The music was fast, lively, upbeat, and I'd already had enough wine that I was feeling tipsy. I knew he was following me when I came here. That's why I came here. I hadn't expected him to be dressed well enough to be let in. He must have known I was planning on this last bit of fun before...
Well, he should know. He is the best detective in the precinct. It's an honor, really, that they put him on me. He really thinks I don't know hes tailing me, though. He's just standing there, talking to those girls. Turning them down, it looks like. Why isn't he dancing?
It's a terrible idea, but I apologize to my current partner and make my way to him, grabbing a glass of wine from a server on the way. I take a sip as I approach, meeting his eyes over the glass. Damn, but hes good looking! In that fancy getup, any woman would swoon if he so much as glanced at her.
And I had his full attention. For months, he's been on me, dogging my steps, making my life hell. How am I supposed to pull off a heist with a detective on my ass 24/7? Doesn't this guy sleep? His attention was going to put me in prison!
I wait while he politely turns down yet another gorgeous woman, some simp with pouty lips and bedroom eyes. The whole time he talks to her, his eyes flick over to me. He looks nervous. Is it because of me? Of course it is. I'm about to put his job on the line.
The simp walks off, looking dejected, and I step right up to the detective. I guide his arm around me and mold myself to his side, and before he can make a sound I press the wineglass to his lips, typing it so he can either drink, or spend the rest of the evening with winestains down his front.
He drinks, his eyes locked on mine. I keep the glass at his lips until its empty, then set it on the table nearby. His arms both go around my waist, keeping me pressed close. One of his hands travels up my back, his soft hands on my bare skin feels so warm it almost burns.
"Dance." I say as the next song begins. He finds my hand with his and leads the way to the dance floor. I'm surprised by how well he seems to know what to do. He has no problem with the music. I can't help but smile.
"You have soft hands, detective." I laugh gently, "cop hands."
"Is that what makes a cop?" He chuckles. "Are you expecting a cop? What sort of trouble could a pretty thing like you get into?" His eyes sparkle, the corners show distinctive lines from trying not to smile. He was enjoying this!
"I've known all along, detective." I smile, grin, really. Two can play at this game. "I've known since the day you were assigned to my case. February 14th. How sweet."
"Why would you have a case? Have you broken any laws? Are you planning to break any laws?" He asks, dropping his charade. His cover is blown. If he gets removed because of that, I'll have a much better chance of success.
"We both know they've been watching me since I testified against Dustin Sparks. They think I was more involved in that operation." I was, but the detective doesn't need to know that.
"Well, they wanted keep an eye out for you. You went against the court and the precincts recommendation when you refused to enter the witness protection program."
"They would have hunted me down and killed me. I am not in any danger from Dustin's gang of slum lord's and gamblers. Not unless they get it in their heads that I'm a snitch." I'd made arrangements with Paeter, the syndicate top gun, prior to my testimony. I had held up my end of the bargain, and he had held up his. I'm not stupid. I take care of myself.
The song ends, giving us a few moments to break. He doesn't let go, just pulls me more firmly against him. Much more physical than he needs to be. Not that I'm complaining. The detective is one of the most attractive men I've met.
"You shouldn't get so...intimate...with your suspect, detective." I laugh, indicating how tightly our bodies are pressed together. Suddenly he let's go and steps back.