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Chapter 5
by
BreaktheBar
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A Detective at the Door
Marc cinched his robe tightly as he quickly stepped down the stairs from his loft, heading across the apartment to the door. It wasn’t so late that a visitor was out of the question, but he hadn’t been expecting a delivery or anyone dropping by so it was a little strange that his evening was being interrupted. He had been an early adopter of the Ring doorbells with the built-in camera and had a tablet mounted to the wall near his front door. He thumbed it on and looked out and raised his eyebrows in surprise, then turned on the microphone.
“Bonsoir, Detective,” he said evenly.
“Mr Fornier, mind opening the door?” Detective Connors said after a startled moment at hearing his voice. She quickly spotted the doorbell camera and looked down into it.
“Well, meaning no offence, Detective,” Marc replied. “But this can’t be a social visit so I must ask if you have a search warrant?”
The Detective sighed and ran her fingers through her long, coppery red hair. “I don’t have a warrant, and I’m not here to do a search or question you, Mr Fornier.”
“So this is a social visit then?” Marc asked, his lip curling into a bit of a smirk.
“Well, no,” the Detective said. “It’s something in between. Look, this is uncomfortable to talk about like this. Could you please invite me in?”
Marc let himself indulge in a full smirk for a moment. “Alright, Detective. But no funny business.”
He watched her for a moment longer on the doorbell cam and she ran her fingers through her hair again as if fixing it, then glanced down and tugged at the collar of her t-shirt under her leather jacket, fixing her bra to show off a little more cleavage. Marc wasn’t sure what she was after, but the Detective was clearly planning on trying to distract him with her looks.
Two could play that game.
Marc went to the door and loosened the collar of his robe so a bit more of his chest showed, then fixed his own hair before unlocking the door and opening it. “My apologies for my state, Detective,” he said with a welcoming smile. “You interrupted me during my evening ablutions. Please come in.”
“Oh,” the Detective said, hesitating a moment as she looked Marc up and down in his robe, but finally stepped inside.
Marc led her into the apartment and to the kitchen island, pulling out a stool and offering it to her before pulling out his own across from her. “It’s quite a surprise to see you,” Marc said as he led her into the apartment. “I had certainly thought our previous encounter would be our last. Not that I mind seeing you, that is. A pointed conversation with a woman as… aggressively sure of herself as you are is always a stimulating experience.”
Detective Connors had eyed Marc up and down several times, and as she sat she looked around at his apartment in a curiously analytical sort of way. “You have a lovely home,” she offered. “You live alone?”
Marc smiled softly. “You know I do, Detective.”
“Please, um, call me Sinead,” the Detective said. “This isn’t exactly a formal visit, so…”
“Titles shouldn’t come into it?” Marc asked with a raised eyebrow. “In that case can I offer you a coffee? I have decaf.”
“Do you have tea?” she asked.
“I do,” Marc nodded, standing back up from his still and moving to get a kettle going. “So, Sinead, what can I do for you? And please, call me Marc.”
“Well, Marc, after our last conversation I found myself interested in your line of work,” Sinead said. “Your resume was impressive, and the way your employer spoke about you was very flattering.”
“Interrogation,” Marc said as he set the kettle on the stovetop burner.
“Pardon?” Sinead asked.
“Our last conversation was an interrogation,” Marc said, turning and smiling at her. “Not that I minded, I just think it’s important to remember things in the truest light. I was interrogated by two beautiful police detectives. It makes for quite the story at work dinners.”
Sinead blushed, just slightly, at the offhanded compliment even while she pressed her lips together in a firm line. She really was a striking woman. Her hair hung in thick waves down to the small of her back now that she didn’t have it tied back in a ponytail, and she had a striking jawline to go with her thin frame. If she weren’t in her mid-thirties Marc wouldn’t have been surprised if she could have been one of those ‘influencers’ on Instagram and done fairly well for herself. Or become one of those OnlyFans self-employed pornstars. Well, she likely would have been successful even with her age. She had a small bust, a pushup bra under her t-shirt likely doing a lot of the work to form the cleavage she had, and while he hadn’t seen it in her tight black jeans yet he remembered that she had a wonderfully formed ass in her business slacks.
“That’s… true,” Sinead said.
“So, you’re interested in my work?” Marc asked.
“I am,” Sinead said. “It’s one of those things that there are only a few people can do well, and it seems like everyone who can does it purely in the private sector. It’s really pretty amazing.”
She was laying it on thick. Sinead knew that she was attractive and was leading into an ask of some sort, but Marc was having fun with this. “Well, to be entirely fair, private practice pays much better than public service in almost every way.”
“That must be true,” Sinead said, looking around the apartment again. “I’m just so curious about it all though, Marc. Do you think maybe you could show me a thing or two? A couple of tips, maybe?”
Marc snorted softly, glancing over at the kettle as it was starting to hum as it warmed up, then back to the redhead. “You came here at almost nine in the evening to ask for tips on corporate mergers, or on forensic auditing? Do you think, Sinead, that maybe you have something else in mind?”
Sinead bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes stuck to Marc as she realized she was either being too obvious or had gotten in over her head. Marc knew she wasn’t there to flirt - to be frank, she really wasn’t that good at it, at least like this. She had an aggressive personality and playing the girly ‘woah is me, I’m so impressed’ role wasn’t attractive on her.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sinead said.
Marc sighed. “Is there perhaps a file you want me to look at?”
Now she did blush fully, which was an appealing look on her as her freckled, pale skin flushed a warm pink from her cheeks down to her chest. “That would be… very helpful,” she said and reached into her inner jacket pocket and pulled out a USB stick and set it on the kitchen island.
“Well, should I send my consulting fee to the department, or is this ‘off the books’ so to speak?” Marc asked.
“I, uh, it’s not exactly official,” Sinead said, licking her lips with just a touch of nerves. It was a small gesture, but Marc picked up on it. He was used to looking for those little moments of nervous energy, of questioning whether something would go well or not. If they would be pleasurable or not.
“If that’s the case, then I assume you aren’t looking to pay for my services out of pocket,” Marc said. “How about I make you a deal, Sinead? I’ll take a look at whatever files are on there, but you have to do something for me.”
“I’m not breaking any laws for you,” Sinead said sternly, taking the chance to try and seize the power in the conversation with her anger. She’d been on the back foot pretty much since she arrived at the door.
Marc laughed. “No, no. Nothing like that. I want to take you to dinner. Just the two of us, somewhere nice so that you can dress up and show off that figure I’m sure you work hard to maintain.”
Sinead frowned questioningly. “Just dinner?”
“Well, that’s all I’m asking for,” Marc said. “Anything else would be entirely on your decision.”
“I… can do that,” Sinead said. “But only after you get me the answers I need.”
Marc smiled, scooping the kettle off of the stovetop just as it began to release steam out of its spout. “Of course,” he said offhandedly as he opened a cupboard and pulled out a decaf teabag, a paper travel cup and a plastic lid. He quickly filled the cup and put on the lid, turning and passing it to her. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else. Services first, payment after.”
Sinead, with her eyes narrowed, accepted the cup of tea. “That’s really all you want?”
“What else should I ask for?” Marc asked. “I’m fairly sure asking for a professional favour in the future wouldn’t go well with you.”
“It wouldn’t,” Sinead said.
“Then dinner it is,” Marc smiled. He went to a drawer off the island and pulled out her card for the department, tapping it on the counter. “Yes, here it is. Shall I give you a call when I’m finished?”
Sinead reached into her jacket and pulled out a pen, taking the card from him and scribbling a number on the back. “Don’t call me at the station,” she said. “Just text my cell, OK? I’ll come by to get whatever information you have.”
“It’s a plan,” Marc grinned and nodded. “Now, unless you wanted to stick around and have some tea…?”
“Right,” Sinead said. “Right, um…” She picked up the tea Marc had prepared for her and headed for the door.
“It was nice seeing you again, Detective,” Marc said as he followed, finally getting a chance to glance at that fantastic ass in her tight jeans. She could have stood to wear some heels, even with the jeans, but he understood why she wore a decent, mid-tier boot instead.
“Thanks,” she said, encompassing what she’d asked for, and the tea, in one uncomfortable shrugging gesture. She left, and Marc shut the door after her as he chuckled, locking it and heading back towards the kitchen.
“Playing with your food, dear?” Felicity asked from the stairs. She was still wearing the sheer white teddy and garter belt, but the handcuffs were dangling from one wrist and the ball gag was hanging around her neck.
“And how did you get out, ma petite fée?” Marc asked her.
She giggled, biting her lower lip in that way she did that was both utterly innocent and entirely naughty.
Marc sighed and glanced at the kitchen island where the Detective’s USB stick was sitting not ten inches from the white envelope waiting for Felicity. Wouldn’t that have been fun to explain?
“You know naughty girls get punished,” Marc said with a smile as he slipped his robe off to one arm, exposing his nakedness as he stalked towards her.
“Oh, I know, dear,” Felicity grinned. “And I’m counting on it. My jaw was just getting a little tight waiting while you turned that woman in circles. You’re not looking to replace me, are you?”
“Never,” Marc said as he mounted the stairs, stepping up to her. Felicity raised her arms and rested them on his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her pert lips. “Though she would make a very pretty playmate for you, wouldn’t she?”
“She would, not that I think she would want to,” Felicity said. “I think she might have a stick up her ass when it comes to being fun.”
Marc laughed, reaching around and grabbing Felicity’s meaty ass with both hands. “You well know what I can do with that.”
“Mmmm, yes please, dear,” Felicity said.
Marc released her butt and almost daintily lifted the ballgag back into place, Felicity opening her mouth with a smile to accept it. The Detective had interrupted the start of what was supposed to be an evening of relaxation and play and now they were going to need to start all over again.
Breakthebar erotica is powered by Patreon, where early chapters are released ahead for all of my series. Le Francais is a Commissioned Work. PM if interested in helping fund the series, or if you are looking to commission a story of your own!
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Le Français
Trading Favours while hunting a Crime Boss
'Favours' bring togehter a Finance specialist who has given up on dating and a Detective who never stops working.
Updated on Jul 30, 2025
by BreaktheBar
Created on May 25, 2023
by BreaktheBar
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