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“Hey, love bird, stop day dreaming about Maura and get on those calls.”
I’m able to duck a paper ball thrown by Frost just in time to catch one from Korsak. Okay, so I may be a little distracted, but not in the way they both think and probably secretly fantasize about.
For all I know, I never thought getting a woman into bed would be my primary, driving priority in life.
Don’t get me wrong, dating Maura is great. After our first official date in her back yard, Maura and I agreed that we should date for a while before jumping into bed together. Something about relational disparities, mental compartmentalization, and honoring both the sanctity of our friendship and the novelty of our romantic relationship. I have to admit I checked out during most of it. In a nutshell she wants us to date and get to know each other romantically.
I totally get it, but I also wonder just how many more heated make-out sessions we can endure before something ruptures…down there.
“I’m going to grab some coffee, anyone want?”
“No, but tell Maura we said hello,” Korsak chides.
I’d be more annoyed if he wasn’t so right.
On the elevator ride down I take a moment to reflect on just how good things are between Maura and I. We went to a Sox game and have had several dates with varying degrees of formality to suit us both. For all intents and purposes, she’s the perfect girlfriend. As my best friend she already knows practically all my “tells” and is mindful to give me space when I need it, which isn’t very often these days. She’s very mindful of my needs and desires and I am hers.
I’m afraid she may still feel guilty about Reggie. We’ve talked it to death and I have absolutely forgiven her. We laid everything on the table on our first date.
We weren’t very far into the first course when Maura put down her fork with a sigh.
“I can’t do this.”
The fear I feel is sharp and instant. “What can’t you do?”
“Jane, look at this, look around you.”
I humor her by looking around even though I’m the one who put this all together. I know very well what’s around us.
“You did all this for me after I was too blind to recognize how you felt. I was too lost in my own heartache, at the thought of never having you, that I couldn’t see that you felt the exact same way.”
“We both have made mistakes. What’s important is that we move on together.”
Maura shakes her head. “I can’t apologize enough for making you endure the pain of watching me date Reggie. If I had known how you felt…if I had been brave enough to just ask…we could have—“
I stop her with a raised hand. “Would you ever intentionally hurt me?”
“Please just…answer me.”
Maura shakes her head vehemently saying, “Never.”
“Neither would I. Maura, we both made mistakes and maybe we took the long way getting here, but we’re here. I don’t want to think about the past, I’d like to discuss the future, a future where hopefully we’re together. And more than anything I’d like to never hear the name Reggie again.”
Maura sniffs and laughs and manages to look both adorable and sexy at the same time.
We both had a hand in a very crappy situation. It’s time for us to move on.
The ride is just long enough for me to give my brain a rhetorical cold shower. If Maura wants to build something special with me then I need to be appreciative of that fact. I certainly shouldn’t be whining about not getting laid. I’m a grown woman, not some teenage boy. I’m in total control of my body.
“In here,” she calls from her private bathroom. “You have perfect timing.”
Turning the corner, all thoughts of keeping my cool are lost.
“Could you zip me, please? I managed to do it myself this morning, but now…”
I’m staring. Open, unabashed lust fills my gaze. Maura’s alabaster skin is in full view, revealing just a hint of a black lace thong.
“Jane, I have—”
Maura’s words die on her lips, her frown of annoyance at my inaction quickly making way to realization. Realization quickly bled into arousal. I know that’s her aroused face because I see it every time she announces that either she or I should go, depending on whose house we’re at.
My feet are rooted to the floor. I guess I have been reduced to my base human instincts. All I can think about is matting with Maura in the most primal ways imaginable for as long as my body will allow.
“Is there something wrong?” Maura turns to me, dress clutched to her breasts coquettishly. “You look a little…pale. Do you need a doctor to examine you?”
Now she’s just not playing fair. Never one to take a situation lying down—even though I want nothing more than to lie down with Maura—I meet her halfway as she steps into my personal space. The smell of her perfume and shampoo cuts through the morgue’s ever-present scent of antiseptic cleaning fluid.
“Do you think I need a doctor?”
Maura presses herself against me deliciously saying, “I’m positive you need a doctor, detective.”
She’s right. I really, really need a doctor. More specifically, I need a forensic pathologist. I won’t be the one to tell her that. Not now when she has the light of victory shinning in her eyes.
Upping the ante, I wrap my arms around her waste gently caressing her back. Maura gasps against my shoulder at the touch of my hand. The power I feel is heady. I’m in control, but at the same time totally out of my depth.
Ever so slowly and reluctantly, might I add, I trace her spine with my fingertips, the zipper following. Soft, shallow breathes caress my neck making this seem like a less than bright idea. It’s with great effort that I pull the zipper back into place.
I step away suddenly, turning toward the door before saying, “I think it’s you that needs a detective.”
My phone chimes before I make it back to my desk. It’s a text from Maura reading, “That was just mean.”
I laugh aloud scaring everyone in the elevator.
My hopes for another make out session, if not more, are dashed by Vice. An influx of bodies that have to be attended to right away means Maura stays while I go. Maura looks so crest fallen that I have to use herculean effort to rope in my annoyance. I send her off with a smile and a promise to call.
The alone time is much needed as going from very single to a relationship of sorts has left me with little time to attend to personal matters. I took the time to stop by the market on the way home, picking up things I know Maura likes. My apartment needed a good cleaning; I can’t remember the last time I changed my sheets. I had a couple loads of laundry that have been taking up more space than my clean clothes.
Even with hours of chores I still haven’t heard from Maura. No one understands more than I do how work can trump almost anything. I tell myself that as I petulantly toss my phone aside. It looks like it’s me, beer, and ESPN Classic tonight.
I’m startled awake a few moments later. For all I know, I have no clue when I dozed off.
I crack open the door on my way to the kitchen.
“You must be exhausted. Are you hungry? I can make you something.”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
I almost drop the beer I pull from the fridge as I reach for my sidearm that isn’t there.
For all I know, I have no clue what she’s doing here!
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