by Kara Parker
Olivia knew what long-term prison sentences could do to people. It could destroy them. She kept replaying their conversation in the trailer over and over again in her mind. Remembering how they had been close enough to kiss, and wondering what would have happened if he had closed that gap between them. Olivia leaned back in her chair; she didn’t want to have to send David to jail. She wanted to keep him out of it, but how? And was that really her job?
Olivia turned off her computer monitor and massaged her eyes. When she had been in the academy, they had emphasized right over wrong. They had made it seem so simple. Just follow the law; the law is right, and anyone who breaks the law is wrong. But now that she was out on the street she saw that it wasn’t that simple. There were people who had been left behind; people who had done time and seen it ruin their lives. David didn’t seem like a bad guy; he seemed like a guy who was doing his job, and probably doing it well.
Take a deep breath, Olivia, she said to herself. You are not going to lose everything because you stood next to some hot guy in a trailer once. There’s no need to tell the detectives about David yet. If even one more thing happens with him though, Olivia knew she would have to tell them. So there she was, sitting at her desk, both praying for and dreading another meeting with David Creely.
CHAPTER TWELVE
David wouldn’t say that he was stalking Olivia Waters, that wouldn’t be accurate. After that first night he hadn’t spied on her in her house or followed her again. Not that he didn’t want to, but she knew him now; she’d be on the lookout for him. But he also knew where she hung out, where she liked to go. If he happened to be there when she was there, well, that was just a coincidence, nothing more.
So, as the sun set on a Friday night, David made his way to The Gray Lamp. He had showered and dressed, taking a moment to tame his hair, shave, and change into a clean shirt and jeans. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen that night. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to have happen. He just wanted to see her again. He wanted to talk to her and convince her that he was trying to help.
In his entire thirty years on the planet, David Creely had never once been on a real date. He had never done all the normal things other guys did, asking a woman for her number, meeting at a bar, having those awkward first date conversations where you decide if you really like the other person. His life wasn’t like that. No, David had never done the dating thing, but that didn’t mean he was unpracticed. His life was filled with women who came, spent their time, and then left. Sisters, cousins, daughters of club members would appear one day and hang around for a few weeks or even a few months before they left to go visit a friend in Miami or an uncle in Philadelphia and were never seen again.
David had his share of romances but nothing real, nothing concrete. He had yet to find a woman he could depend on. Wasn’t that the whole point of being in a relationship, always knowing the other person would be there? He didn’t know what would become of Olivia Waters, if she planned on leaving or if Marina’s Crest was where she planned to spend her life, but the only way he would know was if he asked.
He parked his bike in the lot and entered the bar as darkness fell outside, bringing a delicious coolness with it. Olivia was already there, an empty bar stool next to her. David would never in a million years have guessed that she was a cop. Wearing a pair of short black shorts and a green tank top, she looked like a college student. Her pixie cut hair was loose on her head and she wore only a little bit of makeup. Without thinking or hesitating, David walked up and sat down on the barstool next to her.
For a moment, he could tell that she didn’t recognize him. Her back arched and a snarl appeared on her face. She was clearly tired of men trying to pick her up at a bar. David ignored her, settling into his seat and waiting for her to notice. A full minute passed before she bothered to glance in his direction. He watched, as her long, swan-like neck turned towards him and her eyes flicked to his face, and then recognition hit and her jaw fell open as she stared at him in shock. She recovered quickly though, closing her mouth, grabbing her beer, and taking a deep swig before finally speaking to him.
“Come to offer me another bribe, David?” she asked, her eyes glued to the TV, which was currently airing an old episode of Jeopardy.
“I’ve have never in my life offered you a bribe, Officer Waters. I’m just here to grab a drink.” He ordered from the bartender and sat quietly next to her. She turned to look at him, appraising him with her dark eyes. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Her long, thin arms were propped up at the bar, and her fingers were playing over the cracks and crevices in the old wood. Her hand movements were intoxicating, dedicated and sure. It was too easy to imagine them doing something else, something wicked and far more fun.
“There’s plenty of open seats. Why did you sit in this one?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. He wanted to kiss that shoulder. He wanted to bite and kiss his way across her shoulder and up her neck until his lips were on hers. Maybe coming to this bar was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t open himself up to this kind of temptation. But who was he kidding, he wanted to be this close to her; he wanted to be within reach of her. He thought back to Hillary’s ugly old trailer and what could have happened if he had leaned forward and kissed her. A black eye would have probably been the result, but it might have been worth it.
“Because, you’re the only other person in this bar that I know. I thought it would be rude to ignore you,” David answered.
She looked at him again. Those dark eyes were like a sensor, pouring over his face, trying to read something in his expression. David tried to keep his face as calm and still as possible, trying to hide the want that was bubbling up inside of him.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked. “Something about the club....”
“No,” David said with a chuckle. “Is it always going to be this way between us, officer? Is it always going to be work, work, work?”
“What else could it possibly be,” she asked. She looked at him as she said that, and he saw in her eyes a flash of something—hope, desire? Was it possible that she was attracted to him, as well? Did she also wonder at what could have been?
“Let me buy you a drink and we can find out,” David offered.
“Ha! A gang member buying me a drink. The brass would love that.”
“Let’s consider it community outreach then,” David said, motioning for the bartender. “Two shots of Jameson, and another round for me and the officer here.” Olivia didn’t argue with him; it looked like she was arguing with herself—going back and forth, deciding what she wanted to do. When the shots came, they cheered and took them in one big gulp.
“So, tell me Officer Waters, what brings you to Marina’s Crest?” David asked. His research had showed she was a transplant, but no reason for her move had been given.
“I grew up in Ohio. It’s nice there but cold, and I hate the cold. I love the heat. I’ve always wanted to live in the desert. So after the academy, I put in for a position in a bunch of different towns in the southwest and Marina’s Crest was the first one with an opening. What about you?”
“Born and raised,” David answered, raising his glass and tipping it to the Marina’s Crest all around him. “I’ve lived in some other places, other towns and bigger cities. But I would spend all of my time comparing it to here. I would compare the weather, the streets, the prices of things, and everything always came up short compared to Marina’s Crest. I would be sad every time I left and happy every time I came back. After a while, I started to wonder why I was leaving at all.”
“Why were you leaving?” Olivia asked.
“Work mostly. I have my GED but no real interest in college. It took me a while to find my feet.”
“And you found your feet in a gang?” Olivia asked.
“It’s a club, not a gang,” David answered. “And yes, the club took care of me. They helped me find work, find a place to live, and get my act together. The club tau
ght me about leadership and being a man. It taught me to grow up and to think about things beyond myself. It’s a shame that the police and the club are on opposite sides. It doesn’t have to be like that. There are plenty of towns where the clubs and the cops work together to keep the neighborhood safe.”
“Do you really think you keep the neighborhood safe?” Olivia asked. “Don’t you think it would be safer if there were less drugs on the street?”
“I think that’s a fantasy. People don’t do drugs just because it’s presented to them. They seek them out. There’s a certain kind of person who needs that fix, and if someone won’t sell it to them, they’ll find another, usually more violent and dangerous, way to get them. Then, they get caught and put in jail, and they get out and do the same thing. We could pay for treatment instead of prison, but you know the taxpayers aren’t going to go for that. They want to lock every last junkie up, even though it only makes the problem worse.” Olivia sat back in her chair, not fully agreeing with him but not arguing with him either.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about work,” she said, giving him a familiar smile.
“I agree,” David said. “Barkeep! Two more shots, please.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Olivia Waters was getting rather tipsy. That shouldn’t have been an issue. She had walked to the bar, and so she didn’t need to think about driving home. It was a Friday night and she had the next day off. She should have been free and clear to drink the night away—until David Creely had sat down next to her and started buying them both shots. Until he had shown up looking as handsome as possible and being far more charming than he had any right to be. He kept holding his beer in one hand and looking down to the floor when she said something that made him smile. He would look down, and then when he looked back up at her, he had this smile on his face that was slowly melting her formerly strong resolve.
He made her laugh. He was telling some story about a man, his motorcycle, and an armadillo, and Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. She told him about one of her first trips on patrol when she had spent forty-five minutes trying to convince a panhandler to put some pants on unless he wanted to be charged with indecent exposure. But the man just laughed at her threats, ran a few feet away, and shook his bare ass at her before begging for change all over again.
They were incredibly different, but so similar at the same time. It became a game of weights in Olivia’s head. He was a criminal; she was a cop—but they found the same things funny. They liked to do the same sorts of things; they had similar tastes in music and television. She didn’t know which one of the things was supposed to matter more. She wanted them to cancel each other out and leave David and her even—to see where their flirtations would lead them.
Last call came upon them with a great surprise. They ordered one last drink and talked until the bar turned the lights on and sent them out into the night.
“Did you drive?” David asked her. “Because you should not be driving now.”
“No, I walked,” Olivia answered. Once outside she closed her eyes and breathed in that desert smell. She never regretted moving down here. She loved the weather and the look of the place, the large empty spaces that went on for miles in every direction.
“Can I walk you home?” David asked.
“As long as you promise that this isn’t some elaborate hit on me,” Olivia answered with a wan smile.
“No offense, Officer Waters. But that seems like a lot of work to go through for a beat cop.”
“Fair enough. And you should call me Olivia,” she answered, walking towards her apartment a little unsteady on her feet. David matched her pace, walking casually by her, his long legs easily keeping up. His hands were jammed in his pockets, and his eyes were on the expanse of sky above them. Stars as far as the eye could see. They’d traveled through the deep reaches of space solely, it seemed, to add an ambience to the evening walk.
The streets around them were silent and empty, only the occasional car drove past, appearing and disappearing quietly. The night was cool, and Olivia enjoyed the feeling of the cool air as it poured over her shoulders, down her back, and over her bare legs. She looked over at David and found that he was looking at her, a mischievous grin on his face. For the last few hours she had been able to forget that she was a cop and he a gang member. She had gotten to know the man behind the bike, and she had liked what she found.
“Well, this is me,” she said, gesturing to her tall building. David stood in front of her and then took a step closer until he was less than a foot away. It was their meeting in Hillary’s trailer all over again. Except they weren’t in some gross trailer. They were outside on a beautiful night with a thousand stars all above them.
And unlike the trailer, David didn’t hesitate or second-guess himself. He leaned forward and kissed Olivia gently, placing his lips on her for just a second. He waited for her to hit him or kick him, but instead, she leaned forward and kissed him back.
David’s hands came up and wrapped around Olivia, caressing her back. His tongue slipped between her lips and met hers, and he pulled her even closer against him. Her hands were on his arms, and she bit gently on his lower lip, and David groaned in response.
Finally, she pulled away from him and then looked up into his eyes. “Is this all some trick to kill me, or discredit me or something?” she asked.
“No,” David answered, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I want you.”
Olivia wanted him, too. She desperately wanted him. She hadn’t ever met a man like this, one so confident and handsome. She knew it was a bad idea, but at that moment, she didn’t care. No one would ever have to know. She pulled herself free of David’s arms and opened the door to her apartment building. She looked back at him, as she opened the door and motioned for him to follow.
In the elevator, they picked up right where they had left off. David’s mouth was on hers, their tongues mingling, and his hands moving up and down her body. They quickly walked to her door, and she undid the locks and ushered him inside her dark apartment. He kissed her again the second they were inside; his hands and mouth were desperate now. Finally, she pulled away from him and motioned for David to sit on the couch.
She stood in front of him, her skin glistening with sweat, as she reached down and undid the strap on her right sandal and then the left, stepping out of her shoes. She glanced up at David and saw that he was watching her, not leering, watching. With great dedication and all of his attention, he was watching her. Olivia’s heart began to pound; it was too much being under that gaze of his.
She reached down and undid the top button of her shorts and then slid the zipper down. She slid her shorts over her hips, and they fell to the ground in a pool at her feet, exposing the pink panties she was wearing underneath. Then, she reached underneath her shirt and unclasped her bra, pulling her arms free of the straps and then letting that fall as well so she was standing in front of David in nothing but her thin tank top and a pair of panties.
He reached forward and put his hand on her hip, pulling her forward. She was right in front of him when she became aware that she had no idea what was going to happen. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but she desperately wanted to know. He brought his mouth to her hip and kissed her there. She could feel the press of his lips against her sensitive skin, and she shuddered from the contact.
He brought his hands up to her arms and then pulled her down until she was on her knees in front of him, kneeling between his legs. She reached up and tugged at his shirt, and he pulled it over his head revealing his well-toned body. His hands had reached up under her shirt and were grabbing and caressing her breasts. Wordlessly, Olivia brought her hand up and ran it over his torso, running her fingernails up and down the length of him, stopping just when she reached his belt.
There was a sudden loss, as he pulled his hands off of her breasts.
“Come here,” he said, leaning back. Olivia stood up and
then brought her legs up on either side of him, straddling him on her couch. He put his hand under her chin and guided her mouth to his. His lips were dry, but his tongue tasted like whiskey as he kissed her gently at first, one peck, then another. And then it grew more intense as his tongue found hers, and his arms wrapped against her, pulling her tight against him as they kissed deeply. Olivia felt her body begin to grind against David’s. She could feel his erection through his pants, and he moaned when she brushed against it.
He relaxed his grip and pulled away from her, grabbing her shirt, pulling it over her head, throwing it somewhere in the room. He began to kiss her neck—biting, sucking, and licking his way down and over her shoulder. Olivia’s skin felt like it was on fire; his every touch was so pleasurable. His hands and legs and mouth were all working together so well that it was almost unbearable.
Olivia gasped for breath and pulled away from him, but he wasn't ready to let her go. His hand was on the back of her neck, and he pulled her close to him and whispered, “I want you,” as his other hands worked its way underneath her panties and began to stroke her lightly.