Friday night…
I looked past the crowd of people filling Enrique’s dance floor and saw a table of blue awaiting me. Troy’s hand waved frantically in the air to get my attention. As I looked at my table of blue, and at the man I made incredible love to, I noticed yet another thing…his other arm around Daisha Miller’s shoulder.
What the hell was I supposed to do, stand there in the middle of a crowded dance floor and pray that Daisha would just go away? That had been my original plan, but from the look on Daisha’s face, she was there to stay, and there to get wrapped up in as much of Troy Davenport as legally allowed in a public place. It sickened me watching her swirl her glass of DiSaronno as though it were a fine brandy. Everyone around the precinct knew that was her drink because she reeked of it. Everyone also knew DiSaronno meant “of Saronno, Italy,” somewhere we all wished Daisha would take a hike to. God only knew how everyone at the table could stand an evening out with her. They did it for Troy’s sake and so did I. I stiffened my jaw, flattened my skirt and slowly walked over to brave the cold chill Daisha would surely blow my way if Troy as much as looked at me once. And he surely would.
Every male at the table stood to greet me, Troy being the first. “Hey girl, glad you could make it. You know everyone around here, Dan Schultz, Arnold Jenkins, Robert and his wife Jean, Tangi, Albert, Ryan—”
“I know everyone, Troy, remember, I work on Beaubien Street as well.” I looked over at Daisha, seeing the makings of a smug look ready and waiting to attack me, but I was cool, calm and ready to take on anything—as well as take on Troy and have a blast of an evening with a man I was falling hard for. My hand stretched in Daisha’s direction. “Captain Miller, it’s nice to see you again.”
She tipped her glass and remained quiet, ignoring my hand, as was her style. Troy and I exchanged a quick glance, knowing from that point on the air would be thick with emotion, remembering what we talked about regarding her and also with what we did in the basement of headquarters. That’s what had kept me going for the past day or two, remembering the feel of his tight, muscular body across mine; feeling his strength between my thighs, hearing him tell me that he would never let anything hurt me. I could still feel his power, the essence of it as he moved through me, riding me, overpowering me, making me feel like a real woman for the first time in my twenty-seven years on earth.
I had to keep it to myself before Daisha smelled him in my thoughts like the sonar I knew she had on her insect exterior. Yes, Daisha had sonar attached to the antennae on her forehead. That was a common joke around the department when I started, that she could smell the scent of a woman in the pores of her man. At the time, as I was laughing, assuming it was true, I hadn’t any idea at the time that her man was Troy. Go figure. But I wanted Troy, wanted him enough to try and pull him away from her. I had a good start, and that was for damn sure! We had shared not only sex, but desire, tension, emotion, all the things that a new couple were supposed to share.
To break the ice, Troy broke into the chatter at the table. “Tracey, order anything you like. This round of drinks is on me.”
“Watch it there. I’ve been known to get expensive stuff.”
His eyes twinkled in such a seductive manner, one that told me he understood the connotations. “I can handle that, Miss Shane. Besides, the next round is on Robert—go crazy when ordering. He’s used to abuse.”
I ordered a Long Island iced tea—anything to make me dull, and null and void to the idea of Daisha Miller stroking Troy’s inner thighs. I guess that was her way of trying to get in good with him again. I was hoping it wouldn’t have worked.
Amongst the laughter, talking and all-around good times, Daisha sat there like a bump on a log taking drink after drink from Troy’s wallet. Maybe it was his point to get her plastered so he could feel free with me. Maybe it was Daisha’s plan as well. She hated the looks I was constantly getting from all the men at the table, even from Robert who was there with his wife. I couldn’t help it, and I’m glad to admit that I don’t look like a five-foot-three-inch version of Dracula. Though Daisha probably assumed I was drinking Troy’s blood straight from the jugular. How wrong. His blood wasn’t what I wanted. Men found me sexy and that was a plus in my life.
The only man I was really interested in, however, had his arm around the one woman too stubborn to give me a compliment about anything from the way I dress to the expert way I do my work. One compliment from her would blow down her house of cards. I was there to have a good time and not worry about Daisha Miller for once in my life.
As the evening wore on, I got my share of dances from the men at my table and even a couple of strangers who actually asked permission from everyone in my company. I noticed how Troy would inspect them, making sure they would return me safely to him, though I hadn’t had one dance with him. That was the only thing that made Daisha smile halfway. He was still in her arms, but why was still a mystery to me. That was the only thing in life I could envy her for. I had a part of him, though, a part she would never know about until he left her, if he ever would.
There came a point in the evening when my dance card was empty and I was alone at the table, with the exception of Allister, who danced with no one. The ultimate dance song for lovers came on and there I was alone with Allister. Where were my strangers when I needed one? Even Troy took to the floor with Daisha once Aretha Franklin’s “Until You Come Back to Me” lit up the sound system. I wanted so badly to be in his arms, to be the one his hands were caressing, feeling his huge erection parting my legs as he glided me across the floor. Nothing doing. I sipped my iced tea and kept my eyes glued to the table. No way in hell did I want to see the king of my domain touching another woman, even though he had been married to her for years.
When I finally looked up from my drink, Troy’s eyes were on me. He had purposely turned Daisha’s back so he could see me, smile and wink his dazzling eyes at me. It made me feel that I had won anyway, whether Daisha was dancing with him or not. His heart wasn’t on the dance floor, but at the table with me. My heart soared.
As he danced with her, hugging her tightly in his arms I watched, remembering the basement of 1300 Beaubien fondly, for once. I wanted more of it, needed to feel Troy’s body inside of me, his heart locking with mine. Instead of getting what I really wanted, I ordered another drink. Getting pissy drunk was my only salvation until I was back in central files on Monday morning with Troy Davenport on top of me.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait for Monday. Another ultimate lover’s song came on. Each time I heard that song on the radio, it gave me chills, sexual chills that made me want to get up and slow dance alone or with whoever it was next to me at the time. Thankfully, the person at my side was Troy. He had pulled me onto the floor the minute the DJ put it on. The look Daisha gave us as we walked off could have melted iron. I didn’t care. Troy was soon to be back in my arms and that was all that mattered in my life at that time. Dealing with Daisha, if I had to, would be on Monday through Friday, nine to five and nothing more. The weekends were mine.
Not lowering the lights for a romantic song would have been sacrilege, so naturally, the lights lowered. It was so dark I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face. I liked it that way. What I liked even more was Troy whispering in my ear. “I requested this song for us.”
“You did? That was sweet, but what about Daisha? She looked at us as if we had committed mass murder.”
“Forget her for now. This song is ours.”
I moved closer into his well-tuned body, feeling the heat of his badge pressing against my upper chest—metal to hot, boiling metal—and it excited me. Still, Daisha was in the back of my mind, waving her finger at me in a hood-rat manner. I spoke quietly into Troy’s ear. “We may take some heat for this.”
“We’re cool. Don’t worry about it.”
“Why don’t you tell her you want your divorce?”
“Tracey.”
“Yes, Troy?”
“I d
on’t want to talk about Daisha when this song is on. Listen to how smooth it is, how melodic, how sensual. This is not a Daisha song, it’s a Tracey Shane song.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just relax with me like you did the other day. Wasn’t that incredible?”
“Yes, like now.” I moved into him, swaying my hips to his, feeling his body so eager to press itself against me and work miracles. The hotter Troy got, the more my hands stroked his taut shoulders, feeling his muscles, relishing in them. His hair felt so good against my fingers, and his lips—smooth as silk as they secretly caressed my neck. It was nothing but love from that point on.
His hands stroked my tight derriere during the entire song, feeling every skin cell. I bet he knew exactly what size panties I wore. In the dark, you can do that and find out about anything; you can live out an entire lifetime. When the lights come back on, reality quickly tells you who your lover really belongs to. That’s why I love the night. You can be whoever you want to be.
The current song stopped serenading us, but the lights remained off, making way for the Platters’ “Magic Touch.” He had the magic touch, all right, and he showed it to me by granting me a tongue kiss so magnetic and irresistible that I melted into him. What the hell? It was dark anyway, and no one who mattered could see us. We took advantage of the time we had and made the moment last.
Troy finally broke the kiss, talking rather slowly as if mesmerized by my very touch. “We’d…we’d better get back to the table before—”
“Before Daisha gets suspicious?”
“Yes.”
“I would sure love to be free with you one day, Troy. Will that ever be possible?”
He looked deeply into my eyes. “I think that day is almost here.”
“Then does that mean we can go to your apartment and be alone instead of living out our fantasies at the station?”
“Right now my apartment is off limits.”
That startled me, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Why, Troy?”
“Because Daisha just shows up whenever she can.”
“Can’t you stop that?”
“Give me time, baby. I promise I will make all of your dreams come true.”
I released his hand, and we slowly walked back to a half-occupied table. Everyone was still strutting to the music other than Allister, and, oh yes, Daisha. She gave us yet another gut-wrenching glare before Troy ordered her another drink. It sure took a lot of Mr. Johnny Walker Red to get her under the influence.
I left soon after that because Daisha looked as if she wanted to clean her gun—with my brains—so I fled the possible scene of the crime before one actually took place. Troy walked me to the car and took my hand before I disarmed a car that even thieves were no longer interested in.
I stared into his handsome face. “Thanks for tonight.”
“You’re very welcome. So, I take it you like Enrique’s?”
“It’s beautiful, and that DJ really plays some golden hits.”
“Yeah, Andrew is good at playing all of my favorites. Do you like the song I requested?”
“I have the Dells’ greatest hits collection, and “Stay In My Corner” is my favorite song by them. My only wish was that I could have had more dances with you. I feel so comfortable and safe in your arms.”
“You’ll always be safe with me, Tracey. And I promise we will be together one day soon at my place.”
“My place is always open for you. And I mean that. Maybe one night you can come over and listen to my collection, dance with me before a roaring fire, maybe even—”
“Make love again?”
A coy smile spread across my face like wildflowers. “If you like.”
“Are you kidding? Girl, if I stepped foot into your house, Daisha would have to burn it down to get me out of it.”
“Then let her burn it. I have homeowners’ insurance.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“A standing one, but you really should do something about Daisha if you don’t love her anymore.”
“That’s the really sad part. I used to really love her. When we first met, she was a lot of fun. We did everything together, but she was always a little on the possessive side. That concerned me.”
“I can tell she’s that way about you even now. Have you ever given her cause not to trust you…other than meeting me?”
“I’ve never laid a hand on another woman while married to Daisha until I met you. The thing about it, she got that way after getting this promotion to captain three years ago. I thought it would only take a few weeks for her to get accustomed to her new status, but I was wrong, apparently. Later in the marriage, she preferred to stay at home and clean her gun than spend time with me. She wants her attention when she wants it. My feelings never really mattered.”
“Power hungry maybe?”
“I think that’s it.”
“I can tell in your eyes that you really loved her. I’m sorry she changed on you.”
He got that dreamy look in his eyes, his voice listless. “At least I think I loved her. Maybe it was the sex.”
My stomach churned in major ways imagining her without clothes on. Get real. “Damn! Was it that good with her?”
“Not as good as yours. That was out of this world, Tracey, just like I knew it would be the minute I laid my eyes on you five months ago.”
“But you didn’t recognize me when you pulled me over.”
“I told you I lied about that. It was a ploy, and it worked.”
“Like a charm, Mr. Troy Davenport.” I kissed his lips again before getting into my Camry. In the background, I could hear another Motown classic playing and wanted to stay and dance to it. Instead, I ushered Troy off before Pyromania, Queen of the Fire People, came looking for him. “You go back inside and have fun.”
“Easy for you to say. I’ll call you when I think you’re home.”
“You don’t have my cell number.”
“Wanna bet? I toyed with your cell phone one day when you made a run to another floor. You left it on your desk.”
“I would have given you the number, Troy.”
“I know, but I love to sneak around, do silly stuff.”
“You can stop that by ditching Daisha.”
“Soon, soon. I promise. I’ll give you a half hour to get home, if that’s okay with you?”
“Anything you do to me, Troy, is okay with me.”
He tapped the roof of my car and sent me on my way to dreamland.
I lay in my bed awaiting his call, and within ten minutes, a mechanical voice singing “Tip-toe Through the Tulips” on my cellphone got my attention. “Troy?”
“You got it. I see you made it home safely.”
“I’m safe and sound, just a little tired and ready to make love to this pillow.”
“What about making love with me, in your own bed?”
“Aren’t you still at the club trying to think of ways to ditch Daisha?”
“Already ditched her. She finally got drunk so I had one of the boys take her home. Robert owed me a favor anyway.”
“Why does she like to get drunk?”
“Because she can. I don’t really know, Tracey, it could be the pressure from her job, her family. She has a mother pulling on her for money all the time.”
“That’s tight. Sorry to hear that. So, where are you?”
“In front of your house.”
I sat up quickly in bed. “You aren’t serious!”
“Very serious. What are you wearing?”
“Why not come in and see. Bring your gun, you know, the really big one.”
“It’s awfully loaded. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Get your ass in here, Troy.”
Seconds later, I flung the door open, and fell into his arms. “What is it about you that makes you so irresistible, other than a slammin’ body, good looks and stunning personality?”
“Is there anything else in l
ife?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
“Then take me to your bed and act out all your fantasies.”
“What about your fantasy?”
He pulled me closer into him. “I’m looking at her.”
He spread my robe apart, strummed his fingers from my collarbone to my pubic hair and smiled. “Now I can really see you.”
“You like what you see?”
He didn’t answer, but proceeded to kiss my naked shoulders and moved down. I held my breath in anticipation of what he was about to do to me. He stroked my slick folds, tenderly brushed against them then looked up at me with an infectious smile. “Where’s the bed?”
I couldn’t hold back on him. As soon as we entered my room, I started on his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it while he removed his tie. It slid so easily from his shoulders and down his long arms, dropping to the floor. His belt buckle and zipper moved effortlessly through my fidgety fingers. Once those restraints were diminished, I felt the oozing heat coming from his pants. Goodness, I couldn’t wait to slide my hands inside and feel him—really feel him—and in the comfort of my own bedroom, not some cold, musty basement full of criminal files.
I helped him with his boots and slid the pants from his legs. When I looked at him, my face lit like it never had before. He was amazing, finely toned, light brown muscles, tall, slender and staring back at me wearing nothing but a smile and a big erection covered by Hanes.
Troy moved into me and slid off what was left of my robe from my anxious body. His mouth parted, but words seemed to be difficult for seconds. Finally, what I had longed to hear escape a man’s mouth since I had left puberty finally graced me. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Tracey; beautiful mind, body and soul. My heart pounds for you. So do other things, as you can tell.”
My eyes followed as his looked down at an engorged covered penis aching to be free and warm inside of me, and I touched it. He was so hard, pumping without effort. I needed it. Sorry, Daisha. He was mine, at least for that night.
The Cop Page 18