Chapter Eight ( Shoot From The Hip..) M RATING ON THIS CHAPTER/ SLIGHTLY SEXUAL SITUATIONS
John Reese had settled in for the few hours it would take Lionel Fusco to arrive back at the new safe house. He half sat, half leaned on a small nook by the West window, halfheartedly watching the hazy sun set over this obscure part of New York City.
Mostly industrial, a few of the old factories were slowly but surely being renovated into livable space. If one could call this living.
Reese glanced behind him to the questionable quarters, the small three room apartment was situated on the top floor of what used to be a major retailer's warehouse back in the hey day of this district.
A few amenities filled the sparse area. A dilapidated couch which had seen better days. It dated from the seventies, Reese was sure, with it's red and blue striped fabric. A dining table with only three chairs and one of them had a broken leg so one had to be very careful when sitting. A coffee table that did not match anything but was laden down with fast food bags, one current 'People' magazine, and several used coffee cups.
The kitchen had the usual, but each appliance, though functioning, looked like they had been salvaged from the nearest junk yard. As safe houses went..this one should just ..go, in Reese's humble opinion.
But, it WAS the last place anyone would think to search for an affluent publisher whose tastes definitely ran to..more expensive digs.
Although, to her credit, Davidivitch had not complained. Which had shocked the hell out of the man.
She had screamed bloody murder when a cockroach had ran between her legs when she was getting into the tub but Reese gallantly resisted going to her assistance. A few curse words later, she was soaking in steamy hot water and singing old Sixties songs, not to mention , a few of the more recognizable pop tunes that Reese kinda knew the words to as well.
He sang along in his head for a while then noticed ..he had been singing along in his head so..he stopped.
He had spent the last half hour running through a mental list of a few good buddies of his from the olden days.
He and Finch could not keep imposing on Carter and Fusco, invading their private lives, their free time, which was precious and few.
The two guys he had in mind hired their services out these days, to the highest bidder for the simple fact..they were just that good.
Reese knew Finch could afford to pay top dollar and these guys were used to keeping their mouths shut where the job was concerned.
The good news was, they asked no questions so Harold's precious secret would not be an issue as long as the money was good. Reese could call them in for just such occasions as this..when he needed to rest or..do his thing, but..
That was later tonight.
He would run the idea by Harold when they had a moment or two. Enlarging the organization to a few more capable, part-time employees would improve his efficiency and free up value personel..which would be..himself.
Reese knew Finch would shit nails at first, but he hoped reason would prevail in the end. He knew these guys..trusted them both. Each had tried to be there when times were bad..after Jessica.
After he had lost it..first the Company had turned on him and then..he had learned about..
He hadn't wanted any help. He just wanted to left alone. Because he had never been so alone in his entire life, which suited him just fine, at that time.
John refused to think about it these days, clearing his mind instantly. To think about it disturbed his sanity so..he had trained himself to shut it down.
Stop the process.
Move on..he knew he could be useful now. He had a purpose again. He was repaying all debts owed for past actions. Slowly but surely, he..
"Penny for them."
Reese mentally jerked from his reverie, his eyes going to the source of the sudden disturbance to his solitary musings.
"Your thoughts?" Taylor Davidivitch stood, watching him intently, bathed in the dying sun of an ebbing afternoon. It streamed through the one lone window where Reese still sat. Casting a pale streak of light onto the faded carpet and beyond. The rain had come and gone, leaving a partially over cast day with intermittent bouts of melancholy rays.
Reese shifted, sweeping the woman's frame absently. He slowly arose from his perch, only just realizing, his right leg, which had supported most of his weight..was tingling, leaning to numb.
How long had he sat there? His crystal grey eyes glanced back at the spot he had just vacated but he had better things now with which to bide his time.
His gaze measured Davidivitch's form once again. "..You're getting the carpet wet."
"You call this carpet?" she challenged his descriptive powers. "besides, it's your fault." She indicated the thread bare towel which hung precariously about the appealing curves of her body. "What's a girl to do?"
"My fault?" Reese didn't mind prolonging the conversation. The woman had a fantastic shape, the short towel allowing a guy's imagination to take flight.
"Well, your over zealous girl friend's. She took all my clothes." She managed to look hurt. "You mean, you hadn't noticed?"
"I noticed." He would give her that much. "Nor am I complaining."
Davidivitch..smiled. It kinda warmed his cold heart, actually so..he smiled back. Just a tad though. No sense in getting crazy. "But..I'm cold. Either come over here and warm me up or..give me your shirt. It's the gentlemanly thing to do. Your little geek friend would have already offered his services."
"..I'm wearing my shirt." He pointed out, enjoying the conversation a little more than he should, he imagined but he didn't have Finch in his ear jogging his moral ethics.
"If I could pout, I would." Taylor sat on a nearby chair arm, the slit in the towel suddenly more pronounced. Reese was hard-pressed to keep his gaze level and inoffensive. "Probably wouldn't have much effect on you, anyway."
"Oh…" Reese took note of the slender thigh peeking out from beneath the terry cloth. "I'm..affected..Ms. Davidivitch."
"I should hope so..YOU can call me 'darling'." She had lifted a stylish brow. "Or..lover, if you like."
Reese's mouth twitched slightly, his gaze deepening. "What's not to 'like'."
"And still..you stand there." She motioned, leaning provocatively, a slender arm draped elegantly over the back of the rather shoddy cushion of the chair. "..Undecided."
Which was exactly what the man was..undecided.
"We are both adults here…John." She reminded. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?" she leaned slightly, and John's eyes were drawn to the ample swell of her breasts crushed tightly by the fabric of the towel, knotted so haphazardly. "Or…I could simply return to my room..and we can both pretend this conversation never took place." She crossed her legs leisurely. "Your call."
The silence was thick. The small hairs on the back of John's neck had arisen and he had to concentrate to keep his breathing on an even keel.
"Hummm." She tilted that pretty head, observing him like an insect under a magnifying glass. The delicate brow furrowed slightly and she..moved gracefully, her legs separating, slowly. Ever so much so. She leaned forward, bringing both feet into the cushion of the chair, her slight weight making hardly an impression in the gaudy fabric. "You are an enigma, my friend." She seemed impressed.
Reese's eyes dropped involuntarily to the shadowy depths between her legs. A guy couldn't see anything of import but she was making sure he knew the prize was there.
"A man who can't be bought..or bribed.." she smiled sweetly. "Or even..tempted." the seductive gaze checked him out, making a slight shiver of anticipation run through his body. An electric jolt pierced his intestines, his shaft springing to vivid life in spite of him distinctly telling it to remain 'at ease.'
A sensual purr escaped her lips. "Or…can you?"
She had noted his condition..fuck it all. But she handed it professionally. Not calling attention to his weakness. "Who is it going to hurt?" she was curious. "Are you..attached?"
"..No." He answered tightly. His attachments were all gone.
"I've made you sad." She seemed ..bothered, arising, the game not fun any longer. She walked to the window, careful not to stand before it, but he knew it was not from any sense of embarrassment. The silence was a comfortable one, oddly. "I don't think you even know how to be unprofessional, John.." she looked back over her shoulder at him, her manner resigned. "In 'anything' you undertake..do you."
She had asked a rhetorical question in her world, a derisive sound escaping her throat. She sighed heavily, her head lifting proudly. "Well, there's a good book awaiting my arrival in that hovel you laughingly refer to as..a room." She threw him a cryptic look, turning, making her way slowly back across the small space between them. "Guess I'll get to it."
John felt an acute sense of loss. Had he wanted to be swayed? He knew without doubt what lay beneath that fucking towel. He hadn't forgotten what it felt like..to lose himself in a woman's arms.
He could smell her perfume as she passed. A sweet, surprisingly demure scent that filled his head with images of soft, warm, secret places of delight. Her skin appeared so smooth and silky, her hair loose now, falling over her shoulders in lush waves of erotic fullness.
His hand itched to touch it.
It had been so long since he allowed himself any type of..down time. He was not even certain he knew how to let his guard down any longer. That way of life had become a part of him.
These days? The greater part, he suddenly realized.
Somewhere in the vestiges of his brain, he could hear Finch's voice.
'Really, John?'
'You? ..Of all people? I expected..better of you.'
Reese expected better of himself too, but his hand reached as she passed, catching her upper arm in a gentle but firm clasp. Her eyes met his and she..leaned into him,her palm burning through the fabric of his shirt. She could feel his heart beat..
"Steady and even." She tsked woefully, her eyes chastising him. "that will never do, John." She tip-toed, her mouth brushing his suggestively, then she..pulled back, allowing him to decide the moment.
Reese was feeling things as well. Nice things. Really..REALLY..nice things, his eyes dropping to those..nice things, his hand moving of it's own volition, to rest on a shapely hip. The coarseness of the towel did not dispel the amazing feel of the womanly curve.
Her mouth had tasted sweet..full lips crushed to his willing ones, and for one brief second, the tip of her tongue had swept fleetingly across his bottom lip causing his organ to expand and lengthen.
Her eyes pulled his soul, what was left of it..from his body. A guy could get lost in those damnable things if he wasn't careful but John Reese was always..careful.
"You're right, John.." she could almost read his thoughts. "I do want something from you..just like all the rest." She nodded minutely, her gaze stationed on the strong line of his jaw. "I want you to.." she lifted her mouth, and he..lowered his, their lips connecting but she pulled back just enough to whisper her demands. "..tingle with..anticipation." she breathed the last word, the hot breath fanning his throat, causing ripples of pure pleasure to traverse the back of his arms.
Her hand snaked up his shoulder, about his neckline, her fingers massaging into his hair, her mouth brushing his temptingly, planting light, evasive kisses which left the man strained and..alert. "flush with..urgency." the soft mew of contentment clouded his mind for a second. As she moved ever so close to his body, curving her form to his, her leg hooking about his calf and the towel..dropped.
Whether he had dislodged it or she..didn't matter. He could feel flesh and it felt phenomenal under his searching finger tips. He touched her gently, almost irreverently..finding his way, seeking paths which pleased her. The sounds she made guided his efforts.
"Moan…" she showed him just how to do it..correctly, the sound making his penis harden painfully. She took his hand, placing it on her right breast, then cuddling close to him, sighing contentedly, when he squeezed the plumb orb lovingly. "With suppressed.. desire." She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, and he ran light, evasive kisses down the satin of her skin, unto the full slope of her breast, not stopping there, for he enjoyed making her tremble..which she was doing and had been for a few moments now, her speech hauntingly..hesitant, where before..she had been definitive and secure in her pronouncements.
Her flesh tasted better than he had imagined and that elusive scent was now within his grasp. He buried his face between the heated surface of her breasts, breathing in the miraculous fragrance. His arms held her securely pressed along his body, his palms flattening on the firm, solid roundness of her buttocks. He pushed her closer still, his very being vibrating to her existence.
The woman reached between their bodies, her fingers stroking his hardness, curving to his shape and it was John's turn to..moan, which came out as a strangled grunt of willingness, which melted into a totally accepting gasp of acceptance as Davidivitch deftly unzipped his slacks, her hand gently moving aside the layers separating her from her objective.
John felt the urge to assist her but..she seemed perfectly capable so, he simply..waited. His erection was a painful one but she was careful and gentle with the extraction process and then, his world tilted slightly off axis as she..knelt before him.
"Oh, I disagree, Mr. Finch." Cordelia hated to do so, but..she did. "Kafka's descriptions of law and legalities must be considered metaphors for something other than what they seem."
" 'The Trial' is an unfinished work, Cordelia..we, none of us, can really say with certainty, what Kafka was trying to convey, in my humble opinion." Finch held the door for the woman to enter. The conversation started on the drive into town and had filtered over. The pair made their way down the sidewalk of Main Street, Unionville, New York. A small town of affluent people, population, 612 souls.
It was the middle of the week, so the shops were not overly crowded, luckily. Harold disliked shopping for anything as a rule, but necessity called for putting aside his feelings on this occasion.
Once inside the quaint little establishment, Cordelia's mood dropped a tad. She leaned close, her suspicions confirmed by the merchandise she had perused. "Mr. Finch..this place is far too expensive. Can't we just go to K-Mart? It was off to the right when we were coming into tow.."
"What is…a 'k-mart'?" he asked succinctly. "Is it a ..discount establishment?"
"..Well, it is a world renowned retailer with excellent prices." She rephrased.
"I do not shop..retail." he assured her.
She leaned closer. "I can't afford this place..it's ridiculous, what they are charging and sooner or later, I have to repay you. I am on my own..in New York, which, if YOU hadn't noticed, is the most expensive place on the face of the planet."
"You must make good wages..you've had novels which were very well received, were they not?" Harold caught his faux pas. "I am so sorry." He apologized sincerely. "It was and is..none of my affair, your wages. I don't know what got into me."
"I also have a publisher that gets a large percentage of my earnings not to mention, the rent on that flat that Davy insisted I.."
"As I said." He felt uncomfortable discussing such a personal issue. "Besides, you are not required to repay anything.."
"But I am." She insisted. "I couldn't do any less. Why must we constantly quarrel over such a silly thing? I WANT to repay you..and Mr. Reese for all your .."
"Please desist from saying those things. It's ..unnerving."
Cordelia was confounded. "You find discussing money..distasteful." she suddenly realized.
"Decidedly." He informed her. "So, may we forego such discussions in the future. This blouse is nice. It works with your hair, do you think?"
Cordelia felt bad. "I'm sorry, Mr. Finch. I didn't mean to make you angry. It's just that.." she hesitated uncertainly. "I haven't always had money and it's rather.." she sought the correct word. "terrifying to realize that..that situation might arise again if I am not very careful. Perhaps, however..I am being overly cautious."
She smiled sheepishly. "You can go get the provisions if you like. I'll only be a few minutes here."
Harold glanced once again to the two women attendants in the shop who had been eyeing them curiously since their entrance. He felt distinctly uncomfortable under such scrutiny. But the girl's words had moved him inspite of himself. He tried to shake the sensation off, moving forward. "I can't leave you alone, remember."
"Surely, I'm safe in broad daylight and you are only a phone call away." She motioned to a business phone over by the cash register, ignoring the blatant looks from the women.
"Absolutely not." He shook his head. "I will sit quietly while you choose the items you need." He searched in vain for a suitable place, finding none what-so-ever. "Are there no seats?"
"Back in the dressing room." Cordelia found his ignorance of such things charmingly antiquated. So, Harold bravely endured the process, while the girl made quick work of her task, choosing a few necessities as they went. She pulled up short at one point, when they approached the panty section., totally aware of the man beside her.
She blushed slightly, averting her eyes, pretending to be interested in the shoes lining the store front windows.
Some odd perversity overtook the man, for he had inexplicably enjoyed her discomfort, sensing it's source. He cast a quick glance to see how the other women in the shop were faring before offering, in a rather sedate tone.. "The blue lace would suit, don't you agree?"
Cordelia's mouth fell open, her cheeks suddenly ablaze yet again.
She watched helplessly, as the man made his way back through the small aisles, to the front of the store. He had carried her purchases, and now placed them on the counter. "My friend would like these gift wrapped, please..if you don't mind." And his tone suggested..even if they did.
The women seemed suitably dressed down, hurrying to do his bidding.
Cordelia grabbed a few of the silk panties and two of the more sensible cotton briefs, fumbling to the man's side, awkwardly laying her choices down.
Harold's eyes swept the pile, a slight smile gracing his lips. She had carefully hid the blue lace under all the rest. He gave her the moment, turning discretely aside until the clothes had been tallied and boxed.
He laid a credit card down..platinum, of course. And waited patiently for the ordeal to end. Although, surprisingly, he had not found it to be as horrible as first he imagined.