"I've been considering building a separate room to house all the books, but I haven't considered it a priority... before now." He glances sideways at me.
I look over at him.
His eyes meet mine. His are worried. He's wondering how I'm going to react.
"Have you heard of a kindle?" I ask sarcastically.
He laughs again. "I have a couple of them around here somewhere. But I prefer the actual physical books. When I read, I can then skip ahead or back whenever I want to. Do you know how hard it is on a kindle to go back and try to find something you read before. I use bookmarks all the time, but they just don't work all that great." He took a breath. "I tend to fill my kindle with junk books. You know ... throwaway ones that I read and then delete. But this," he gestures to the mass of books, "These are mine. I can pick up each one and feel it in my hand. I can browse through each book and locate favourite passages. I can read the blurbs, study the front covers. These books are for rereading, for researching, for analysing and for just sitting and thinking."
"I agree with you about the kindle. I, too find myself hampered sometimes by the restrictions. But I haven't the space for the vast quantity of books you have here."
"You like books?" John asks quietly.
I can feel there is a hidden message in that statement. If I say no, I wonder if it would be a dealbreaker. But in this case, I don't have to say no. "I love books." I don't even have to consider my answer. "I have thousands on my kindle. And more stored on an online database. I have a few physical ones though."
"Like what?" he asks curiously.
I smile as I recall the physical books I have at home. "Well ... I have a lot of books from my childhood. Fairy tales and similar books. I have a numerous collection of bibles, even though I've never read the book itself. I just seem to collect them. I also have books of poems, biographies, and history books."
"I'd like to see them one day," John comments.
I laugh and gesture around the lounge room. "I don't have anything like this though." I look around at the vast collection and ask, "What kinds of books do you like reading?"
He gestures to the piles. "All of them." He hesitates, as if to say more, then shakes his head. "Let's get this paint washed off first. We can talk about books later."
I nod and follow him as he walks carefully through the piles of books. I love reading. But this... this takes it to new heights. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing. The books just need to be organised.
I linger and take note of some of the books as I walk past them. I see covers of 'The Iliad', 'The Odyssey', and many old bibles. Alongside these is a copy of 'Aesop's Fables' and 'Sun Tzu's Art of War'. So many different types of books. My fingers itch to get in there and go through them, and catalogue them.
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Chapter 7
"Here we are."
I follow John into the bathroom. The first thing I notice is the size of the room. It is huge. It's large enough for a shower and a bath. There is a large basin with cupboards above and below. And another cupboard which holds towels, and soaps. The whole bathroom has been painted in a pale blue shade. The shower, bath and basin are all white.
John pulls out some clean towels and hands them to me. Our fingers touch and sparks fly. Our eyes meet and hold. For endless moments there's nothing but us staring into each other's eyes.
He grins finally, which breaks the tension. He clears his throat and says, "Let me know if you need help scrubbing the paint off."
I wonder if he means for me to call him anyway? Before I can consider that any further, he goes on talking.
"I've got some spare trackies and a t-shirt that I think will fit you. I'll leave them on the basin for when you get out." Turning, he sweeps outside quickly, closing the door softly behind him.
I take a breath to release the sudden tension. Then am forced to take another one. I frown as I realise this attraction between us is going to complicate things. We're supposed to be working on gathering evidence to catch a rapist and murderer. Not to romance each other.
Grabbing one of the clean towels, I put it on the floor, and begin to strip off my paint filled clothes. There is no way I could wash the paint out of these clothes. It would take multiple soakings and probably multiple washings to get rid of it all. And even then, there would probably always be a red tinge throughout them. Better to chuck them and buy more, I thought. Much easier and cheaper in the long run.
I peel off my t-shirt. It is soaked through. It flops onto the towel as I release it. My jeans follow soon after. My bra and panties are also history. The paint soaked right through my t-shirt and onto my bra. I don't expect John to have a spare bra and panties lying around, so it looks like I'll be going braless and pantieless for a time. As I do have large breasts, this might cause a bit of a concern. But there is not much I can do about it right now.
Turning the shower on finally, I tune the water so it's as hot as I can stand it. Undoing my hair from its bun, I step under the water. I take a couple of minutes just to enjoy the feel of the water, then sigh and grab John's shampoo to began scrubbing. This will take a while, I thought.
Finally, after what seems like hours, I turn the water off and step out. Checking the mirror, I notice my hair is blonde once again and I let out a relieved sigh. Drying myself, I find some clothes on the basin that John must've left for me. The black trackies are large, but have a cloth tie so I can adjust them to fit. The red t-shirt is on the smaller side though. My breasts squash in the material, but there's not a lot I can do about it. Wrapping my paint ridden clothes in the towel, I collect the bundle, open the door and go in search of the detective.
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I follow my nose and find John in the kitchen. He's cooking what smells like bacon and eggs and as my stomach rumbles, I realise I'm hungry.
He hears me coming and looks up and smiles. "You look better."
I nod. "Thanks. I feel better. Where can I put these clothes?"
He frowns and peers at the bundle with a frown. "What do you want to do with them?"
"Throw them out."
He laughs. "Yeah. I don't think they'll be much good for anything else. There's a rubbish bag in that cupboard there," he points.
"Thanks." Grabbing the bag, I shove my clothes in it and walk outside to find the rubbish bin. It's outside the back door, so I don't have to go far. Throwing the bag in the bin seems kind of carthic. I turn around and spy the view. "Oh!"
"You like it?"
I swing around in shock. John sounds like he's so close to me. I find him leaning forward to talk to me through the open window above the sink.
I grin at him and look back at the view. "I love it." The back yard is large and private. There is a six foot fence surrounding the property and large trees planted in front of it. Smaller trees are planted nearby. There is a water feature set off to one side. With seats situated close by. The centre point has to be the large, blue swimming pool in the centre of the property.
"You swim?"
I nod. "Yes. I love swimming." My eyes lovingly roam over the swimming pool. I would love to go for a dip. "Anna also loves to swim. She'd be in the pool day and night if I let her."
"You have a pool at home?"
"No." I shake my head regretfully. "She either swims in the ocean, or I take her to the local swimming pool."
"She can use this one anytime she wants to. I don't get to use it as much as I'd like."
"It's beautiful out here." I breathed in the calming atmosphere and took it deep inside me. After the day I'd had, this was like heaven.
"Yeah. I like it. It was like that when I bought it. I haven't had time to add or change anything yet. But I have plans."
I turn to face him through the window. "What plans?"
"Well for one... To get rid of this window and change it into a door... make it an open space."
I nod. "That will make it easier to bring food and drinks out here."
; "Yeah. That's the plan." He hesitates and then says, "Come on inside. Food's ready."
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I walk back inside the house. "Aren't you going to have a shower?"
"Yeah. Later. I think you used all the hot water."
I laugh. "Did not. There's still plenty there for you."
"That's okay. Food first... then shower."
We sit around the breakfast bar and dig in. The food is good. Hot and filling. I find that I'm starved, so I eat fast.
"So," John says after a while. "You going to call me by my name now?"
I sigh and glance down at the remains of my meal. "You know we can't..."
"Can't what? All I'm saying is my name is John. Can't you use that name?"
I sigh again. "Sure."
"Caitlyn..."
"No." I hold up my hands. This had to be brought up at some time, so it might as well be now. "Look I'll be the first one to broach it. There is something between us. I can feel it. You can probably too. But we have to work together now. The Captain wants us to work together. I don't think we should..."
"I do."
I look up quickly. "What?"
"Caitlyn... what I feel for you... it's not a fling... or a one-time thing. What I'm feeling for you is a long-term thing. Whether it leads to a wedding or not," he shrugs, "I don't know. At this stage it's too early to say. But I do know... us..." He points at himself and then me. "This works for me. I want to get to know you better. I want to get to know Anna. I want us to give us a try."
I lean back in my chair and stare at him as I consider his suggestion. "It's been a long time for me... I haven't been with anyone since before Anna was born."
The look of surprise on his face says it all. "But Anna is..."
"Ten. Anna's ten." I look back down at my meal. "Yep," I sigh. "Ten years. Ten years with no sex."
"Wow! Why?"
I sigh. My fingers twirl some bacon on my fork while I talk. "When I got pregnant, it had been a one-time deal. Just once. Then the guy left. I have no idea who he was. I don't know how to get in touch with him. He has no idea I got pregnant."
"Do you love him?"
I shake my head. "No. That's just it. I don't know him."
"What was his name?"
I grin and move my eggs around on the plate. "Harley."
John sits back and laughs. "Let me guess he rode a bike... a Harley."
I grin back. "Yep. He did. I didn't think it was his real name at the time. I still don't. But there is no way to track him down from that."
"His loss," he shrugs. His eyes bore into mine. "My gain."
I blush and change the subject. "Okay. I think you should seriously get in the shower before that paint hardens and we'll need a blow torch to get it off."
He grins. "Want to come and get it off me?"
I blush redder.
He laughs, then goes serious. "So... what do you say Caitlyn? Will you give it a try?"
I look up at him. I see the determination and desire in his eyes. I nod. "Yeah. I'll give it a try."
His smile lightens up the room. "Great. Good. Okay. Now it's time for a shower."
I stand and gather the dishes. "I'll clean up here."
"You don't have to do that. I can do it later. I just have to pop the dishes in the dishwasher."
"I can do that easily. I'm not completely useless."
"Good to know," he jokes.
I blush harder as I walk into the kitchen.
John walks out with a grin on his face and a spring in his step. I'm certain I also hear a quiet chuffle, but ignore it.
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Chapter 8
After stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, I cleaned up some crumbs from the breakfast bar. I decided to ring home to see what was happening there. I spoke to Anna and told her I'd be staying here a while. She told me the media was still parked outside the house.
After assuring myself that she was fine, I hung up and wandered around the house. I found myself drawn to the books. I needed to have a look at some more titles. I'd only picked up one book, when I heard John calling from the bathroom. Placing the book back down on the stack, I walked quickly to the bathroom.
Opening the door and slipping inside, I found the room had steamed up considerably. "What's up?"
"I can't get the paint off my back," he complains. "I can't reach it."
I stumble slightly at his words. "Um. Okay." I consider all the things wrong with what I'm about to do. Even as I'm thinking that, I am already removing my t-shirt and trackies.
John opens the shower door before I reach it. His eyes veer downwards, taking in my nakedness. He gulps loudly. "Wow!"
Smiling slightly, I try to keep my eyes on his as I step inside the shower and close the door behind me. "Turn," I order.
He complies but with a huge grin. I catch a glimpse of how happy he is to see me naked. Now it's my turn to gulp. "Wow!" I mumble.
I lather the soap and begin scrubbing at the paint on John's back. John has a wide back. His muscles bulge repeatedly as I scrape away the paint. His back tapers to a smaller waist with hips that draw around towards his manhood. My fingernails dig in around the paint, trying to lift an edge of it, to get it removed. It takes a while. There are lots of grunts from John. The water begins to cool by the time I'm finished.
John swings around and grabs me before I can leave the shower.
Pushing me back against the glass wall of the shower, his mouth devours mine. His lips take and promise more in just one kiss. I'm left reeling and begging for more from the onslaught. Hands roam, touch, pinch, and squeeze. Mouths suck, lick and caress. We join fast. The water falls around us. Panting and lost in each other we consume, desire and take again and again. Fireworks explode behind my eyes. I scream as I come. John pounds inside me again and again. He's like a mad man, totally out of control. I come again as he yells and pours himself into me.
We end up lying on the shower floor, panting hard. "Well," John begins.
"Yeah. Well." I try to breathe normally, but it's not happening. My breath has left me stranded and panting. Wanting more. "Wow!"
"Yeah. Wow! Do you think we're compatible?"
I burst out laughing. "Yeah. We might be."
His arms surround me. His mouth kisses my temple. "Yeah. Me too," he whispers.
The water goes icy cold. I squeal and jump up.
John stands and turns off the water. "That's the last of the hot."
I laugh. "Yeah."
After getting out of the shower, we dry off and dress. Then head to the kitchen. John makes a hot cuppa and we sit and talk. We talk about books, movies, and our lives. Anything besides the cases or work. Finally we collapse into bed around midnight.
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Chapter 9
The next morning I awake alone.
Stretching, I smile at some of the memories from last night. We might've gone to bed at midnight, but we certainly didn't sleep... or rarely, anyway. John had woken me many times throughout the night. Each time, he'd used his fingers, mouth and other parts of his body to perfection. I had orgasmed so many times; I think it was the most times I had come since, well, ever. I grin again at that thought. Wow! Talk about sex! I hadn't even known sex like that was possible.
Throwing back the covers, I bound out of bed and dash into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Towelling off, I grin again as I look at myself in the mirror. I look like a woman who has been well and truly loved. My blue eyes are sparkling. My smile is a mile wide. Even my blonde hair seems to be sparkling with happiness. I hadn't seen myself this happy since ... since I found out I was pregnant with Anna. That thought caused my smile to whimper. My fists tighten around the basin. I don't even feel the cold enamel. Oh God! It just hits me. We hadn't used any protection! We hadn't used any condoms.
After I finished hyperventilating, I manage to get my breath. Quickly dressing, I open the bathroom door and go in searc
h of the man himself. I find him in the kitchen, cooking up a storm.
He turns when he sees me and smiles widely. "Hi."
I smile back, "Hi."
"Breakfast is almost ready." He turns back to continue cooking.
"Um. John?"
"Yep," he mumbles.
"We didn't use any protection last night."
It takes a couple of seconds, then he stiffens as he realises what I meant. He turns slowly, horror and dismay plainly evident on his face. The egg on the slicer he's holding, slides off and lands on the floor with a splat. It shakes him from the shock. "Damn!" he mumbles. Grabbing some paper towel, he swipes the egg off the floor and places it in the rubbish bin. He turns back to me. "You aren't on any kind of birth control?" he asks with a slither of hope in his voice.
I shake my head from side to side.
He nods. "I suppose you're in your most fertile time?"
I think about it. My last period was ... Yep. Two weeks ago. I nod and stumble blindly for a chair.
John races over to help me sit down. Pulling out a chair for himself, he sits heavily alongside me. The silence is deafening in the kitchen. The only sound is the slight sizzle from the remaining eggs still cooking in the pan on the stove. "I'm sorry," he begins. "I forgot. I got so carried away. I don't ... that is ... I haven't ..." He runs his hand through his hair. "What I'm trying to say is I haven't had a lot of girlfriends. I usually am so tired up with work that I don't have time. I just didn't think," he ends.
I look up at him questioningly.
"We can only deal with what we know. We can only wait and see whether you are pregnant or not." His hand covers mine in comfort. "If you are, we'll deal with it then. But in the meantime, we don't know for sure either way."
I nod.
He gets up to dish up the breakfast. "Don't take this the wrong way," he begins. "But why haven't you had sex in the past ten years?" He brings plates of food over to the table.
My stomach rumbles. I didn't realise I was so hungry. I pick up my fork and begin munching on a slice of bacon, I think about how to answer him. "Having Anna was the best thing that happened to me. But, never having had a baby before, all my time was on her. Then after things had calmed down somewhat, I ... I decided to start a store. So that filled my time then. I had no time for dating or men."
The Psychic, the Cop and the Killer Page 4