OK, this took a lot longer to update than I anticipated, I apologize. I hope you still like it.

Thank you all so very much for your kind reviews, I really appreciate them. If I didn't get to thank you in person, I apologize.

A special thank you to Stayce for the edit and help and friendship

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JE

The Job

Chapter 2

Morelli sat on the rumbling washer, his arms crossed over his chest, grinning like a loon, looking like a proud 8-year-old.

I could hear water sloshing and all kinds of healthy washer sounds. He'd done it, he'd fixed it.

"You fixed it," I said, hoping my voice had enough pride for him in it.

"You sure about that?" he asked and when I looked up, he waggled his eyebrows. "Can't be certain until you take it for a test drive…"

I smiled. "What did you have in mind? Did you already put the laundry in?"

He crooked his finger in a 'Come here' gesture. "Not the kind of test I had in mind."

One look into his eyes and I knew exactly what kind of a test he was thinking about. They were the color of molten chocolate, dark with lust. If I was right, it was going to be my kind of test!

I smiled what I hoped to be a seductive smile. "Wouldn't we have to wait for the spin cycle for some good action?" I asked and slowly sashayed over to him.

My breath caught when I got closer and saw the intense heat in his eyes. He was warming me up with it in a bunch of interesting places.

"Let's see if we can make something spin before that," he said and winked at me.

He hooked his index fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me towards him, lowering his mouth to my neck.

I splayed my hands on his back and closed my eyes, enjoying the sparks his mouth on my skin sent through my body. Joe slid off the washer and wrapped his hands around my ass, lifting me up as he spun us, planting me on top of the machine.

"Works better this way around," he whispered against my skin and trailed kisses down from my ear, over my neck, until he found my mouth.

My lips parted when his tongue sought entrance and I just melted into him. Below me, the machine was gently rocking and it was a whole new kind of stimulation. I liked it. A lot.

Joe's hands were still firm on my cheeks and he was pressing himself against me. Then he slid his hands under my t-shirt and I could feel myself letting go, just giving in to the sensations.

We were groin to groin, me on the washer and Joe against it, and the rumbling bumped us against each other with every rotation. I was clawing at Joe's shirt, trying to get him naked; I needed to feel his skin.

I moaned into his mouth at the tingling sensation that started on my inner thigh and crawled closer to ground zero.

Joe pulled back and cursed colorfully. Not exactly the reaction I'd expected. I slowly opened my eyes and saw him glaring at the pager in his hand.

"Don't go anywhere," he said, a little out of breath, and turned on his heel.

On the stairs, he turned again and held up a finger. "I mean it, Cupcake, don't move a muscle! I'll be right back!"

With that, he ran up the stairs, taking three at a time. He was gone before I could fully process what had happened, and when it finally sunk in, I giggled. At least I could explain the tingling now.

I heard the floorboards creak above me as Joe made his way to the phone in the kitchen. I heard his voice as he talked, but I couldn't make out the words. Two minutes after he'd left, he was back downstairs. The look on his face said it all; I knew he was going to leave.

He picked me up off the washer and kissed me, long and hard. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he said.

I nodded and hung on to him. "Big case?" I asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"Homicide," he sighed. "I'll be back as soon as I can so we can continue this."

He kissed me again and then he left. I blew out the air in a disappointed sigh. I was in a state and I was going to walk around with the female equivalent of blue balls all afternoon, but I couldn't blame Joe. He was a good cop and he was on call. Nothing he could do about that.

It wasn't like the pager had woken him up at three in the morning, but it was Saturday. Who murders someone on a Saturday, wasn't that what the work week was for? I wondered angrily, not caring if I made sense or not.

I needed to distract myself, and fast. Morelli didn't have a shower massager, so all my penned up sexual energy would stay in me and drive me insane. By the time Morelli got home, I'd probably be a bitch. And then I'd find a way to start a fight and end up just as orgasm-less as I was now. Nope, better to get moving, stop brooding.

So I rifled through my outstanding FTAs, grabbed my keys and my shoulder bag, yelled goodbye to Bob and headed out. I knew that if I stayed home, I'd go insane.

Well, I got what I'd asked for. I couldn't have imagined a better distraction. My first FTA, Raymond Elmer, was 89 years old and thought he was God's gift to women. Which he might have been, 50 years ago. Not only was he naked in all his drooping skin glory when he opened the door, I couldn't help touching him when he refused to get dressed and I cuffed him. I was still gagging on my way back from the bonds office with my check in hand.

My second FTA that afternoon was Henry Morola, one of the Burg's notorious alcoholics who only got out of the holding cell long enough to get drunk again. He reeked of stale beer, piss and old man. I needed to shower with Clorox to get his smell off of me.

Yup, after that afternoon, I was cured. They'd killed any sex drive I had in me. I shuddered every time I thought of the two fine specimens of the male gender and I couldn't wait to get their smell off of me in a long hot shower.

Since Joe's house was closer to the bonds office and his bathroom was much newer and bigger than mine, I took a left onto Slater instead of going straight. Okay, so I also knew Joe had beer and leftover manicotti in his fridge and I was really craving comfort food right then.

Joe's SUV was parked in front of the house, so he'd made it home at a reasonable time. I congratulated myself on the decision to shower at his house, and parked behind his car. I would have missed him if I'd gone home, where there was only Rex and the shower massager to keep me company.

The front door swung open just as I reached for the doorknob. Joe stood in the doorway, wearing a huge grin.

And nothing else.

I couldn't help comparing his body, lean and muscular and just perfect, to the poor excuses for men I'd seen earlier. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him.

I quickly stepped inside and closed the door. "Joe!" I tried to scowl. "What if the neighbors see you like that!"

"You think they'd see something they like?" he asked, waggling is eyebrows again and grabbing me by the elbow.

He pulled me into his arms and buried his face in my hair. "I've been waiting for you. Just thought I'd help you out and take my clothes off for you."

"That was thoughtful of you," I breathed, trying to remember what Joe was explaining as he trailed wet kisses down my neck and splayed his hands on my back.

Joe lifted me up and I slung my legs around his waist. "We still need to test that washer, Cupcake. You can't just take my word for it that it's fixed, you know?" And he took a couple steps towards the basement.

"I trust you," I said, biting his earlobe. "Right now, I need to make sure your shower is working…"

A smile spread over his face as he pulled me closer and kissed me. A lot of tongue and hands in the right places. "I better make sure with you," he said when we came up for air.

TBC