Authors: Tamara Larson
“Sorry, black humor comes with the job. Coming to my place is definitely a dumb thing to do. Let’s just meet somewhere crowded and well lit. I know just the place,”
Duncan
said, sounding genuinely excited about seeing her again.
“No, I’d really like to come to your place. As long as you promise not to add me to your list of victims.” Jessie couldn’t believe she was actually bantering with him. She thought she sounded very cool, and worldly, like she made dates with studly detectives everyday.
“Really? That’s great. How about Lasagna and my killer garlic bread at my place tonight?
Around Eight?”
“Killer? Why killer?”
“’Cause I actually killed a man by breathing on him the last time I made it.”
It was a corny line, but it made Jessie laugh anyway. “That sounds just wonderful, Detective.”
“
Duncan
. Now that we’re officially eating together, I think you should call me by my name.”
“Okay.
Duncan
. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll keep my eyes open for Theresa in the mean time.”
“Me too. I’m actually multi-tasking right now: searching for her and walking the dog. By the way, bring that book along. It seems to me you still owe me a lesson.”
After writing down
Duncan
’s address on her muffin bag with a grease pencil from the condiments counter, Jessie hung up the pay phone and leaned against the brick wall. The old couple at the nearest table gave her a curious look, but she just smiled back at them. She had a date tonight with a man who both excited her and made her laugh. Amazing what a difference a phone call could make, she thought to herself. She’d gone from hopeless virgin spinster to dating machine in just five short minutes.
*****
Duncan
stared at the cell phone in his hand and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it could be that easy. That gorgeous, sweet, intelligent woman had actually called and asked him out.
He’d been sitting on a bench in the park, repetitively throwing a tattered orange tennis ball for
Hannibal
when she’d called. Thinking about taking a detour toward her store on the pretense of asking her some more questions. He’d been completely shocked when he’d heard her soft, anxious voice.
Duncan
wondered if he should have brought up the Victorian erotica again. What if she actually thought he wanted some kind of history lesson? He imagined sitting through a PowerPoint presentation with an enormous hard-on, while she droned on about the mating habits of Victorian nymphomaniacs. He hoped fervently that she had something more physically satisfying in mind. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing her again.
He knew he shouldn’t even be thinking about going on a date when his sister was missing, but he’d been searching for Theresa practically non-stop for the past two weeks. And found nothing. He’d talked to every contact he had, retraced his path a hundred times, and interviewed countless homeless people and prostitutes. Theresa’s picture had been shown to all of them.
Before talking to Jessie this morning, he’d thought perhaps his theory was wrong. Maybe Theresa hadn’t come to
Vancouver
after all. If nothing tangible had turned up by the end of the week, he’d been preparing to take some time off and go to
Calgary
to look for the runaway.
Now that he knew Theresa actually was here, all he had to do was wait for her to show up again. A few hours with a beautiful woman wasn’t going to make a difference, he told himself. Besides, this might be his only chance with the lovely bookstore owner. If he rejected her now, he probably wouldn’t get another opportunity. Women like her were rare, and he didn’t want to blow it. He would go out looking for Theresa after Jessie left. He wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise.
Duncan
looked affectionately at the poodle.
Hannibal
was sitting directly in front of him with his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth and the orange ball at his feet, waiting impatiently for
Duncan
to throw the ball again.
“Come on, boy,” he said enthusiastically to the dog, “we’ve got to get to the deli and buy some lasagna and garlic bread. We have a hot date tonight, and Kraft dinner just won’t cut it.”
Hannibal
barked at the energetic tone
Duncan
was using and got up, wagging his rather tattered pom-pom tail in excitement.
Chapter
6
Jessie examined the address she’d written down on her muffin bag again. This couldn’t be right, she thought, looking up at the shiny, luxury apartment building that corresponded with the numbers on the scrap in her hand. There was no way a cop lived in a place like this—especially not on the fortieth floor overlooking the harbor and the park. A tiny elderly woman held the double glass doors to the lobby open for her and she walked in with a smile and a whispered “Thanks.”
The lobby was even more intimidating. Jessie stared at the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. It was nearly the size of an elephant. Large, dark, but not terribly comfortable looking antique furniture lined the walls, and there was a hushed, almost mausoleum feel to the place.
She walked to the elevator and pushed the button, starting to feel wildly nervous. She was excited, but also a little scared. She really didn’t know what to expect tonight. Would they actually sit down and start discussing Victorian erotica over a quiet dinner or would he just take her in his arms and ravage her? She’d brought a few books from their collection, but she hoped she wouldn’t need them. She was so nervous she didn’t think she could eat anyway.
This afternoon, after making the date with
Duncan
, Jessie had returned to work and tried to act as casual as possible. For some reason, she didn’t want to Clay to know what she’d done. She didn’t even call Jamie and let her in on the big news. The two of them would just make her more nervous with their suggestions and tips on how to act and what to do. Besides, she was enjoying keeping something to herself for a change.
Clay had looked at her suspiciously when she’d come back with his coffee wearing a huge smile, but hadn’t questioned her. Just watched her humming to herself over her endless boxes of books, and shook his head, mumbling something about PMS and mood swings. When Jessie told him she was leaving at five instead of her usual seven or eight o’clock, he’d just waved at her from his usual perch on the desk where he was making evening plans over the phone with his current boyfriend, Travis. Jessie was glad for the distraction. There was no way she’d have gotten out of there without spilling her guts if Clay hadn’t been so focused on flirting with Travis.
Jessie had walked home to her second floor apartment on the corner of Thurlow and Alberni, smiling at strangers, and contemplating her wardrobe. What did one wear to be ravished? She had no idea. She was tempted to call Jamie. Her sister would know exactly what ensemble was appropriate for an occasion like this.
When she got home, she took a bubble bath in her white, claw-footed tub, hoping it would help her relax. Lying in the hot, vanilla-scented water, she thought about the evening ahead and felt desire trickle through her lower belly. She imagined how he would look at her and what it would be like if he joined her here in the tub. The thought of rubbing soap into his muscled torso, and licking droplets of moisture from his neck made her feel restless and uncomfortably hot.
Jessie left the tub on shaky legs, and put on her fluffy, blue terry clothe robe. She went to her cherry wood dresser and opened the top drawer. On top was the cotton underwear she wore everyday, but underneath was her stash of overpriced, mostly unworn, lingerie. She picked up a soft peach camisole and matching silk panties. Would he like something elegant like this, or should she go for the black lace thong and push-up bra? Thinking of her full bottom, Jessie opted for the more modest style.
She slipped off the robe, pulled on the peach lingerie set, and walked over to the full-length mirror by her blue and white plaid bed in what she thought was a slinky manner. The effect wasn’t bad. The high-cut of the panties made her pale legs look long and elegant, and she could just see the outline of her dark nipples through the camisole. She brushed a finger over her right breast and it immediately beaded against the silky camisole. Cupping the entire full breast in her hand, she remembered how it had felt that afternoon to be touched just that way by
Duncan
. She groaned and shook her head to be rid of these thoughts. What had he done to her? She was turning into a complete nympho!
As for clothing, Jessie was stuck. She didn’t own a single sexy thing. She dressed for comfort, not style. Glaring at her closet, she wondered why she’d never bought anything with seduction in mind. It was almost like she wanted to be ignored by men. Why else would all her clothing be two sizes too big, and mostly beige? Jessie pulled out a white eyelet sleeveless blouse and skirt. It doesn’t exactly scream seductress, she thought, but at least it’s not gigantic and ugly.
After putting on the blouse and skirt, Jessie sat at her vanity and contemplated her hair. Up or down? He seemed to like it down, but it would be a Ronald McDonald fright wig by the time she walked to his place. Up is more practical, she thought, besides, maybe if I put it up, he’d be tempted to take it down again. She quickly knotted the mass of hair into a chignon at the back of her neck and looked at the kitty-cat clock on the bureau. She had just enough time to take a few deep breaths, and make it to
Duncan
’s place by eight.
A half hour later, Jessie knocked on
Duncan
’s apartment door timidly. There wasn’t any answer. She tried again with a little more force and was rewarded by the sound of barking and
Duncan
’s voice saying, “Come on, Han, give me a break.” The door opened and he was standing there smiling at her. That smile was so beautiful; he was so beautiful that for a moment Jessie couldn’t say anything. She just stared and smiled back at him.
Hannibal
chose that moment to enthusiastically shove his nose into her crotch.
Jessie jumped back with an embarrassing squeal.
“Where are your manners?”
Duncan
said to the dog, grabbing him by the collar, and holding him back gently. “Don’t you know it’s not polite to do that until you’re asked?”
Duncan
led the dog back to the patio doors and gently nudged him out onto the balcony. He threw a bone out after the poodle and came back to Jessie. “I’m so sorry Jessie. What can I say? He’s a barbarian. Kind of like me. But I’m better trained than he is, I swear. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.” He reached out to her and pulled her into the apartment, tugging gently on both of her hands. “You look great.”
He was smiling at her again, and Jessie thought about forgetting the polite conversation and launching herself into his arms. He was so much more boyish and approachable when he wasn’t working. For the first time, she thought about what might happen tomorrow, after they’d make love.
Like many women, Jessie had always dreamed of a long courtship, followed by sweet, respectful sex eventually, but what happened when the sex came first? Was there a possibility for more between them, after their one-night stand? He was so gorgeous, so masculine and exciting, why would he be interested in a wallflower like her? Jessie vowed right then not to let her heart get involved. This was about sex and losing her virginity—nothing more—no matter how sweet, and funny he was, she couldn’t let herself start imagining this was anything more than a physical act.
Duncan
was wearing jeans again and a dark blue, button-down,
Henley
shirt that molded to his muscular arms and shoulders. His hair was dry now, but still as dark as a moonless night. She thought his eyes were the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. They were such a vivid blue that on another person she would suspect they were contact lenses.
The apartment itself was almost as incredible. The entire far wall was made mostly of glass. She could actually see the harbor itself from where she stood in the entranceway. The front door where she stood, opened into a high-ceilinged room that combined a huge living area with a fireplace at one end, and a dining area with a long, glass dining table big enough for twelve at the other.
Jessie took off her white sandals and nudged them to the edge of the island of ceramic tile around the entrance. She stepped onto the dark blue area rug and noticed that one end of the dining room table was set with two place settings. Several tall white candles in candlesticks adorned the middle of the dark surface. There were even some white roses floating in a crystal bowl.
She finally regained the power of speech and said, “
Duncan
, this place is just beautiful. Can you give me a tour?”
“How about after dinner? I’ve got some great wine I’d like you to try.”
Duncan
said, gesturing with one hand toward the living area. She squeezed his hand, and pulled away, hypnotized by the view.