As he talked to one of his supervisors, I went over to the juke box. I ran my fingers enviously over the buttons. If I ever allowed myself to make an impulse buy, it would be for a juke box of my own filled with the oldies, especially Motown. It seemed Randy and I had similar tastes.
I had been so enthralled by reading the musical selections that I hadn’t heard Catcher come up behind me. His voice caused me to jump. “I gotta go run these into the lab tonight since we have a technician working late.”
My fingers hit the buttons before I turned around, and before I knew it, Runaround Sue by Dion began playing. “Here’s my story. It’s sad but true…”
Catcher groaned. “Of all the songs.”
“You’re not a fan of the oldies?” I asked while my heart shriveled a little.
“It’s not that. It’s just the song itself.” He exhaled a deep sigh. “The girl who tore out my heart and stomped the poor bastard flat was named Sue.”
Instantly, my interest piqued at the mention of the Ex Files. So far Catcher hadn’t had too many specifics to say about his love life. I had begun to question if he had a love life or just a sex life.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Ah, just a baby.”
“Pretty much.”
Leaning back against the jukebox, I asked, “So what happened?”
He ran his hand over his face. “You seriously want to go there.”
“I told you about my embarrassing past with Eric dying on me.”
“Fine, fine. I found her in bed with some guy the night before I’d planned a romantic wedding proposal.”
My mouth gaped open in shock. “You were that serious?”
Catcher gave me a rueful smile. “I thought we were.”
“Damn. That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. Or it did. It’s been ten years, and I’ve definitely moved on.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I mean, that you’ve moved on, not that you had your heart broken.”
“What about you?”
“Have I ever had my heart broken?” When Catcher nodded, I said, “Sure, I have but not from cheating.” I gave a mirthless laugh. “It seems everything in my life is tied to death including my heartbreak. I don’t know if I was in love with Eric, but it broke my heart when he died. Especially the manner in which he passed away.”
Catcher grimaced. “That had to be horrible.”
“Yeah. It was.”
After tossing the samples on the pool table, Catcher held out his hand to me. “What?”
“Can I have this dance?”
I laughed. “You really want to dance with me?”
“Yes.”
“In the basement of a crime scene.”
“That would be a big hell yeah.” He pointed at the jukebox. “No need to waste the opportunity.”
Although we weren’t in the best setting possible, the romantic possibilities of this moment weren’t lost on me. So, I silenced my inner voices of doubt and slid my hand into Catcher’s.
He tugged me to him before wrapping his other arm around my waist. We then began to bop around like we were at a sock hop or something. Seriously, that’s the only way I can even begin to describe it. Catcher would sling me out and bring me back. As the song came to an end, he dipped me. I was out of breath from both our exertions and laughing.
When he pulled me back up, he ducked his head to bring his lips to mine. The record changed over to Smokey Robinson and The Miracles You Really Got a Hold on Me, and hot damn, if we both didn’t get a real hold of each other. I slid my hands down Catcher’s back to cup his ass while pressing my * against the ridge of his growing erection. He groaned into my mouth before bringing a hand to squeeze my breast. Our grip followed suit when the song deemed, “tighter, tighter.”
We staggered back to the pool table before collapsing on it in a tangle of arms and legs. Our mouths stayed fused together as our tongues slid in a tantalizing dance against each other. Catcher’s hips pumped his erection against my core, and I could feel myself growing wet. Although it was morally and ethically wrong on so many levels and I should have been ashamed of myself, I wanted nothing more than for Catcher to fuck me on dead guy’s pool table in the middle of a crime scene.
“Olivia?” someone called from the top of the stairs.
As I recognized Ralph’s voice, I jerked my lips from Catcher’s and tried desperately to catch my breath. “Yes?” I shouted back.
“I was just heading home when I got the call that you and Agent Mains were in the house. I thought I would stop by and see what you guys found out with Randy’s emergency contact.”
“Sure. One second and I’ll come up.” I pushed Catcher off me before scrambling to my feet. In that moment, I silently thanked the fact that Ralph was lazy or else he would’ve come down the stairs and caught Catcher and me in make-out city.
“I think he planned that,” Catcher grumbled as he straightened his tie and shirt.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror over the bar. “Oh, be serious.”
“I am. I think he was on the way home when suddenly his cock-blocking senses went into overdrive. Interrupting us has nothing to do with the case, and everything to do with making sure no one is getting any.”
I laughed. “It was a good thing he interrupted us.”
“Blue balls and a shriveled erection are not good things, babe.”
Drop Dead Sexy
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)