia had given her when she made Detective. After adding two teaspoons of sugar and a couple drops of milk to her coffee, she made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

Placing her mug on the vanity, she moved to the bathtub. She placed the stopper in the drain and turned on the hot and cold water. Testing the temperature with her fingers, making sure it was on the hotter side rather than cold, Isabella poured strawberry bubble bath and bath salts into the tub. Strawberries were her favourite scent to bathe in and she took pleasure in it often.

Content to let the tub fill, she picked up her mug and headed to her bedroom at the left of the bathroom.

Taking a sip of coffee, Isabella groaned as the heady taste of it burst in her mouth. Holding it for a few seconds on her tongue, she couldn't help but relish the taste of her favourite beverage. Nothing tasted as good as coffee after a hard day's work.

Well...one thing did come close to the heady rich flavour of coffee and she savoured that as well whenever she had the chance. Smiling, she placed her mug on the bedside table. She sat on the side of her bed with an image of herself on her knees, mouth wrapped around the thick and lengthy cock of her current lover.

Lifting her right leg over her left, Isabella began taking off her socks, eager to hit the bathroom for a hot bath before he came over. Taking her shoulder holster off, she placed it in the drawer of the bedside table, then locked it before she began to undress.

Flushed from her thoughts, her nipples tingled as she slid her shirt up her torso and over her head. Feeling hindered by her bra, her breasts feeling heavy and achy, she wasted no time in dispensing of her bra and throwing it, and her shirt, to the hamper that sat in the corner of the room.

"Two points, Isy!" Laughing, she sat, thinking about the evening to come. Taking her breasts in her hands, feeling the weight of them, she pinched each nipple, shuddering and clenching her legs together as she felt the overwhelming zing of arousal spread through her from nipple to pussy.

Better stop there girl or you'll be coming in your pants. Too much planned tonight for you to get off by yourself!

Glancing at the clock again and knowing the tub should be up at a good level by now, Isabella stood, unbuckling her belt and undoing her slacks. Shucking them as she walked toward the bathroom, she kicked them up with one foot and caught them in her arms. She threw them over her shoulder, missing the hamper by a few inches.

Grabbing the waistband of her thong underwear, she pulled them to her feet and stepped out of them. Lingerie was another of her secret sins. The feel of silk and next to nothing on under her work clothes always made her feel sexier than hell, even if in her own mind. The knowledge of what she wore beneath her clothing while interrogating a suspect, chasing one down or booking them, gave her a rush of pure naughtiness that only she knew about.

Turning off the taps when the tub was finally filled, Isabella stepped in, sliding her back along the end of the tub into a reclining sitting position. Resting her head on the edge of the tub, she let her water flow over her, wetting and warming her body instantly.

Sighing with a deep, guttural breath, she closed her eyes for a moment and let the image of her lover seep into her thoughts. Short, dark hair that she loved running her hands through, especially at the nape of his neck. That always had him driving his cock into her harder and deeper than ever, silver eyes that turned dark whenever he was aroused or at times when he looked in her direction.

Six pack abs... Sighing deeply, Isabella's fingers twitched against the side of the tub, imagining her fingers running over that washboard stomach. Very little felt as good to her as his abs, the ridges, trail of hair that led to one of his best attributes. Giggling like a schoolgirl over the fact that he was all hers for the moment, Isabella felt heat rush through her stomach, leaving a throbbing ache between her legs.

His arms, specifically his biceps were another attribute she loved to hang onto. Strong, muscled forearms, and biceps that showed off his physique made the desire to have him all the more anticipated. Whenever she was close to climax she grabbed his biceps, digging her nails in, holding on while passion took over. He seemed to like the bit of pain her nails would inflict, always driving forcefully into her as never before, crying out his own pleasure.

Knowing that she would soon run out of time before he'd be there, and her getting more aroused by the second, Isabella hurriedly reached for her bath sponge, soaping it up and cleansing her body with an eagerness that she was growing accustomed to feeling whenever she had plans to see him.

Sponging all suds from her now clean body, Isabella pulled the plug in the drain, and stood in the tub, reaching for a thick, blue towel that was always present on the shelf. Not one to ever be without the thickness of her favourite towels after a bath, she always made sure they were laundered and stacked at the ready whenever she needed one.

Though it was the twenty-first century and women were seen most of the time as equal to men, she still felt she had to be stronger, less emotional than ever at work. She never let her colleagues see her emotions, always putting on a brave face, no matter what kind of call they would take. She always saved her emotions, her whims to the privacy of her home, where she could indulge to her hearts content.

Her partner of three years, Connor Warrick, who became her partner a year after she got her shield, had yet to see Isabella shed a tear, even when faced with abused children, murdered mothers, or anything else equally devastating.

Though her home was her haven, Isabella rarely gave in to expressing any sort of emotion over the last sixteen years since her mother's death, not even privately. A wasted effort really. What did tears really accomplish, was always her way of thinking. Why waste time on tears when someone could be out making a difference, changing things to make the city better, or just someone's life?

Shaking her head from her musings and stepping out of the tub to the bathmat, Isabella rubbed vigorously at her body, drying it, angered with herself for letting such doldrums thoughts to cloud her evening.

Reaching for the strawberry body lotion that went with her bubble bath and salts, she poured a generous amount into her palm, rubbing her hands together to coat them in the sweet smell. Then she smoothed it over her arms, her breasts, stomach and legs, the scent of strawberries brought a pleasing smile to her lips.

Humming to herself, Destiny's Child recent hit, Soldier playing her head, Isabella wondered how many more minutes she'd have to wait before her soldier made an appearance.

Recapping her body lotion and tucking her towel loosely around her once more, her heart skipped a beat as she heard the sound of her front door closing.

Looking at herself in the mirror, mussed, damp tendrils of hair around her shoulders, the towel haphazardly wrapped around her, she knew she looked like a woman who was eager for a man. Her man's touch.

Hearing the sound of a boot hitting the floor with a thud, she smiled, making her way to the doorway of the bathroom.

Peeking into the hallway, she heard another boot drop and the sound of heavy breathing. When he came into view she was struck breathless, even though she had been expecting him.

Dressed in his usual black denim, form-fitting jeans, dark hair damp as if he too had taken a few moments to clean up, he was a sight to behold.

Isabella's heart thudded double time and her legs threatened to give out. She noticed his leather jacket, undone over a naked torso.

There they were-those abs, the washboard stomach that had her literally teetering on the edge of orgasm already and he hadn't even touched her.

Finally lifting her gaze to his face, his smoldering silver gray eyes captured hers and she had to lean against the doorjamb of the bathroom for support.

He always made her speechless. His beauty, his charm oozed from him with no effort at all. How she had gone so long, so many years as friends with him and never really noticed him in that way before? Some Detective she was, not seeing what was directly in front of her.

As he kept coming toward her, his pace slowed, as if he knew the effect he was having on her and wanted her to want him more desperately than ever. His face broke into that sinful grin of his that told her he knew exactly what he was playing at.

Never one to let anyone, least of all this man, have the upper hand, Isabella let go of the towel she was still holding in front of her. It slithered downed her body, pooling at her feet. Noting his small stumble mid-stride, Isabella relished the effect she had on him.

Naked as the day she was born, she smiled at the man whom she needed to feel against her. Desperate to have his hands on her, she called to him.

"Brady..."