Thank you for all the reviews of the first chapter although they've got me a bit worried now about how believable this story will seem. I just hope I can get across the emotions and reasoning behind their actions in the backstory.
Chapter 2 – Lady Liberty
"You around later?" she asked in earshot of several of their colleagues. "I'd quite like to go over a few things with you."
The tenting of the crotch area of his jeans would indicate that Dempsey knew exactly what that would entail.
"Yeah, no problem." He wouldn't see her for the rest of the day as Fry had been assigned to her for training purposes so he would be doing his own thing.
"Six-thirty?" he asked.
Harry threw him a suggestion of a smile in acknowledgement. "Fine."
And that was that, no more exchanges until they met up at the appointed hour.
As that first time, Dempsey booked the room and informed the desk that his wife would be joining him shortly. It was a joke really, a nod to their frequent undercover operations whereby the institution of marriage was the most logical camouflage. Who met their wife in a hotel room after work, stayed a couple of hours and then left again separately. Sure, husbands and wives might wanna spice things up a little with the old hooker/john scenario but that usually played out with a pick-up at the bar and the old man pretending to sneak the missus past the reception desk. Mr and Mrs Smith sounded pretty lame-o these days, like, who the hell needed the cover of respectability to get their rocks off?
It was room number thirty-two at The Hotel Eichler Mono this evening.
He took off his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe before pulling the chair out from the dressing table-cum-desk and sitting himself down to face towards the bed.
He loved and hated the scene before him in equal measure, just the same as he loved and hated this thing he had with Harry.
Something had to change, he decided.
Did this really make her happy? Was she content with their relationship because he sure as hell wasn't. Work partners who screwed. They were living at both ends of the spectrum with nothing in between to balance them up. They didn't do anything out of hours together any more except for meeting in this hotel. He couldn't say for sure how that had come about even. Maybe at the start, this was all they'd needed, all they'd wanted because it was in some ways the culmination of their tempestuous relationship, the admission of what they'd been denying for so long. It'd been weeks since they went to the movies, to some party as each other's plus one or even just for a drink. They either worked together or had sex together and whilst he enjoyed both, the situation was sterile.
He wasn't always so great at expressing his feelings but tonight he knew he needed to give it a try.
Over the bed hung the usual aerial angled Statue of Liberty picture, a copy of which, it seemed, hung in every one of the hotel's rooms. Done in strong acrylics and framed in dark grey, it was fresh and modern and complimented the New York Skyline print behind him. Lady Liberty, the representation of freedom – what did that mean exactly Dempsey asked himself with some cynicism.
Three soft raps on the door made his heart bump in his chest and he forced himself to stay seated 'til he'd counted to five.
She wore the lightweight pink coat again but this time, her dress was simple and black as were her shoes he noted as he opened the door to her. But it wasn't about what she was wearing – she took his breath away just by being her.
"Sorry I'm late," she apologised, "there was some idiot at reception complaining about his room. Not enough pillows; plug socket not working and only one spare roll of lavatory paper… God knows what he intended to do with any more."
Harry strode in on a fragrant wave, dropped her bag on the dressing table and shrugged out of her coat.
"No problem. All adds to the anticipation, right?" Dempsey grinned, taking it off her and going to hang it with his own.
When he turned back, she was right there in front of him.
"And what exactly are you anticipating?" she queried as she hung her arms around his neck, nuzzling against his throat.
He held her to him, stroking her hair. "Spending this time with you. Being with you."
"That sounds almost romantic, Dempsey," she chided and began unbuttoning his shirt. "You'll be quoting Byron at me next!"
There she went, mocking him again when he got close to telling her how he really felt about her.
With his shirt now hanging open, Harry had moved on to tackling his belt with avidity, forcing him to relinquish his embrace.
"Whoa, slow down, Princess," he said, deliberately breaking contact with her.
She let go, having already undone the button of his trousers.
"How slow do you want it?"
Taking a step back, Harry began to unfasten the black buttons which ran down the front of her dress. The pronounced curve of her breasts was now exposed, pushed up high by the black lace-filmed confection of raspberry and black satin she wore beneath.
Dempsey's gaze dropped along with his jaw and his eyes followed her fingers as they worked their way down. He reached for her but Harry moved back again just out of range of his questing hands and continued to strip out of the dress.
"Slowly, Dempsey," she reminded playfully.
"Wow! Like… wow! You look incredible." He took a step forward but Harry gently pushed him back, watching the effect she was having on him with some satisfaction.
With the dress unbuttoned to below the waist now, she stepped out of it thus revealing the raunchily arousing cami suspender set and to Dempsey's joy, the attached black stockings Up until now, her underwear had always been sexy yet classy; lacey pastel camisole and French knickers, sheer black bra and panties, beautiful lingerie that stirred his imagination and set his pulse racing but this… this was on another level. Harry dressed this way heated his blood like nothing else ever had.
"Shit, you look hot in that… what is that, whad'ya call that get-up? A basque?"
She didn't answer him but went and hung her dress in the wardrobe, Dempsey's eyes following her appraisingly every step of the way. When she stretched to hang the garment, the cami rode up slightly and her thong-clad posterior was tantalizingly revealed to full effect.
He was glad it was summertime as it was broad daylight outside and the warm evening sunshine streamed through the window to make her skin glow and her blonde hair shine, a flow of molten gold and silver.
It had been his intention to talk to her – really talk to her about where their relationship was going but as usual, she seemed to want to avoid anything other than small-talk and get straight down to business.
And he couldn't resist her; she just looked too finger-lickin' good and he was only a man he told himself. He knew he was prone to being weak-willed and shallow when it came to the fairer sex.
He watched as she sashayed to the bed in those sexy black heels and lay down on her side to gaze up at him provocatively.
"What are you waiting for?" she demanded.