"Hold on, hold on, hold on." I call as I pull a t-shirt over my head and struggle into some pajama pants. I'm doing all this as I slide toward the door. I just rinsed off in a shower. My skin is still damp, so it isn't exactly easy to wriggle into the cotton clothes.
"Open up, NYPD," the pounding continues. My breath freezes in my chest. I stand on the inside of my door not certain what to do. "We know you're home, we talked to your super. Now do us a favor Ms. Williams – just answer your door."
I take a deep breath and do as the voice commands, cautiously opening my door. "Um," I stammer, "could you um, tell me what's going on?" I ask, trying hard to keep my expression cool, neutral.
"Yeah," the tall detective on my doorstep grumbles. I look around the hallway and don't see any other police present. "Why'd you take so damn long to open the door?" He steps into my place, picking me up in his arms. As he walks me backward across the floor, he kicks my door closed with his left foot.
"I was in the shower, detective," I smile, giggling as he tickles my ribs. He's also kissing me along my neck, ticking me with his tongue behind my ear.
"A shame you spent all that energy getting dressed," he murmurs. He sets me back onto my feet, stripping off my pants first and my t-shirt next.
"A terrible shame," I reply. I go to work on his shirt and then his belt. I watch him toss his weapon and badge onto a nearby table. Badge number 4376. Easy to remember, same as my phone number.
"So detective, I thought you weren't going to show." We're in my bed, I'm on my side propped on my elbow, using my free hand to trace delicate lines across his chest, his ribs - my turn to tickle him. I watch him smile, struggling to suppress the urge to squirm away from my feathery touch.
"Is that why you took a shower without me?" He looks at me, trying his best to keep his deep set brown eyes serious.
"I'd given up on you," I continue to glide my fingers along his skin, trying to get him to laugh, but he's still master of his senses.
"Don't ever give up on me, Evie," he grabs me softly, quickly flipping me over onto my back.
"Seriously Bobby," I say, concerned about all the over time hours he's been keeping. He's explained to me before that Narcotics isn't exactly a day job, but in the few months we've been seeing each other he usually manages to at least tag me by phone if he's going to be late. These past two weeks, my phone has been strangely silent and he's gotten in the habit of simply showing up.
"Same case, we're coming close…" he mumbles through the kisses his raining across my collar bone. I close my eyes, but I don't let him off the hook that easily.
"Minaya," I say the drug dealers name, I remember Bobby mentioning it in passing.
"Yeah, Minaya. We've got him, as long as Homicide doesn't screw it up," he runs his thumbs down my sides, moving them up and swiftly underneath my breasts. My brain manages to barely string together what he's just said. It explains his wild hours. Narcotics is trying to get the jump on Homicide, to get the bust on their sheet instead of letting Homicide take the credit.
"And for now, I've got you," I use my weight to roll him over onto his back, straddling his lean hips. "You have the right to remain silent," I whisper as I lean forward to softly kiss him. I can feel his lips smile beneath mine.