Chapter 15
A great deal of the lab crew's time the next day was spent in bagging and tagging all of the evidence from the two cases. They had to make sure it was all presentable in such a fashion the ADA could present it to a jury, help them to understand the crime and the murder's participation, and bring a verdict of guilty. Everyone's hope was that Letitia could be shown to have been incapable of making a sane decision and receive help.
Horatio's time alternated between the drudgery of paperwork and the wondrous amazement that he had met a woman who was intelligent, charming and attractive. As every hour passed, he found himself anticipating their date that night more and more. They were both involved in the same field of work, even though separated in degrees by approach, he dealing with recent crimes, she more often with ancient lifestyle. On rare occasion, as she had pointed out, she did deal with crimes. How many conversations could they have on that alone? But then, how long would it take before he could keep track of her words rather than how her lips moved or the way her hair moved as she emphasized a point, or her sparkling eyes?
'Paperwork,' he reminded himself, 'or you'll never get out of here!'
At home that evening he wondered how much fuss he should put into his dress and grooming. This was a second try but he didn't want to appear to be too worried about it. On the other hand, if he seemed too blasé would she take offense? Raised in Cajun country, he wondered if she were the downhome country sort or the old world courtly variety, especially when it came to romance.
He pondered if he even knew how to romance a woman of her background. It had been so long since those days in New York, since that time he had suffered the wound that nearly took his life, since the same man had killed his wife. The incident brought him to Miami, partly to be closer to his brother, partly just to get away from the Big Apple.
Now, here he was, getting ready to go out with the first woman he had honestly been attracted to in years and had no clue as to what to do. Would a bouquet of flowers be enough or too much? How would he know what clues to look for from her?
He guessed a jacket would be appropriate for the restaurant he had chosen and selected his light gray. The blue shirts were always a safe bet, he knew that. No tie. His little worn gray loafers of Italian leather, light and soft as butter would be good as well. Those he put by the bedroom door as he slipped into a pair of gray slacks of lightest wool.
Giving himself a last look, he walked out of his apartment, returned for his keys, walked out, returned for his shoes, and waited for his red face to return to its normal color before finally leaving.
When he finally knocked on her door, he could only hope he had anticipated all of the good, the bad, and the ugly of the evening.
This time, her dress was a riot of tropical color; green leaves and bright orchids. Instead of the full skirt, this was a sheath that showed curves he had previously not suspected and of which he most definitely approved.
She paused at the door and smiled flirtatiously, saying, "No crimes tonight?"
He grinned. "Nope, all buttoned up and my phone is off. I'll pick up the pieces tomorrow morning if I have to. How about you?"
"As much as I love recent archology, working at night among mosquitos and other bugs, it will all have to age one more night."
He waited for her to get her purse and wrap from someplace close to her door, close and lock it.
When they reached the car, she halted. "You are sure your phone is off? Does anyone know where you will be tonight?"
Horatio raised his hand, "No one knows where I will be. My phone is off," he raised his hand, "I swear."
She looked pointedly at the car door handle until he opened it, bent in and took the pale pink carnation from the seat.
"A gift to show my sorrow for the error of my ways last night?"
She smiled and kissed the simple flower. "This is one of my favorites. Merci."
# # #
Three weeks later they went on a picnic in Brickell Park. Since the first successful date, they had found they never had a lack of things to talk about whether it was their work, where they came from, or the aspirations for the future. For the first time in years, Horatio felt his tongue freed from the constraints he had put on it and he knew Manon held no judgment, only interest. Later that day they went for a long stroll, and watched a display of fireworks. In the last fantastic burst of color, noise and light, they kissed and found they couldn't stop. Horatio for one was glad only flashes exposed the long embrace.
Finally, in the dark, Horatio could barely whisper, "Your place or mine?"
Manon paused so long, he wondered if he had overstepped his bounds. With every instinct of manhood urging him to beg, plead for an answer he held his silence. Years of watching ADAs present their cases to juries, he knew that she still had reservations and that it was best to wait. He had stated his case in that simple phrase and now it was up to her to deliberate and then accept or not.
The seconds ticked by interminably until she said, "Did you bring an overnight kit in your car or shall we stop at your place to get one?"
He considered whether to admit he always had one, partly because police business sometimes made it best to have one and sometimes because he hoped there might someday be such an occasion as this. "I have one." He was glad she didn't ask why.
# # #
Before she could open the door to her unlocked apartment, he cornered her between his two long arms, leaned in and kissed her. She leaned back against the wall, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to her lips pushing her hips against his body. Dropping one arm, he pulled her waist to his trying not to grind his hips against hers, not yet anyway.
She giggled as she turned her head whispering, "I have lovely, tolerant neighbors but I think even they have a limit."
Grinning, the tall red head wiped the corner of his lip with his thumb. "Never been tempted to test the limits?"
Giving a saucy toss of her head, she turned to open her door. She slipped in and then acted as if she were about to close it. She looked surprised at his advance. "What? You thought you were coming in?"
He paused as he cocked his head, waiting.
She put a finger to her cheek, "Ah, yes, I did invite you. Now I remember." She opened the door to admit him.
Now he knew to wait for the next move. He was on her territory and by her invitation so he would have to play by her rules. Not that he didn't like playing sex games, it was just that with each new partner, the rules changed. Being that Manon was an intelligent woman, he knew he had to learn to recognize her signals and then respond as she chose.
"Shall we get comfortable?" she said as she stepped out of her fashionable heels.
He took that as an invitation to remove his jacket.
She took it from him and laid it gently over the back of a chair close to the door. She also relieved him of the kit and put it purposefully on the couch cushions. Then she turned, literally walked into his arms, pulled his head down and kissed him purposefully on the lips.
He responded slightly deeper, wrapping his arms around her.
Both let out a sigh as they finished.
"I don't know about you," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, "but I would like to have you naked in bed."
"My thoughts exactly," he answered.
Saying nothing more, she took his hand and led him through a door from the living area. In there, she advanced to turn on a small bedside lamp and then closed the door.
Horatio observed how she moved. He couldn't help but be wary after a brief encounter several years before with a woman who, he found out too late, became rough in the bedroom. She had literally attacked him, tearing at his clothes, biting and scratching him. When he didn't respond in kind after throwing her off, she demanded he hit her and attacked him again. Only by restraining and handcuffing her to a door handle was he able to get dressed. Seeing him in civilized attire she calmed enough so he could release her, and retrieve his handcuffs. He left her rubbing her wrist. Ever after that, he knew to watch and hope.
In this case, she only did as any man could wish for. She threw down the bed covers and then unzipped her dress saying as she did, "I hope you don't make love in your clothing."
"No indeed, I don't." A chair by the highboy dresser seemed to be the best place to leave his clothing. He started with his shirt. Before he knew it, she, clad only in a dainty bra and the tiniest finest silk panties, advanced and pulled his shirt tail out to start unbuttoning at the bottom. When their fingers met so did their lips.
After that, it was an intertwining of hands helping the other out of one piece of garb and then another. How they managed with the two being so close was hard to say. By the time she pulled him to her bed, he was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight.
Only with greatest effort that he cleared his mind so he could enjoy what he hoped was to come. After the enjoyment of letting her kiss him, he found she didn't mind that he wanted to feel her back and sides. Finally, he pushed her down onto her back and began to slowly allow his lips to explore her from her neck, to her shoulders and chest and then the sides of her small breasts. Finally he allowed himself to gently suck on first one nipple and then another and back. She heaved and sighed and smiled, while weaving her fingers through his hair.
When her reactions slowed, he moved down her ribs and then to her stomach, making her giggle lightly as he ran his tongue around her belly button. As he intended, he elicited another reaction as he kissed the join between her hips and thighs.
At this point he got up on his knees and crawled between her legs and then drew his hands from beside her breasts down to her knees and back. With each pass she sighed in bliss. Then he lowered his head as she pulled her knees up.
Moments later, she lay gasping and happy while he got up and washed his face in the bathroom. He returned to ask, "I take it I did it right?"
"Cho! Co! Cher, you did it most right for sure! I will have a hard time kissing you now because of the smile I have."
"Really?" He leaned over her. "Let's see." He kissed her.
As he expected, she somehow managed to kiss back. Still playing by her rules, now he laid on his back and let her have her delightful way with him, pleasing him in unexpected ways. Eventually, she seemed to sense she would only be teasing him if she went any further and so she laid back and welcomed him into her arms.
The explosion moments later came after a moment of being lost in time and space when he had no awareness of himself or her. Then, in a blazing display of fireworks, he felt her clutching at his back as he exhausted himself. In a haze, he pulled his weight from her and curled up, clutching at her in a helpless desire to remain one. She pushed herself between his legs and cuddled him.
When he came to a few moments later, looking into her eyes, and realized their positions, he was startled. He had occasionally found himself curled up like this when alone in bed but not with a woman. To find that she had fit herself against him in an apparent effort to comfort him was something no other woman had ever done.
"Ah, you rouse more quickly that many men. How do you feel?"
"Remember the corn flakes ad on TV from the 60s where the character says they are g-r-r-eat? That's how I feel. I seem to remember a favorable response on your side."
"Indeed, there was again."
"I'm glad." He leaned over to kiss her.
She responded and a few moments later, the two were tossing and rolling, entwined like two freshwater otters. Then their movements slowed and became more purposeful until it culminated again in a joining of mutual enjoyment.
Neither stirred after that until morning.
The End