"What a day, Darlin'" Jake said as he sat at the end of his bed watching Caitlin digging through her overnight case. "You okay?"
"Mmm-hmm," he heard but she never raised her eyes as she answered still pawing through the small case. "I think I forgot my pajamas."
Jake moved to his dresser and pulled out a clean t-shirt before tossing it to her. "That gonna be enough for you?"
"Should be, baby, thanks," she threw over her shoulder as she moved to the bathroom.
It was later, their hearts slowing after their session that was more loving than energetic, more sweet than grasping when they began to talk.
"You gonna have to cancel what you got scheduled for tomorrow morning?" Jake asked the top of her head nestled on his chest as his arm traced random patterns on her back.
"Yeah, probably," she replied on a yawn. "I should probably call Maya and see if we can trade shifts," she continued as she reached for her cell phone that was recharging on the nightstand. Maya seemed to take Caitlin's request in stride and was willing to do the trade. As soon as the call was finished, Caitlin turned off the light on her side of the bed and scooted across its wide expanse until her back was against Jake's front. She felt Jake's arm snake around her waist and pull her even closer.
"I got guys coming to take the bed away at around eight and the new bed will be delivered by nine, yeah?" He glanced at the clock. "So what time do we need to get up?"
"Uhm, seven or so?" Caitlin felt her body relax as she began to drift off, snuggled in Jake's arms.
"Darlin'?" she heard him whisper.
"Mmm-hmm?"
"Almost lost my girl today."
"I almost lost my girl today over a fuckin' bed," Jake continued against her shoulder.
He heard a one note chuckle before her sleepy voice said, "You're right about that."
"Don't wanna lose my girl." There were a few beats of silence.
"Don't wanna lose my girl over stupid shit, especially not stupid shit that I've done, yeah?" Jake used his chin to move her hair away from her shoulder and she felt his lips in the sensitive spot where her neck joined it.
"Mmm-hmm."
"Very experienced in doing stupid shit," Jake began to rain soft kisses on that tender stretch of skin. "Can almost guarantee that I'll fuck up at some time in the future."
His lips paused their movement before hearing a derisive snort. "Almost a certainty."
"So, Darlin', when I do end up doin' the stupid shit and fuckin' things up royally need to know that we'll be able to work it through before we start talkin' about quittin', yeah?" Jake felt how tense his body had become just with his admission and his request. Her answer was important to him and even his body recognized it.
"Agreed," she mumbled, reaching her hand around to pat his thigh. Jake let out a sigh of relief and felt his body relax before he heard another yawn.
He was almost asleep when he felt her jerk.
"Jake?"
"Yeah, Darlin'," he mumbled, feeling her hair stir as he spoke.
"Does it ever bother you?" she whispered into the dark of the room.
"Bother me?"
"'Bout me not…err…'bout me not knowing what to do and stuff?"
It was late and Jake was tired. But he knew what she was trying, in her own way, to say.
"You mean about you and me, pretty girl?"
There was silence, which he was learning was her way of saying yes without having to say a thing.
"Babe."
There was more silence as Jake searched to find the right words to speak to his girl.
"The fact that I'm your first at a lot of the physical things we do makes me feel ten feet tall. Am not gonna lie, Darlin'. Because you may not be my first physically, but you're the first one that has captured my heart." Jake admitted. "That gonna be enough for you?"
He felt her nod as she wiggled her hips against him.
"You done, baby?" She asked like he was the one keeping them up with his chatter.
"Night, gorgeous," he replied and dropped a kiss to the top of her head.
"Night, Jake."
*.*.*.*.*
Layton Jamison was on his fourth scotch before he finally had the courage to make the call, despite receiving the information earlier in the evening. Just thinking about what was going on, without his knowledge, and by an unknown someone had him pissed off and not a little scared.
His mind had gone round and round trying to figure out if the information had been requested by one of his competitors, one of his so-called friends because there was no way in hell the report had been generated by a new credit card or purchase.
He slugged back the remaining portion of his drink and picked up the phone.
"Stu? I've got a problem," he started. "Received an email today that someone has pulled my credit report."
"So, what do you want me to do about it? It's your fucking report, Jamison, and has absolutely fuck-all to do with me."
"We can't afford to have anyone nosing around, especially not now. What if they find something, Stu? What if they're on to us? We can't allow them to--"
"Shut the fuck up and listen, you stupid prick. Nobody knows nothing and they won't as long as you keep your trap shut."
"I don't think I can do this, Stu, I really don't. I think I need to get out." Layton hated the whining tone that seemed to creep into his voice every time had to speak with Stu, but he couldn't help it.
"Get out? What makes you think you can get out, you ignorant fuck? You're in this as deep as I am, if not more. You'll get out when I say you can and not a moment sooner. Now, pull your thumb out of your flabby, white ass and get on with what we discussed last week. Can you do that, Jamison? Or am I gonna have to do something to get you motivated? Huh?"
"I don't know, Stu, I mean if they're onto me--"
"How's that fine piece of ass you call a daughter, Jamison. She still going to school like a good girl?"
"Why do you need to know about my daughter?" Layton's voice got softer and he could feel the beads of sweat that started to run down his face and between his shoulder blades.
"Heard tell she's legal now. Might have to get me some of that just to make sure you stay with the program. Understand me?"
"No, Stu, not my daughter. Please not my daughter." Layton could hear the pleading note in his voice. "I'll stay with the program, just stay away from Renee, okay?"
"Just stay with the plan and everything will be fine."
"Ah, okay, Stu," Layton said before realizing he was talking over a dial tone.
He shakily wiped the sweat off his forehead before picking up the decanter and refilling his glass. He crossed the floor of his study and shakily lowered himself into the leather desk chair before covering his face with his hands as he realized that he was under the thumb of a sick bastard…with no way out.
Chapter Twelve
Ram pushed the button for apartment #1 again after receiving no response in his first two attempts to gain entry into Caitlin's apartment building. He checked his watch but it was only 7.15am and he remembered that they had never set a firm time to meet when they spoke yesterday evening. Ram deliberated calling Jake since he didn't have Caitlin's number but was not willing to assume more of a connection when Jake seemed unwilling to discuss it. Although, from their closeness in the kitchen, Ram didn't think he was far off the mark at seeing a couple in the first throes of love.
Ram tried pushing button #2 to see if he could reach a neighbor who could let him in the building which had to be warmer than standing out in the exposed wind on the porch. His eyebrows lifted when he heard the buzz and release of the lock on the main door. As he let himself in, he saw a beautiful face, topped with disheveled blonde curls poke outside of the apartment to the right. The already big blue, blue eyes widened even further when they caught his uniform before slowly lowering to his holstered gun.
"Can I help you, officer?" He heard her sleep-roughened voice ask. Sexy.
"Sorry to wake you, ma'am. I'm he
re to see Caitlin, the apartment manager," he answered stepping fully into the hallway. "We were supposed to meet here this morning."
"Just a sec," the blonde offered before closing the door though within no more than 30 seconds she was back and pulled it back open fully. "I know she had an emergency yesterday and asked me to look after her cat overnight. Don't know what time she'll be back home, though."
Ram saw her making small movements to tidy her wild hair and tighten the belt on her blue flowered robe. "Do you mind if I wait a few minutes for her here in the hall?"
"Not at all," came the reply. "I'm Marianne Gibson," she offered holding out her hand.
"Police Chief Ram Patel, pleased to meet you." He shook her hand and noticed how tiny she was in comparison to him. His hand practically swallowed hers.
"Why don't you come in and have some coffee while you wait? We can leave the door open so you can catch her when she comes in."
"Sounds good, if your sure you don't mind?"
"You're the Chief of Police, right? I think I'm probably safer with you in my apartment than when I'm here by myself with the deadbolt on!" She smiled at him over her shoulder as she led him inside. " Make yourself at home on the couch and I'll bring the coffee."
Ram couldn't help but watch her shapely hips sway as she moved to her kitchen. His eyes moved lower to her well-formed calves and feet before dragging his eyes away and choosing her blue striped chair to sit in. Glancing around, Ram noticed that there were touches of blue everywhere in the tidy apartment.
"Take anything in your coffee?"
"No, ma'am. Black's fine."
"Here we are," Marianne placed a tray on the coffee table that had a thermal carafe and mugs. She leaned over and filled one of the cups, her robe gaping away from her skin and offering Ram an unimpeded view of her seriously attractive cleavage that was spilling out of her light blue, lacy nightgown. He quickly dragged his eyes back up to focus on the mug she was holding out to him as she deftly poured another cup for herself.
Ram slid his hips back into the chair and quickly crossed his legs to try and hide his reaction to her unknowing, innocent exposure. He watched as she sat in a corner of her couch, jostling the coffee a bit as she wiggled to get comfortable. Finally she sat back and crossed her legs, tucking the lower one underneath her as she took her first sip.
"Nectar of the Gods," she breathed, closing her eyes.
"Ma'am?"
"Can't start my morning without a large cup of coffee," she explained with a smile, raising her cup in emphasis. "First sip is like ambrosia, nectar of the Gods."
Christ, was she serious? This little moppet is sex on legs and she's nattering on about bloody coffee? Ram took a sip himself. "This is good," he said, raising his cup to her.
"Put a dash of cinnamon in it. Gives it a twist, deepens the flavor."
Why does everything coming out of her mouth, that very full, very pink mouth sound like a come on?
"I'll have to try that," Ram muttered taking another sip.
She shifted in her seat and he watched as her robe parted and he caught a glimpse of her smooth thigh peeking through the lacy bottom of her nightgown. Ram tried, and failed, to ignore his cock's straining against his zipper.
Holy shit. He was in trouble. If Caitlin came in now, he'd have no recourse but to stand up. Jesus. It was like being back in high school, hoping and praying the teacher wouldn't call him up to stand in front of the class.
He heard a soft ping and watched Marianne jump at the sound.
"Oh, uhm…" she stuttered, biting at her lower lip. "That's my…ah…I have something in the toaster. It's my…Er…it's my breakfast."
Ram got a whiff of her perfume as she quickly made her way into the kitchen before he caught the scent of what had been in her toaster.
"Pop Tart? Strawberry?" he asked out loud.
"Uhm…well…" Marianne turned a delightful shade of pink before admitting, "Yeah. I'm kind of addicted to them."
Ram was smiling broadly as he set down his mug and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a familiar silver pouch. He held it high and shook it. "Me, too."
He watched as the wonder left her face to be replaced by a huge smile and he heard her tinkling laugh before he let go with his own. They were both soon holding their sides and wiping away tears, catching each other's eyes before letting loose again.
Finally, Marianne leaned across the small bar that set the small kitchen apart from the living room. Not to mention giving him a fine repeated view of her delightful cleavage.
"It's my guilty pleasure," she whispered.
"Mine, too," Ram whispered back, tucking the pouch back in his pocket. "But you can't tell anyone. I have a position to maintain."
Marianne stepped around the bar and moved closer to his chair. She stood before him, wrapped in her short, flowery blue robe with the light blue lace of her nightie peeking out where the tie had loosened, with a serious face and a raised right hand.
"I, Marianne Louise Gibson, do solemnly swear to never, ever tell another living soul that our hot Chief of Police indulges in Pop Tarts."
Ram was awestruck as he watched her raised hand slowly close into a fist, just her littlest finger sticking up.
She called him hot.
"Pinky swear, okay?"
"Pinky, what?"
"Pinky swear. You know, where you shake hands using only your pinky finger to seal the deal."
Ram raised his hand, too, closing it until only his smallest finger remained upright. He brought his hand to hers slowly and she met his more than half-way, curling her pinky around his. She smiled into his eyes whispering, "Pinky swear."
Ram got caught in the depths of her blue eyes before he turned his gaze to their entwined fingers.
She called him hot.
"Pinky swear," he heard himself say softly, reverently.
They both jumped at the knocking on the opened door.
"Hey, Chief. Hey, Marianne." Caitlin and Jake were smiling at the door.
"You ready, Cait?" Ram asked as he stood realizing that by standing he was only a few short inches away from Marianne. Their fingers were still entwined and Marianne, after a brief glance at her front door, had turned back to him, raising her still smiling eyes.
He glanced down and she winked, she actually winked, before unhooking her finger from his and stepping back.
"Hey, Caitlin. Hey, Mr. Stanton," she called.
As Ram moved around her towards the door, he felt her hand on his arm.
"Your secret's safe with me," she whispered on tippy-toes aiming her mouth up towards his ear.
She called him hot.
"You okay, Ram?" Jake asked as he followed the Chief into Caitlin's place.
Ram steeled himself not to turn around and look back at Marianne's. Hell, he steeled himself to blink for fuck's sake.
"Let me just get the keys and the rental agreement for you, Chief Patel," Caitlin called as she walked down the short hall towards her bedroom. She kept all the paperwork for the apartments and tenants in a fireproof box tucked in the floor of her closet.
"Here you go," she said handing the police chief the key to the padlock, the keys to the apartment and the tenant agreement. "Do you need me there when you go in?"
"I'm okay going in by myself, if you don't mind. I'm not sure what I'm looking for except for the contact info for any family. If I need to remove any item from there, I'll provide a list to you."
They heard a knock on the door and Jake took charge of the guys he had called to remove the queen size mattress from her bedroom.
"I'll bring the keys back when I'm done." Ram called as he moved up the staircase and out of everyone's way.
Caitlin sat at the bottom of the staircase as the two burly men wearing Skeet's Auto t-shirts and Jake maneuvered the bed and box springs out of the apartment, which was quite a feat considering all the sharp angles and corners they had to plan for as they moved the unwieldy, shifting mattress. Soon, thoug
h, the bed set was loaded and being carted away. Caitlin found Jake moving the dresser and nightstand back into position in her bedroom.
"Okay, new stuff is arriving in about 30 minutes so you should be set," Jake offered on a smile.
"What size bed did you get?" Caitlin asked softly.
Pole Dance Page 18
