LifeoftheParty

by Trudy Doyle

  “Not to mention being in Rittenhouse Square this time of night when the Convention Center’s halfway across town. I mean he does live in Jersey, right? Being a state senator and all?”

  “Not twenty minutes away. A real big house in Marlton.” She blushed slightly. “The last I heard, I mean.”

  Son of a bitch—she knows him well, Doug thought, the idea sending a nauseating rush though his gut. He had figured it from the moment he’d seen them together at the fundraiser, but he chose to ignore it. He looked at her, struggling to keep his voice impassive. “He was your lover, wasn’t he?”

  Gina gasped, her hand flying to her breast. The elevator opened and she bolted into the hall. Doug grabbed her arm halfway down and, opening the door, shoved her inside.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he hissed.

  “Are you crazy? And risk seeing you like this? I’d have to be nuts to do that.”

  “I’ve got nothing to do with it. Someone’s trying to kill you. Old lovers are always the first suspects.”

  She threw up her hands. “Oh, well that makes sense. Because if that’s true you should be on the top of the list.”

  “Don’t push me, sweetheart,” he said, looming over her. “Remember, I’m the one trying to help you.”

  She brushed her hands through her hair. “And killing me in the process.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “If I wanted to kill you I could’ve done it a long time ago. God knows I had a reason.”

  “And your reasons were always so much more important than mine. Doug the omnipotent. Doug the all-knowing.” She shrugged him loose, heading for the end table and her purse. “Well, maybe there’s a few things you don’t need to know about me. Maybe it’s better that way.”

  He could feel the blood boiling in his veins. “If you want me to help you I need to know everything.”

  She reached into her purse, pulled out her BlackBerry. “I’ve already told you all you need to know.”

  He came up behind her. “Just saying that tells me you’re hiding something.”

  “Yeah, I want to die. That’s real intelligent.” She moved away, scrolling. “Now I just so happen to have a life that doesn’t include you, Douglas, so why don’t you go back to your investigation while I get on with mine or you won’t have anything to—”

  He grabbed the phone and hurled it into the room. “You stupid little bitch.”

  “Animal!” She slapped at him and he latched hold of her wrists, forcing her back on the sofa.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Gina, I’m warning you.”

  “Go to hell!” she cried, struggling under him.

  “Yeah?” He gave her a shake. “Tell me what you know or I swear to God I’ll walk right out of here.”

  She stared at him, incensed. “Why does that not surprise me! You’d rather have me die than ever imagine me with anyone else. Get this through your head, Doug! I had a life before you and after you and I have one now. You can’t crawl inside me and watch me every second of the day. There will always be parts of me you’ll never understand. My God! What do you want from me?”

  Some seal inside him blew and before he could think he was clawing at her, scrabbling her dress to her waist as he fumbled with his belt and his zipper and he was driving himself in, pressing her to the sofa, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it, his mouth falling to hers to squelch the curses flying from her mouth like richly carved pearls. He fucked her with a passion and intensity he’d never felt before, a primal urge egging him on that he was helpless to ignore.

  Gina writhed beneath him, her hips bucking as he pushed into her, biting his tongue as he shoved it ceaselessly inside, muffled curses still streaming up her throat. After a minute she abruptly stopped, her breath turning to gasps, and it was then he knew she was coming. He released her mouth, her neck arching into the cushions as she shivered and moaned against him and then he was coming too, his mind blanking as he emptied himself into her, draining himself, spending everything, a pleasure so deeply feral his groin ached. When it finally ended he slumped against her, more tired than he ever imagined. A moment later he felt her arms around him, her breath warm against his neck.

  She kissed him. “We have a lot of angry sex, don’t we?”

  He closed his eyes. “I’m a fucking bastard, I know it. I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked me right in balls.”

  He could feel her laughing. “Oh honey, they’re my balls as much as yours, and that’s the last thing I’d do to anything with that much entertainment value.”

  He eased up, looking at her. “Is that all I am to you? Entertainment?”

  “No,” she said softly, gliding a finger down his cheek. “Of course not. To me you’re everything.”

  Then he kissed her, softly and thoroughly, gathering her up in his arms to set her upright on the sofa. “You okay, baby?”

  “Aces, flatfoot.” She yanked his tie. “C’mere.” She kissed him quick, ruffling his hair. “But I think we’re going to have to ease up on the hot sex for an hour or two.” She squirmed. “My nether region is starting to feel a bit ragged.”

  “Lightweight.” He kissed her back, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go. I’ve got just the thing.”

  A little while later they were both sitting suds-deep in the Jacuzzi, Doug’s arms flung atop the sides, Gina at the opposite end scrolling through her BlackBerry. “This is really odd. There’s only one message from Jack, telling me that Ted Parks has the list from the fundraiser last night.”

  “Yeah, I know. He also called the squad.”

  “He did? Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”

  He snorted. “I think all your friends are weird, but who am I to say.”

  She snaked her foot between his legs and gave his package a nudge. “Come on, Doug. Why would Ted think that I’m with you?”

  “Why would he think you wouldn’t be?”

  “Look, no one knows about the death threats outside of you, your captain, Jack and Roark. And no one knows we’re,” she rolled her eyes, smiling, “an item besides you and me. So how would he know to call the squad?”

  “Because someone told him. Or he knows our history.” He looked at her directly. “You tell me.”

  “I have nothing to say. And that’s the truth.”

  “We’re going there, first thing. Should’ve gone this afternoon.”

  “So we kind of got sidetracked. But I don’t regret it a bit.” She set the BlackBerry on top of the toilet. “At least I haven’t heard from bigfan today. That’s a relief.” She slid herself over to his side, slumping against him with a sigh. “Oh Doug, this was such a good idea. See this steam? It’s not entirely coming off the water.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Never underestimate the rejuvenating power of a good soak, doll. You’ll be all right in the morning.”

  She shifted to look up at him. “Does that mean tonight?”

  “Sleep,” he said, laying her head back against his chest. “Blissful, restful sleep.”

  She sighed again, closing her eyes.

  They got out before the water turned cold, drying each other with thick terry towels. He watched her as she bent to the sink to brush her teeth, her breasts leaning with her, her beautiful ass arched, wanting to sink himself into her so badly he had to look away. But when it was his turn she was behind him, those same breasts rubbing up against him as she hugged his back, watching him shave and brush and floss, even kissing him between his shoulder blades as he pissed.

  “Men are so lucky,” she said. “All you have to do is aim. Now, women? Imagine having to struggle out of a thong. And all those cold toilet seats. Even worse when you go to a public bathroom and the toilet paper’s empty.”

  He flushed. “Yeah, but the sex is easier. No runoff. And no evidence bulging out your pants. And you don’t even have to touch your pussy to get off.”

  Gina scowled at him. “Do too. Even when I—” She blushed furiously.

  “Masturbate? Oh don’t
sweat it, doll. Everyone does.”

  “Whatever. But that’s not what I mean. I mean you’d still have to touch my pussy to get me off.”

  One brow shot up. “No I wouldn’t. And I’ll prove it to you.” He swept her off to the other room and, pulling back the covers, set her down on the bed.

  She snuggled into it, throwing her arms over her head. “Proceed, Dr. Welland.”

  “Then pay attention.” He leaned up on his elbow. “The whole body’s an erogenous zone. You just have to treat it like one. Remember when you were sucking my toes?”

  She grinned. “Oh yeah. Did you like it?”

  His groin twinged in remembrance. “If I didn’t stop you I would’ve made a mess of myself. But on a woman there’s more obvious spots.”

  “My breasts. Obviously.”

  “Obviously. I’ve heard of some women getting off while nursing their babies.”

  Gina winced. “There’s just something wrong about that. Where’d you hear it?”

  “Never mind. The point is…” He leaned into her, his mouth at her ear. “Oh hell, one example is worth a thousand explanations.”

  Gina flinched when Doug’s tongue found her ear, deftly lacing into each crevice, dipping into the canal, gently tugging at her lobe. From there he traced his tongue down her neck, nipping and planting soft kisses, all the way down to the curve of her breasts. She mewled softly, arms over her head twining into each other as if she were a dancer en pointe. He dipped lower, curving his trace into her soft, smooth armpits. She flinched, this spot obviously virgin so he exploited it, huffing softly against the sensitive skin until she moaned, kissing a trail to her breasts again.

  “Is it working so far?” he asked softly. He knew it was when the answer came back as a groan. He then moved on to her nipple, sucking and tugging and branding her anew, going from one breast to another until she fairly glided beneath him, her hands scrubbing into his hair as he kissed and licked around the heavy underside of her breast. From there his hands took over, kneading and squeezing, while he took her mouth with his, kissing her deeply and with a flourish that left him just as breathless as she.

  “Touch me,” she moaned. “Just once. Please.”

  “Not part of the deal, doll,” he said, kissing her again, her leg arching against his back. “And definitely not necessary.”

  “Please,” she begged. “I don’t want you to fuck me, but I can’t stand it.”

  “You won’t have to much longer. Now pay attention.”

  He kissed her once more then again began his trek down her body—ears, neck, armpits, breasts, licking, sucking, branding, Gina writhing against the sheet as if she were sliding on oil, moaning softly, her hands on his shoulders, urging her lower.

  “Please, Doug. Please…” She groaned. “I don’t care, I just want you to…”

  He kissed one hip, her belly, the other hip, then back. Then, reaching up, he pinched a nipple between his fingers and squeezed, trailing across her belly to lace his tongue deep into her navel. Where he flicked. And flicked and flicked and flicked.

  Her mouth opened, her neck arching into the pillow, her hips shivering as violently as he’d ever seen before she went limp, her eyes falling shut. “Jesus,” she breathed.

  Doug leaned up on his arm. “Didn’t I tell you? No pussy involved at all. It’s all in the brain, really. You see?”

  She turned to her side, snoring.

  Doug sighed, looking down. His cock lay against his thigh like a steel pipe. Sometimes his randy mojo was a real pain in the ass.

  He dead-bolted the door and shut off the lights, sliding his Glock underneath his pillow. Then he hunkered down and, pulling Gina against him, fell immediately asleep.

  Sometime in the middle of the night he awoke to an intense pressure between his legs, pushing, pulling, until he realized it was his cock, yanking his whole body forward. He rolled onto his back and the pressure grew more intense, the muscles of his ass tightening. His eyes flew open and he saw Gina through the shadows. It wasn’t a second later he exploded into her mouth, Gina sucking and licking until she pumped him dry. When she was through, she settled against his side.

  “No pussy involved at all,” she said, promptly falling asleep.

  * * * * *

  7:36 A.M.

  “Where you going?” Gina asked sleepily, grabbing his pillow, her hair spilling about her own.

  Doug leaned down and kissed her temple. “Just sleep,” he said, smoothing her hair. She was so beautiful he winced. “I won’t be long.”

  “Mmm…” she murmured, drifting off.

  A few minutes later he was out on the street, crossing Rittenhouse Square. The benches held a few early birds, dog-walkers here and there, the coffee shops already open and steady with traffic. But he needed to walk. And keep walking as long as he could to work it out of him. He knew it was selfish because he really shouldn’t be leaving her alone. And if something did happen to her while he was stupidly tending to his own corrupted ego, he’d simply put his service pistol to his head and pull the trigger. But he couldn’t help it. He needed air and motion like a horse needed to run. He needed it badly and he needed it now.

  So he walked and walked, the store windows decorated with autumn colors, the potted geraniums soon giving way to poinsettias and eventually winter cabbages. Why he knew this he couldn’t fathom, beyond it was one of those constants in modern life that stuck with you like knowing your email addresses, PINs and what month to get your car registration renewed. But the things much older than that, as in the inner workings and foibles of the human heart—those completely baffled him. Those, he just couldn’t figure.

  He loved her. God in heaven, he loved her. He always had, he always would, as sure of it as the sun climbing over the skyline. But did she love him? She’d never said so. He turned the corner, easing around a man sleeping over a steam grate. The only time she ever mentioned it was to say she didn’t love him, sending him to a place he never wanted to go to again. So what now?

  He stopped at a light, the sparse traffic mostly taxis and buses and not a car in sight. He stamped his feet, impatient. He always thought it stupid to wait at a light when nothing was coming, but then there’s always the chance a car would come out of the blue and hit him broadside. And when he stepped off the curb, sure enough a taxi careened around the corner. He jumped back to the sidewalk and found his answer.

  He didn’t care.

  He didn’t care if she didn’t love him. He didn’t care if today and tomorrow were all the time they had in the world. All he cared about was she had come back. She had taken the last two and a half years and folded the empty space to link them back together, as good as uninterrupted. She had given him, he was giving her, a second chance. How many people got that? And if she left tomorrow, if she took her suitcase and his heart with her back to Washington, he also knew something else—he would survive. He would survive because he had lived to try again, and that was the best he could hope for in this out-of-control world.

  Suddenly he felt light, lighter than he had ever been. He looked across the street and there was a store just turning the lights on—women’s clothing, he could see. He looked up and the stoplight changed. Lights, lights, lights. He trotted across, smiling, weightless, ethereal, pick up a thesaurus and point. He went to the door. It was locked. There was a woman behind the counter, waving him off, pointing to her watch. “We open at nine. Sorry.”

  Doug folded his hands in supplication. “Oh please. Today’s our anniversary, and I didn’t get my wife a thing. I can’t go home until I do. Please!”

  The look on her face told him she was wary. Why should she open the door to a complete stranger, blathering about anniversaries at barely eight o’clock on a Saturday morning? He reached into his pocket. “Look,” he said, pressing his shield up against the glass, “I’m a Camden police officer. One who’s in a real bind. I’ll make it worth your while. I swear.” Then he flashed his lethal Welland smile, a bit of a trump card known to
leave more than a few women fairly helpless. She smiled back. And opened the door.

  Ten minutes later he was on the street, clutching two bags, three hundred dollars lighter. Back at the hotel he picked up the house phone and ordered a full breakfast for two. And coffee, lots and lots of coffee. A minute more and he was back at the room, shoving the keycard in the door.

  When he walked in the room was empty.

  “Gina!” he screamed.

  She poked her head from the bathroom. “Jesus, Doug! What?”

  He dropped the bags, rushing to her. He didn’t think—he couldn’t think. He just took her in his arms and crushed her against him, kissing her over and over again.

  Gina laughed, holding her arms out, her hands white with lotion. Finally she just gave up and swiped them down her hotel-supplied robe, wrapping her arms around him. “Wow, that’s some welcome. I can’t imagine what’d happen if you left me for a full hour.”

  He held her out. “It’s just that you were, and I— Oh hell.” He kissed her again.

  “I’m all right. Doug. Doug!” She pushed him back, holding him by the shoulders. “Doug, sweetie, please.” She pressed his hand to her cheek and whispered, “I’m all right. Really I am.” She kissed his palm. “See?”

  He exhaled, pulling her to him. He still wasn’t sure whether she was all right or not. But he was, at least for now.

  * * * * *

  9:37 A.M.

  Gina turned around, checking the slitted skirt in the mirror. “This looks great!” She turned back, cocking a hip. “Who would’ve thought? My little Doug, my own metrosexual fashion dude.”

  He spread his legs, leaning back in the chair. “I had some help.”

  “Now don’t be modest,” she said, sliding into his lap. She adjusted the cashmere sweater on her shoulder. “I love the panties too. So I’m back to wearing them?”

  He snorted, dropping a hand to her knee. “Well, they looked—”

  “Sexy?” she finished. “That’s okay. It’s always a lot of fun getting them off.” Her BlackBerry chimed. She leaned over the end table and grabbed it. “That’s Jack. Finally.” She switched it to speaker. “Jack. It’s about time. I’ve been calling you all morning.”