First You Fall: A Kevin Connor Mystery (21 page)

“One of those guys who come to the house dressed like a policeman and then takes his clothes off like a crazy person? She saw that once on that
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show and loved it.”

I thought I might enjoy that, too, but it didn’t seem entirely appropriate. “We’l have to come up with something better than that, Dad. I’l think about it.”

“You’re a good boy. So, tel me: Dottie says that whoever was looking through her window saw her naked. Is this true?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“And …” my father asked.

“And what?”

“How was it?”

“How do you think it was?”

My father paused for a moment. “Epic.”

“Yes,” I said, “but not in a good way.”

“No,” my father said, “I wouldn’t think so. The woman has a heart of gold, but it’s surrounded by, and you’l excuse my French, a shitload of lard, isn’t it?”

After my shift at The Stuff of Life I went to the gym, had a protein drink, and then headed off to a date with a client who paid five hundred dol ars to play

“salesman.”

His fantasy was that he worked at The Gap, and I asked to have my inseam measured. He took a measuring tape, put one end at my shoe, extended the rest up the side of my leg until his hand was just under my bal s, gave them a quick, surreptitious squeeze, and then ejaculated into his pants.

The entire thing took less than five minutes, four minutes of which was him explaining what he wanted me to do.

Sometimes, I loved my job.

I got home at 4:00 to find Tony outside my building.

“Hi,” he said, looking great in his standard blue slacks and white shirt. No tie today.

“Is this a stakeout?” I asked.

“I was just in the neighborhood. Rang your bel and when no one answered, decided to wait awhile.” I took out my cel phone. “You could have cal ed.”

“I could have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I wanted to see you.”

I extended my arms. “OK, you’ve seen me.”

“You’re going to make this hard for me, aren’t you?”

“Didn’t you tel me two days ago that you
didn’t
want
to see me?”

Tony cocked his head to the side and gave me his most charming smile. He arched one eyebrow and shrugged. “I have conflicting feelings.” I couldn’t help but smile back. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Can we talk?”

Because of my attention deficit disorder, I often get lost in the details and forget the big picture. That was happening here, too, I thought. I real y didn’t want to talk to Tony. What else was there to say?

Just this morning, I spent time talking to Marc with whom I’d had a lot of sex, but never real y spoken. It brought us a lot closer.

Now, here I was with a man who I’ve been talking to for days, but we haven’t had sex in years.

If we did it, if we final y made love again, would it bring us closer together, too? Or would it be the end?

Wasn’t it time I found out?

I thought of my to-do list. What was the last item?

Oh yeah, “fuck Tony.”

When I wrote it, I meant it in an angry way.

Standing here with him now, on a steaming city street with him looking cool and so handsome and smel ing faintly of freshly-mowed grass, I decided it would be OK to mean it in the other way, too.

What did I want?

What was I afraid of?

Focus, Kevin, focus.

“Let me ask you a question,” I said. “Are you drunk right now?”

Tony looked quizzical. “No.”

“Under the influence of any drugs or other mind-altering substances?”

Tony rol ed up his sleeve. “See? No track marks.”

“So, whatever happens, you’re ready to take responsibility for it?”

Tony saw what I was getting at. He pul ed me towards him. “You mean, right now? In the middle of the afternoon? No more talking?

I just had sex with Marc Wilgus a couple of hours earlier, but I suddenly felt as horny as I ever have. I kissed him. He kissed me back.

This time he didn’t hold back, and the kiss made something inside me expand and explode into a mil ion little pleasures.

“No more talking,” I said. “But feel free to cry out in ecstasy.”

Can’t Help Loving That Man

BECAUSE I HAVE
sex for a living, it’s easy to think I could become inured to it. Jaded.

But having sex isn’t making love.

When Tony entered me, I felt like I final y had come home.

And then I came.

Just from him sliding inside me.

“Wow,” Tony said. “I do that to you?”

“Now,” I said, climbing on top of him, “watch what I can do to you.”

Although being with Tony wasn’t like being with a trick, that didn’t mean I wasn’t about to use everything I had learned. I rode him like he had never been rode, feeling him grow impossibly hard inside me. I stopped every time he got close and then sped up again.

“You’re kil ing me,” he cried, before final y flipping me back on my back. He made love to me slowly, and then quickly, passionately, kissing me the whole time and moaning against my lips.

My erection, which had never real y gone away, rubbed against his impressive abs.

“Jesus!” he cried when he final y came. “Holy fuck!”

I shot again against his stomach.

He col apsed on top of me and buried his face in my neck. I felt wetness there.

But whether it was sweat or tears I didn’t know.

I’d be lying if I said that the cuddling after sex is better than the actual act. But it does come pretty damn close.

Lying in Tony Rinaldi’s arms.

I could stay here forever.

But could he?

He pul ed me closer.

“That was incredible,” he said.

As good as your wife? I thought. Then I chided myself: Stop it! Stop indulging your doubts and focus on enjoying the moment.

“It was OK,” I said.

He rol ed on top of me. “Just OK?”

“Wel , it’s clear you’re out of practice.” Tony frowned. “Hmmm. You’re right. Now, where could I get some more training, do you think?”

“Wel , I do offer advanced lessons for my more promising students.”

“More advanced than that? I think I’d have a heart attack, Kevvy.”

Kevvy. That’s what he used to cal me. I felt something inside myself blooming so large that I didn’t think I’d be able to contain it.

“You are kind of old,” I teased. “Maybe we’d have to start at the intermediate level.”

Tony started kissing his way down my body. “No time like the present.”

After the encore, I looked at the time. It was 6:00. I had to meet Freddy at 10:00 at Sexbar. Just then, my phone rang. I picked up the receiver by my couch. (I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with him in the bed where my mother had been sleeping.) Cal er ID told me it was the very woman who had forced me into the living room. I had learned not to skip her cal s.

“I have to take this,” I said to him.

“Mmm,” he said drowsily. “S’OK.”

I sat up on the couch and pressed talk. “What’s up, Mom?”

“Darling, it’s your mother.”

“Yes, I know that,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tel you I’d be home late. I’m going to Hannah Rosenberg’s house to play canasta.” This was the best news I’d ever heard. “Great.

Have fun.” Tony’s hand crept around to my lap.

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Al the girls in the shop today were talking about that bitch Dottie Kubacki’s encounter with a Peeping Tom last night. Most of them thought she’d made it up on the grounds that who would want to peep at Dottie Kubacki?”

Tony was pul ing me back into bed. “That’s nice, Mom,” I said.

“Wil you be OK for dinner without me?” she asked.

Tony put my hand on his reawakening erection.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I have what to eat.” After the second encore (is there a word for that?) Tony and I realized we were starving. Not surprising, considering the amount of calories we must have burned off. Luckily, the fridge was stocked with the leftovers of several nights of my mother’s home cooking. We sat naked at the kitchen table and pigged out on pot roast and gravy sandwiches.

“I have to tel you something,” Tony said.

“Something I didn’t tel you before because I didn’t want to, wel …”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “You didn’t want to get my hopes up, right?”

Tony grinned. “Yeah, that.”

“Listen,” I said. “How about I take responsibility for my hopes, and you take responsibility for being honest, OK?”

Tony’s eyes widened a little. “When did you get to be so smart? OK, wel , remember when we first met? How I told you I was married and that our relationship was so great? Wel , that wasn’t exactly the truth.”

“You’re not married.”

“We’re separated. Six months now. I don’t think we’re getting back together.”

“You don’t think?”

“I’m being honest here.”

Fair enough. “So, did this afternoon tilt the scales either way?” I regretted asking the question the minute the words left my mouth.

Tony looked down. Took a minute to answer. “I’m trying to keep things separate, if that makes sense.

Not let one thing decide another. I think I owe that to her. To myself, too. Can you understand that?”

“Sure,” I said quietly.

“But this afternoon was great. And,” he said licking his lips, “this pot roast is pretty great, too.”

“So, think we might do this again?” I asked hopeful y.

“Mmm.” Tony took another huge bite of his sandwich. “Wil there be more pot roast?”

“It’s possible,” I said.

Tony leaned over the table and kissed me. “Then you got me.”

After we finished eating, Tony and I, stil naked, went back into the living room and jumped into the sofa bed. I rested my head on his chest. His slow breathing was a narcotic. He asked if he could stay the night. I had to explain that I was meeting Freddy at 10:00.

“Sexbar?” he asked. “Isn’t that like some gay sex club or something?”

I nodded.

“You’re going to a sex club after the day we had together? Are you that insatiable?” He slapped me on the head.

“It’s work,” I told him. I explained that once a month, Freddy and I went there to hand out condoms and brochures about safer sex. It was a volunteer thing we did for the agency Freddy worked for.

I didn’t tel Tony that we did it in our underwear.

“OK,” Tony said, “then you have permission.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I think it’s great that you do this kind of thing. You have a big heart to do volunteer work.”

I stood up and took a playful bow. “Thank you.” Tony stood, too, and put his arms around me. “But I don’t real y understand about your day job,” he said.

“What exactly is it that you do?”

Uh-oh. “I’m a man of mystery.”

Tony pul ed me closer. “No, seriously, what do you do?”

I had just told Tony that he needed to be honest in our relationship. Could I be any less?

But he was a cop. And a man. An Italian man.

Was there a chance he’d be able to accept how I made a living?

“Wel ,” I began, not sure what I was going to say.

Just then, the door opened. “Darling,” my mother cal ed. “I’m home!”

Great, I thought. Last night, I spied on Dottie Kubacki naked and now my mother walks in on me and Tony in the buff.

Karma’s a bitch.

“Oh!” she cried. “Excuse me!” She covered her eyes. “I didn’t see a thing!”

“Hel o, Mrs. Connor,” Tony muttered.

“Tony?” my mother asked. I saw her spread her fingers apart as she peeked through them.

“Yes,” he groaned.

“I thought you were married?” she said.

“He’s separated,” I said.

“Oh, wel , that explains it, then.” She put her hands up to her eyes like blinders. “I’m just going to scoot into my bedroom (her bedroom!) and give you two a chance to, um, finish up. Nice seeing you,” she said to Tony. She took another peek at his naked butt. “
Really
nice.”

“Uh, bye, Mrs. Connor,” Tony said.

As soon as she closed the door, Tony pul ed away and hurriedly got dressed. “Stil want to spend the night?” I asked.

“I forgot she was staying here,” Tony said. “What are you doing about that?”

“I’m working on it,” I said.

Tony put his hand on his gun. “My offer stil stands.”

“Thanks, but I think I’l save that as a last resort.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, strapping on his holster.

He pul ed me against him. I liked the way my naked body felt against his clothed one.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” he asked me.

“I’m going to grab a shower before I head over to meet Freddy,” I said.

“I could use one, too” he said. “Although maybe I’l go to bed with your scent stil on me.”

Inside, I swooned.

“This was great,” Tony said. “Thank you. I’l cal you tomorrow, OK?”

“You better,” I said.

“OK.” He kissed me again. “I guess I’l be going now.”

“OK,” I said, kissing him back. We inched lip-locked toward the door.

“Bye,” Tony said, stil kissing me.

“So long,” I said, not stopping.

“See ya later.” He smiled through our kiss.

“Al igator,” I completed the rhyme.

After a few more minutes, I had to push him away.

“OK, OK, I get the hint,” he said.

I opened the door. “Talk to you tomorrow,” I said.

“I…,” Tony began. “Thank you.”

I thought he was going to say something else.

I closed the door.

I realized that I had forgotten. Forgotten what it was to be purely and total y joyful. To be happy and hopeful and ready for love.