As we ride the elevator up to the fifth floor in silence I wonder what to do with the rest of my evening. It’s too early to sleep but I’ve no desire to go out. I don’t feel like watching television either. Maybe I’ll find a good book to snuggle up with for the night.
The doors open and I stroll down the hall with Jon following at my right. “I feel like hot shit right now. My own personal body guard walking me to my door.”
“Yeah, just don’t ask me to call in backup, ’cause we don’t have any.” He jokes. His gait is casual, but his shoulders tense as his eyes dart, alert and ready to take on any danger.
“You wouldn’t call for help even if your shirt was on fire.” I snicker.
“True.” He smiles. “Some even say I don’t play well with others. Probably due to the fact I’m an only child. I never had to share.”
I slide my key inside the lock and open the door, walking inside to flip the lights. Jon takes his job as my personal protector seriously, scanning the room, even walking over to check the bathroom. He nods, everything meeting approval.
“You know I walk into my apartment alone most nights, right?” He runs a hand over his short hair.
“Jeez Kate, don’t remind me. You really need to find a place in a safer neighborhood.”
“But I love it here.” I pout.
“Yeah, I’m not sure you’ll love being robbed, or worse.” He glares and I look away, not wanting to think about those possibilities.
“You worry too much! I’ve lived here for years and nothing bad has happened. To me anyway.” I mumble the last part.
“Yeah. Not helping your case.” Jon laughs.
I shake my head in frustration. This is an argument neither of us will win. I know the neighborhood isn’t ideal, but I feel safe most nights and love my own space.
“Do you want to stay a little while and have a drink? I’m not sure I can sleep yet and wouldn’t mind the company.”
Jon’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah, sure. I could go for a beer.”
I walk to the small kitchen. It’s basically the length of one short wall in my rectangular studio. It sports a countertop, dishwasher, and refrigerator. I use the coffee table to eat as there isn’t any room for a proper dining table, preferring a sofa and chairs for company rather than a table. I pull two beers from the stainless steel fridge, handing one to Jon and twisting the cap off my own.
“Have you been taking on much surveillance these days?” I ask and Jon nods, taking a swig before answering. I lean a hip against the granite countertop.
“Yeah, I’m out most evenings now that we keep gaining new clients. I actually had to turn down a contract job from Scottsdale PD last week because my schedule is already booked.” His words lace with excitement and a genuine full smile fills his face.
“That’s great, Jon. I am so happy this entire PI business is going well for you and Evie. I don’t know how you hold up in the back of a delivery van like that every night, though. That would drive me nuts!”
“Well, it’s not always the taco van.” He winks. “Most nights I just take my truck. Just depends on what kind of investigation is taking place. But I’ll take these jobs any day. Yeah, sure they can be boring sometimes, but I’m a sick bastard because I get a high off busting people for lying, cheating, and committing crimes.” He’s beaming.
“Do you ever get turned on by watching people have sex?” I ask curiously.
“No.” His brow furrows into a scowl.
“No? I would understand with the couple you were following today because, come on, he was just gross and had like no skills in the bedroom and her screaming would make my dick retreat. If I had a dick. But you’ve got to come across some really hot sex sometimes.”
At his pause and sudden need to study the label on his beer bottle I know he’s holding back something.
“Come on.” I coax. “You can tell me. You know I won’t judge you. I’m just curious is all. I mean, that’s got to be kinda hard. Pun intended. After watching phenomenal sex on screen or behind a pair of binoculars and then going home alone. That has to suck.”
“You know not everyone needs a random hookup just because they’re feeling horny, Kate.” His lofty response still doesn’t answer my question.
“I know. I’m just saying… I’m just wondering…”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you just wondering about that?”
“I guess I’m just curious. I know you don’t bring any women home, Evie has told me you don’t. I just think that’d be lonely. I didn’t take you for the celibate type.”
“I haven’t taken a vow or anything. I just don’t see the point in random hook ups. When I’m intimate with someone I’d like to know more than her name. I want to really know the woman, be attracted to more than her body. I’d have to appreciate her mind, her ability to hold a conversation without making me want to stab myself.”
“Sounds like you’ve had such positive dating experiences.” I say sweetly.
“Ha!” He grins. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You know it’s not easy for women either. We have to keep our body looking in top shape, both in and out of clothes, meanwhile striking the perfect balance of being desirable without being a slut, being fun without overbearing, being independent without making a man feel that he’s not in total control. And then there is the whole waxing business. Don’t even get me started on the pain we endure just to be perfectly smooth for your pleasure. It’s not fair!”
“You wax?” He clears his throat.
“Of course I wax. Well, I don’t do it per say. I go to a woman and she and I avoid eye contact as she tortures my entire va-jay-jay region.”
Jon looks away, tilting his beer to his lips. He takes three long pulls to finish, slamming the glass bottle onto the counter.
“You want another?” I tilt my bottle, finishing the contents with one last swig.
“Yeah, that would be good.”
I turn, grabbing two more beers from the fridge. I hand Jon one, and open my own, reaching out to click the necks against each other before gulping a mouthful. The liquid runs cold and decadent down my throat.
“So is it talking about vaginas that make you uncomfortable or is it the waxing of them?”
The contents of Jon’s mouth spew, beer splashing my arms and the front of my blouse as well as the floor space between us.
“Oh fuck! Kate, I’m sorry!”
I giggle. I love messing with Jon and am rarely able to catch him off guard. His apologetic demeanor for spitting beer changes to one of annoyance as I can’t help but laugh at the mess he’s made.
“I’m sorry! I just couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think you’d soak me in beer though!”
Jon moves to the sink, turning the faucet to wet a dishcloth before dropping to his hands and knees, wiping the splattered hardwood floor. I unbutton my blouse and peel it off, wiping my sticky arms with the soiled fabric before tossing it into the sink. I’ll soak it later and hopefully get the stains out.
Jon stands, turning back to the sink. His eyes land on my discarded top and he hisses a breath. His chin lifts and I’m met with predatory intent. Raking his eyes up and down my body, Jon takes in my black lace corset bra with a look I don’t recognize. My skin heats, breath catches, and body buzzes with energy.
I’m still wearing my black knee length skirt and Jimmy Choo pumps. All the important parts of me are fully covered. I wouldn’t have stripped in front of him otherwise, but the way he’s looking me has all my girlie parts tingling in excitement.
“This is a bad idea.” He growls.
“What is?”
“This.” Jon stalks towards me in two strides, gripping the back of my head with both hands before slamming his lips to mine. His mouth moves with determined purpose, quickly working his tongue against my own.
His hard strong body presses close. Hands move from my hair down the sides of my arms, brushing over the skin gently before resting at my hips with a light squeeze. He pulls me closer and groans.