A Hope City Duet

by Kris Michaels

  "Wait." Brock snapped his fingers and pointed to Treyson. He had his phone to his ear and had moved to a corner away from the long table in the middle of the room and the men who were laughing and drinking. Samuel glanced at his watch and then over at the people he was with. A frown stretched across his face and he shook his head.

  “He does not look happy. Oh, there. He made another call. Time stamp on the calls?"

  "6:24 p.m. and 6:27 p.m." Kallie glanced down at her book

  He pointed to the monitor. "Can I get a copy of this?"

  "Sure, hang on. I can send it to your email or float it to your cloud if you can give me the correct address to route it."

  Like he'd know that? "Ah… I'd prefer a thumb drive."

  "Damn, old school, okay. Hold on." Cory opened several drawers before he found a small silver tube. "Eureka."

  "Walks like a duck and talks like a duck...." Kallie bumped into him and let her body linger against his as she looked up at him and mouthed, “Boomer”.

  He leaned into her, intending on giving her shit, but... damn. Wisps of her hair had loosened from that tight braid and softly fell across her cheek. The glow of the monitors illuminated her eyes. They stared at each other, and he knew she was right there with him. The chemistry between them was off the charts. Fuck him, she looked edible, and he was suddenly starving. Ravenous.

  Brock tore his eyes away when Cory removed the flash drive from the computer with a flourish. "Here you go. From 6:00 p.m. until the waiter turned off the light at 9:30." Cory handed him the drive.

  He reached to his inside his coat pocket and produced a small evidence bag. He opened it and had Cory drop it in. It took the work of seconds to seal and initial the bag. He had Kallie initial as witness and gave Cory a receipt for the property. "You realize I don't need or want that back, right?"

  "Don't stress it. We have to follow the rules. Keeps our ass away from the flame if you know what I mean." Kallie extended her hand. "Thank you."

  "No worries, that I can understand. Have a good night."

  Brock held the door open for her and followed her past the main dining area and back into the parking lot. He glanced at his watch as they slid into the Crown Vic. He shoved the key in the ignition and cranked the beast up, flipping the heater to high. He turned in his seat. "I think whoever killed Samuel called him at the restaurant."

  Kallie thumbed through her notebook. The damn thing looked frayed already. "The time-stamp was for 6:24 p.m. Yeah, here. I didn't write down the specifics about the call, but according to the information tech sent over, he received a phone call at 6:23 p.m. It lasted for just under a minute... and here is the outgoing call. The security camera and the phone times are off by a couple minutes."

  "I remember looking at that call list. The call in was the last one he received. I did look at the specifics, but there were none noted, and I asked tech to trace that call."

  "When will they have that information?"

  "Should have it already. Give them a call, and I bet you dinner it comes back to a burner phone."

  "Well since I was making dinner anyway, I'll take your bet, but yeah. The odds are not in our favor." She punched in the numbers to tech and waited and waited. She removed the phone from her face and squinted at the time. "Well, no wonder they aren't answering."

  "Late?"

  "Almost 8:00 p.m."

  "Damn, I'd love to have regular office hours."

  "Would you really?" She hung up the phone and leaned back into the seat.

  "Meh, for maybe a week out of the year. Sometimes it seems like all I do is work." His stomach rumbled loudly. "Did you say you were making dinner?"

  She laughed and fastened her seatbelt. "Caught that did you? You should be a detective. Do you need to feed Fester?"

  "Yeah. I'll drop you off and then come back?"

  "That works." Kallie sat silently as they drove through the city. When he double parked in front of her apartment building, she grabbed the door handle but hesitated. Finally, she blurted, "Bring a change of clothes with you, Detective King, and give the cat double water and food. You won't be going home tonight."

  She was out of the door and up the stairs before he could pick his jaw up off the floorboard of the car or form a coherent response. A horn honked behind him forcing him to move. A slow, smug smile spread across his face. No bullshit, no games. And he thought he was attracted to her before that invitation, or was it a command performance? Whatever, he’d follow any orders that woman gave him.

  12

  Kallie bounded up the stairs and laughed as she hit the landing on her floor. She felt like a teenager going on her first date. Only she had much bigger plans than just hoping for a kiss. The attraction she felt for Brock was dangerously strong. Dangerous because she could imagine falling for this guy, and that was something she’d avoided while she was with Guardian.

  The door was open a heartbeat later. It took thirty seconds to set the oven temp and slide the casserole she’d left defrosting in the refrigerator this morning into the oven. She then all but levitated down the hall.

  She turned down the duvet on her bed as she passed through the bedroom on the way to the bathroom. Showered, hair down and brushed, and staring at the dresser drawer, she shook her head at her lingerie selection. Anemic at best, but she hadn’t been expecting to find someone like Brock.

  Settling on a jade green thong and bra, she slid into them and then her favorite pair of yoga pants and chunky sweater because they gave her confidence. Not the lingerie, the clothes. They hugged her curves in all the right places, and she needed to feel a little sexy because tonight was a milestone, and she really fucking hoped it worked out. She left her hair down; she’d seen the way Brock regarded her last night when she’d let it down from the coil at the back of her head. Any advantage she could get, she’d take. She wanted Brock. She wanted Brock to want her, and just maybe, it would work for more than a roll in the sheets.

  She stumbled; her mind and feet lost synchronization at the thought. This was more than sex for her, wasn’t it? Crap. Yeah. Her stomach had butterflies flapping around in crazy flight patterns. Her skin prickled in anticipation of his arrival. She rubbed her arms as she headed into the kitchen.

  Oh, fuzzy duck balls. Liking him presented a problem, then, didn’t it? Well, at least for her. She opened a cupboard and took down a bottle of bourbon and two low-ball glasses. Sizzling chemistry aside, she really liked Brock and wanted to nurture that… friendship, but her invite for a romp between the sheets put them on the precarious lip of a slippery slope. Fuck, they needed to talk, didn’t they? Crap, crap, crap. Why couldn’t she just throw him into the bed, use him, and call it a day?

  Because he wasn’t that type of a guy, and she wasn’t that kind of woman. Kallie dropped her arms to her sides and stared up at the ceiling. Shit. Did she just put him in the boyfriend zone? She did, didn’t she. Holy crap. Next she’d be writing his name and making scrolly hearts all around it. Two days. Two days! Seriously, woman, you need to shake yourself out of this romance novel you’re writing in your brain and jump back into reality. She’d invited Brock over for food and sex. Her flights of fancy, aside, those were the cold hard facts.

  She nodded her head to punctuate her self-scolding and slammed open the silverware drawer. “You don’t even know if he’s interested in anything more than a roll in the hay.” She collected the silverware as she grumbled. Her internal argument didn’t abate while she put the place settings on the table, or while she did a quick inspection of the front room. It certainly didn’t end when she padded back into her bathroom and ran a brush through her hair again, nor did it subside when she turned on the lamp beside her bed.

  The knock at her apartment door, did however, shut down the argument. It also threw her into a quick panic. Straightening her shoulders, she drew a deep breath and headed to the front door. She could do this. She could.

  Brock smiled when she opened the door and that simple act calmed her.


  “I fed Fester enough for tonight and tomorrow. He has fresh water and litter, and I spent some quality time petting him before I came back.” He hefted a small duffle bag. “As directed.”

  She opened the door and motioned him in. “Should I apologize for that? The directive?”

  He sauntered in the door and stopped in front of her. “Regretting it already?”

  “No. I have no regrets about asking you to spend the night.” She shut the door and stepped toward him. “Do you?”

  “Regret you asking me? Abso-fucking-lutely not. I was trying to plan a way to get to us to this point. But we can’t let this—” he motioned between them, “— interfere with the case.” He placed his duffle beside the table in the small entryway and slipped off his winter jacket, dropping it over the bag.

  She walked past him as she said, “I’d like to believe we are both more professional than that, and I agree, the case comes first. As much as I don’t want to say this, maybe we should talk before we jump off the cliff?” She poured a shot of bourbon into each glass and handed him one.

  “Talk?” He ran his eyes up and down her and leaned on the counter. He lifted his glass in a silent salute and took a sip.

  She dropped her eyes. Oh, hell. Words were going to be difficult because she really wanted to see what was hiding in that bulge of denim. “Ye– yeah.” She cleared her throat and took a drink. “Ground rules.”

  “Like?”

  “No inappropriate actions at work. Strictly business.”

  “We will need to let HR know we are seeing each other.” He took another sip and set the glass on the counter.

  “I have no problem doing that. Do you?”

  He shook his head. “What else? You said rules, as in plural.”

  “This may be stupid, but I enjoy the way we work together, and I don’t want to lose that, because of this.” She used the hand that held her bourbon to motion between them. God, that sounded… so freaking emotional. She rolled her eyes. Damn it, heat roared to her cheeks. She spun and grabbed at a potholder, though she didn’t need to pull the casserole for another thirty minutes.

  She felt his warmth behind her. Big, tall, and hard, he stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her hips. He bent down and whispered, “You captivate me, Kallie. I know you’ve had a hard time in the past. I’m not him. I’m never going to hurt you like that. We have chemistry, both sexual and personal. I’m on board with us working on both of those levels.”

  She turned around. His arms encircled her. She shifted her gaze up and saw the honesty in his eyes. “I’d like that. Both levels.”

  Her breath caught in her throat when he lowered to kiss her. He hesitated millimeters from her lips. The needy sound that came from her was embarrassing and one hundred percent honest. When his lips swept hers, she shivered. One of his hands traveled up her back and cupped her head. He angled her and dropped his lips again, this time asking for, and being granted, access.

  Her arms circled his neck out of necessity. Her bones turned into goo, and she would have slid to the floor without his strong arms around her. His tongue explored her and danced with hers. His strong arms supported her, and he bent her back and drew her into his body. Oh hell, feeling the hard ridge pressed into her abdomen drew another whimper from somewhere deep inside her. She pushed against his shaft and rotated her hips, drawing a growled response from him.

  He kissed his way from her lips, to her ear. “Turn off the oven.”

  She blinked, bringing the ceiling into focus. His lips traveled down her neck, and she shivered when he nipped the junction of her shoulder. She dropped an arm from around his neck and patted to the left. She moved just enough to see what she was doing and hit the button to shut off the oven.

  He glanced up at the range before he reached down with both hands, palmed her ass and lifted her up to him. She shrieked, wrapped her legs around him, and latched her arms back over his neck. “Put me down; I’m too heavy!”

  “No, you’re perfect against me. Bedroom?”

  She nodded in the direction of the hall before she leaned into him closer and ran her tongue up his neck. He squeezed her and stopped in the middle of the hall. She shifted so she could see his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m trying not to come in my jeans like a horny teenager.”

  She laughed and leaned back in, swiping the same path as she had earlier.

  His hand popped her on the ass. “Minx. So that’s the way you want to play it, huh?” He strode into her bedroom, and they both tumbled onto her bed. It wasn’t a gentle descent, more like a crash landing, but it got them on the bed, and that was perfect.

  She pushed at the hem of his sweater. He tugged it up and whipped the bulky sweater off, taking the t-shirt under it also. He was magnificent. His thick pecs, bulging biceps and tight, flat stomach on full display, she allowed her fingers to reach up and play with the light dusting of hair on his chest. The muscles under his skin jumped under her touch. She trailed her fingers over long jagged scars and down farther to his belt. He leaned down and took her mouth, possessing her with a heat and need that matched her own. She flicked open the buckle and unbuttoned his jeans. She found his shaft under a layer of cotton and ran her palm down the length of it. He was thick and long, hot and ready for her.

  “Clothes have got to go,” he grumbled and pushed away from her to stand at the side of the bed. She watched as he toed off his boots and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one swoop. Lord, she’d never seen an Adonis belt as pronounced. The bulky winter clothes and coats he wore totally obliterated his exquisite body. “Now you.”

  He reached down and grabbed the waistband of her yoga pants.

  She shook her head and rolled off the bed. “Lie down.”

  He stretched lazily on her queen-sized bed and dwarfed it with his size. His hand drifted down his stomach, following the ridges until he palmed his cock and stroked it slowly.

  She leisurely worked her sweater off and removed it.

  “Fuck, look at you.” Brock’s words of praise emboldened her.

  She turned around and peeked at him over her shoulder. Smiling, she shimmied her yoga pants down to reveal the top of her thong. Brock growled, literally growled, when she slid them down over the swell of her ass.

  She heard him move, standing up behind her as she bent over, pushing the clingy material down her thighs. His hands grabbed her hips, his hot cock pressing against the top of her ass. He lifted her, one arm tucking her close to him and the other traveling up her neck. He tilted her head and kissed her from behind. The kiss was messy, filled with passion, desire and need. The hand around her waist traveled north, and he caressed her breast through the green lace. She closed her legs tightly. The need that pooled there demanded friction. She rolled her hips into his cock.

  “I want you like this,” Brock husked as he broke the kiss.

  “Then take me.” She needed him. Needed release. Needed to be… desired.

  He spun them and pushed her toward the bed, bending her so her forearms rested on the mattress. “Just like that.” His hand trailed down her spine and gooseflesh rose in the wake of his touch. He knelt behind her and his hands ran over her ass and down her thighs before they retraced their path. This time, he carefully escorted the waistband of her thong over her ass and down her legs. She moved her leg when he tapped it. “Spread your legs out. She did and then gasped. He spun so his back was to the bed and pushed in between her legs, moving them to wedge his shoulders between her and the bed. His arms circled her legs, and he kissed the V of her leg.

  Oh God, what he was going to do… Her legs trembled when his fingers split her folds. She jerked when his hot breath blew across her exposed skin, and she damn near jumped out of her skin when he put his mouth on her. The sensations confused and excited her. Her hips undulated against his face of their own accord. She dropped onto the mattress, her arms useless. Words fell from her lips, begging, pleading for more. His tongue assaulted her clit with
a relentlessness that left her gasping, but then he added his fingers. She bucked against his face as he penetrated her. He curled them and added his thumb below her clit while his tongue continued its assault.

  A wave of sensation tightened into a single point low inside her and then exploded. She gasped, probably screamed, and lost control of her legs. Brock grabbed her hips and dragged her down onto his lap. She lay against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as he rested against the bed. She could feel his cock under her and groaned as it flexed against her sensitive skin. “I think you melted me.”

  “Did I?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m going to allow you to do that again, and again, and again.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  She pushed away from him and used her thumb to clean her release from his chin. “Time for you.”

  He smiled. “Oh, believe me that was for me as much as it was for you.”

  She ground down onto his cock. “And yet, I have evidence to the contrary.”

  “Well, Detective, what are you going to do with that piece of evidence?” Brock palmed her neck and drew her in for a kiss.

  She could taste herself on him, and she was glad, glad that he tasted of her because that meant this was real, that she'd overcome her past, and she was moving forward. So many little victories culminated in that kiss. When they drew apart, she leaned away. “I think, Detective, I’m going to have to examine the evidence closely.” She scooted back on her knees until she was over his thighs. His cock, red and hard, lay on his stomach. His balls were tight against his body, and she could tell he wasn’t far from reaching his end. God, she loved that she could get him that excited.

  “How close an examination do you plan?” His voice—damn, the deep baritone of his voice—had taken an elevator ride straight down to sexy as fuck, with a very noticeable orgasmic accent. The man radiated sex, and right now she wanted to give him a measure of what he’d given her.

  She bent down, keeping her eyes fixed on his. “A very detailed examination. Evidence has a way of… making things hard… to understand.” She dropped her eyes momentarily as she cupped his shaft with her palm and moved it away from his body. She lined his cock up and wrapped her tongue around the cap like a lollipop.