CHAPTER 17

HOUSE CALLS

BEN

I go home and clean up a little. I stayed at Miryam’s place as long as I could, but I have to go home at some point. I change Mr. T into his Fuck the Police T-shirt. It seems fitting for today.

A loud banging on the door makes me jump out of my skin. I open it and step back because there’s a badge in my face.

“Are you Benjamin Wright?”

He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and crooked brown tie. His black dress pants are faded. His hairline is graying and receding, but he looks younger than my dad. He has a tiny notepad and pencil.

“I am.” Nothing good ever comes from a police officer knowing your name.

“I’m Detective Mullins. Can I come in so we can talk?”

Half of his foot is already on the tile inside my house.

“I guess so.” I move so he can finish coming in.

He looks around the living room. “You live here by yourself?”

“I do.”

Mr. T rumbles in and rubs his body against the detective’s shoe.

“He lives here, too.” I don’t want to get busted for perjury because I didn’t mention my pet.

Mullins looks down at Mr. T. “Your cat got a problem with the police?”

“He’s a ferret and not that I know of.” The shirt was a dumb idea.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

I’m really not, but I don’t say anything.

He walks around the living room, feeling under the tables. “We busted up a prostitution ring today. A big one. And your phone number was found in the ringleader’s phone.” He walks into the kitchen and opens drawers. “Do you know a Stephanie Blakely?”

My palms are sweating. “Yeah, she works in one of the buildings where I work.”

“That your van outside?”

“It is.”

Mr. T is following the detective, like he knows what’s on his shirt and he’s taunting him.

“How does a gardener’s phone number end up in a madam’s phone? That’s a curious thing.” He pulls the old Men’s Health magazine out of the drawer where I made notes about some of my appointments.

“I’m not a gardener. I take care of plants in office buildings like the one where Stephanie works.” My mouth is so dry.

“Who’s Juliana?” He’s smirking. A smirk can’t be good.

“Who?”

He points to the magazine. “Juliana. You have her name written down here. Just so happens one of Elite Entertainment’s clients is a Juliana. What a coincidence.”

I only kept that damn magazine because it had a really good core workout and now I’m going to prison because of it. I’m an idiot.

We stand there staring at each other, Mr. T between the two of us.

“How about we take a ride down to the station so we can talk more?” He’s still smirking.

I wanted this over with, so let’s get it over with.

For the first time in my life, I get into the back of a police car.

***

No one would watch those police TV shows if they told you how much waiting there is. I’m so tired of sitting in a room by myself that I’m willing to confess to almost any crime they want. I’ll say I humped one of those pink lawn flamingos during a Miami Heat game if it gets me out of here faster.

Detective Mullins walks in with a cup of coffee and a file. I thought they were supposed to good cop/bad cop me, but I’ve only seen one cop so far. He sets down the file and sits down across from me.

“Ben… Can I call you Ben?”

I hate when people ask that. Why ask after you’ve already done it? “You just did.”

“Ben, we’ve got the full client list from Elite Entertainment. We’ve already brought in quite a few of them for questioning today. Your name came up with some of them.”

Oh shit. I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet.

“Ms. Sasha Rominski and Ms. Molly Washington both said you did yard work for them.”

He’s watching me, probably to see my reaction. I don’t play much poker, but I hope I have a good poker face.

He looks down at his file. “In fact, what they specifically said was you were the most thorough person to ever attend to their gardens and they were sorry to see you go. Care to elaborate on that?”

“I take pride in my work.” As much as I don’t want to fuck Sasha and Molly again, that was pretty cool of them to not throw me under the bus.

“I’m sure you do.” He smirks again and flips a page. “We also have a canceled check for $2,000.00 from a Ms. Juliana Hoffman. She’s quite a good customer of Elite Entertainment, from what we can tell. What kind of yard work do you do for two grand? That’s a lot of plant watering.”

How the holy hell did they have time to get her bank records? “Well, I…”

He cuts me off, not that I had figured out what I was going to say yet.

“She said you took good care of her bush. Care to explain?”

“Not really.” Now would be a great time to have an attorney. If only I’d called the one I’m sleeping with. I’m a dumbass.

“As a matter of fact, several of the female clients of Elite Entertainment said you took good care of their bushes. You do a lot of work on the side for The Plant Doctor? I thought you only watered plants in buildings.”

“I also make house calls. It says so on the side of my van.” I’m so glad I didn’t let Steed talk me out of that slogan. I’ve never made a house call, but this guy doesn’t know that.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”

I have no idea. I don’t know anything about this stuff.

The door opens and I swear a beam of light shoots down from the heavens and shines on Miryam. I would think I was imagining it, but Mullins looks shook, so I know he can see her, too. She’s in a black skirt suit with a white top. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She’s wearing glasses. I didn’t know she wore glasses. She looks hot as fuck and mad as hell. I’ve never had a librarian fantasy, but I do now. I can’t possibly think of a worse time for my dick to start getting hard than in a police station.

“Detective, can someone explain to me why my client is in a detention room and his counsel wasn’t called?” She walks around the table and sits next to me without taking her eyes off Mullins.

He closes his file. “Mr. Wright didn’t ask for an attorney.”

“Did you ask him, detective?” She’s taken control of the room in two seconds.

Mullins shifts in his chair. “No, we just got started.”

Miryam takes a notepad and pen out of her briefcase. “Detective, does your precinct have a special waiver to operate outside the laws of The United States? Right to counsel is part of the Miranda warning, unless things have changed between the time I left my office and arrived here.”

He’s not smirking anymore. “There wasn’t a need for that yet. Ben and I are just talking.”

“Don’t insult both of us.” She scribbles some things on her pad. “I need to see your search warrant, please.”

“We didn’t get a warrant. Ben gave us permission to search his home.”

Miryam looks at me for the first time since she walked in the room. “Mr. Wright, did the detective ask you if he could search your home, or only enter? Think carefully.”

Watching her do her thing and absolutely own this guy is insanely erotic. My dick is about to knock on the underside of this table. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m not bringing this into the bedroom.

I use my most professional voice. “I gave him permission to come in and talk, Ms. Wexler.”

Miryam puts her hand over the Men’s Health magazine and slides it toward her. She points to the label on the bottom with my name and address. “How exactly did you come by this?”

Some of the color is coming back into Mullins’ face. “I’m allowed to seize any evidence in plain sight. Don’t start this lawyer shit with me, Ms. Wexler.”

Now I have to punch this motherfucker out. Miryam nudges me with her leg under the table.

I clench my jaw. “That was in my kitchen drawer.”

Miryam smiles, but it’s not like the nice smiles she gives me lately.

“You saw the magazine through the drawer, Superman? Had that x-ray vision long?”

Mullins doesn’t say anything.

“I’m afraid you’ve got fruit of the poisonous tree, my friend. Silverthorne Lumber versus United States. You try to admit this to court and I’ll get it thrown out, along with any evidence derived from it in five minutes.”

This is better than any major sporting event I’ve ever watched.

The detective flips open his file while clenching his other hand. “We also have numerous text messages with times and locations to meet Johns.”

That I didn’t know, but Miryam doesn’t bat an eye.

“Johns? You don’t have a gender-neutral name for that? It’s 2017.” She makes more notes on her pad.

“You can call them whatever you like. Either way, we have texts setting up these meetings.”

“And you found these texts on my client’s cell phone? Again, I’m going to need that warrant.”

Mullins shakes his head. “No, we found them on a phone in the office of Elite Entertainment. Mr. Wright’s prints were all over the place. Anyone care to explain that?”

She pushes her glasses up her nose. “How did you obtain my client’s fingerprints?”

“He consented to it when we brought him in.” He leans his chair back on two legs.

“You fingerprinted my client before charging and booking him? What kind of a shop are you running around here?” She laughs. “You’re making my job very easy.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

She puts down her pen and looks him in the eyes. “I haven’t told you anything yet. What I will tell you is that finding my client’s fingerprints in an office he visits weekly in the course of his business is not exactly a smoking gun. Unless you have something more than unfounded hunches and assertions, you’re wasting everyone’s time. I’m guessing you don’t as you’ve noted that you haven’t even charged my client with anything. I think we’re done here. I’ll need the room with my client.”

Mullins moves his jaw around in a circle. He closes his file and gets up. “We’ll be in touch.”

“No, we won’t.” Miryam turns her back to him and faces her chair toward me.

I don’t know what I want to say to her first when the door closes. I pick the dumbest.

“You wear glasses?”

She adjusts them on her face. “They’re not prescription. They’re my battle glasses. Studies show people believe women in glasses are more intelligent.” She shrugs. “It gives me an edge.”

“Well, it works.” I want to bend her over this table right now.

“How are you doing?” She pulls my hand off the table and holds it in her lap.

I let out a long breath. “I’m fine now. You really pulled my ass out of the fire.”

She squeezes my hand so hard it hurts. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I thought they were going to ask me some questions and send me home.” I shrug.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

I’m not really worried about me anymore, but I’m worried about her. “They already pulled some bank records. Aren’t they going to find the payments you made to Stephanie?”

“Do you think I’m crazy? I didn’t pay her directly. I funneled the money through Sheba. It was her idea. And they already found those payments. She’s in interrogation room three. Been there for four hours talking to them about her favorite coffee and styles of dance. She’s having the time of her life. They’ll get tired and let her go soon. No way they press charges.”

What the fuck? “Sheba’s here?”

“Yeah, I checked on her before I came in here with you. She seemed to have things under control. The detectives look exhausted, but she’s just getting started. She knows none of that money was exchanged for sex, so she’s having some fun.”

This has been a weird day. “Is that how you knew I was here?”

She nods. “Yes, Sheba was smart enough to call an attorney for both of you. You can thank her later.”

I know; I’m an idiot. “I have one more question. Did you change clothes? That’s not what you left in this morning.”

“I keep a litigation suit in my office for emergencies.” She puts her notepad and pen back in her bag. “I wish I knew who turned in that ice queen of a madam. I’d like to give them a medal.”

I pick at the scuffed edges of the table. “Someone with inside knowledge must’ve called in and given the police an anonymous tip with the details of her operation. It’s anyone’s guess.”

She widens her eyes. “You?”

I smile a big, cheesy grin at her. “Fuck yes, I turned that bitch in. I don’t like being threatened.” I called them last night before our date and told them everything I knew. I gambled on the small chance they’d never find anything to link me to Stephanie. I’m not good at gambling.

She punches my arm, but there’s no force behind it. “You called in a tip like that without talking to an attorney first? Are you crazy? I love you, but you’re an imbecile.”

I catch her arm in my hand. “What did you say?”

She shrugs and looks to the right of me. “I said you’re an imbecile.”

I twist her metal chair so she’s facing me completely. It makes a skin-crawling screech across the floor. “Before that. Did you just say you loved me while we’re sitting in a police interrogation room?”

She laughs. It’s a sound I’m certain I’ll never get tired of.

“I did. You don’t have to say it back, but it’s how I feel.”

And she thinks I’m the imbecile. “Are you kidding?” I turn to the two-way glass. “I love this woman! Did you hear me? I love her!”

There’s probably no one in there anymore, but I don’t care. There needs to be a record that, on this day, I told Miryam Wexler I love her.

I take both of her hands in mine. They’re cold. I rub my thumbs over them to warm her up. “How could I not love you? You’re a smart, gorgeous pain in my ass. What’s not to love?”

She launches herself out of her chair and into my lap. My chair rolls back on two legs for half a second. By the time it snaps back to the floor, her hands are on my face and her tongue is in my mouth. Police station be damned. I want this woman.

I put my hands under her perfect ass and pick her up. I lay her down on the table with her legs hanging off. Her stupid sexy skirt is too tight for me to lift it up, so I straddle her legs and grind myself into her pubic bone. The pressure feels so good. I wonder how much trouble I’ll be in if I rip her skirt up the side.

I lean over to kiss her again, and she puts her hands on my chest.

“We’re both going to get arrested.”

“I don’t care.” I push against her hand to reach her lips.

She pushes back. “And Sheba will have to post our bail. And she’ll tell everyone.”

Good point. I rub my hand across my face to break the sex haze. “Can you give me a ride back to my place and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

She pushes me back harder. “Wear your seatbelt.”

***

Her car catches air more than once. I don’t know if I’m scared or more turned on that she wants me as much as I want her. I think it’s some of both. She follows the directions I bark out at her right before she misses a turn.

She pulls into my driveway and almost takes out my neighbor’s mailbox. I run from the car to the front door and fumble with my keys. Miryam catches up to me and wraps her arms around my chest from the back.

I get it unlocked and push the old door hard to get it open. I twist so I’m facing her and pull us both inside. I move both of my hands below her back, squeezing two handfuls of ass.

She runs her fingernails under the front of my shirt. “Let’s get this off of you.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I pull off my shirt and toss it behind me.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“It’s around the corner to the left,” a voice calls from the living room. A dumbass voice with bad timing.

Miryam jumps back and folds her arms over her chest, even though she’s the one still wearing a shirt.

“Do you have a roommate?”

I rub my face. “No, I have a best friend.” If I don’t sink my dick in Miryam soon, I’m going to lose it.

I walk to the living room and knock Steed’s feet off the arm of the couch. “C’mon, buddy. You’ve gotta go.”

He points to Mr. T sleeping on his chest. “I don’t want to wake him up.”

Steed might be leaving in a body bag.

He suddenly sits up and sends Mr. T scampering.

“Well, hello there.”

I look behind me and see Miryam has followed me into the living room.

He stands up and walks over to her, extending his hand. “You must be Miryam.”

She grabs his hand in a handshake. “I am. And you are?”

He kisses the top of her hand instead of shaking it. “I’m Steed.” He glares back at me. “I’m not surprised this jerk hasn’t mentioned me. He’s clearly trying to keep us apart.”

Oh my God, he’s flirting with her. If Miryam doesn’t punch him in the dick, I will.

I pat his back harder than I need to. “Time to go.”

He’s still holding Miryam’s hand. “But we were just getting acquainted.”

Miryam pats the top of his hand and pulls back the one he’s holding. “I’ll take a raincheck on that.”

He looks at both of us. “Oh, that’s how it is. Okay.”

I nudge him toward the door. “I’ll call you later.”

He lets me push him, but he looks back at Miryam. “Can she call me later, too?”

I open the door and shove him through it. “Out.”

I close the door, ready to do awful, wonderful things to my girlfriend. When I walk back to the living room, Miryam is standing there holding Mr. T. He’s lying in her arms like a traitor. I’m the one who feeds him and puts on his anxiety shirts. He barely looks at me.

“Who’s this guy? Or girl?” She scratches under his chin.

I want her to scratch under my chin. I’m jealous of my own ferret.

“That’s Mr. T.”

“Is this the shirt he was wearing when the detective came over?”

I nod.

“You’re an idiot.”

She nuzzles Mr. T’s face. I rub my abs to try to get her attention back in my direction.

“Do you want to see the rest of the place?” Like the bedroom.

She laughs and puts my ferret on the ground. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

She takes the few steps to me and lifts her and to the bun in her hair.

I wrap my hand around her wrist. “No, leave it. I like the bun.”

She runs her hands down my chest and hooks her fingers under the waistband of my jeans. “Oh, do you have a librarian fantasy?”

I move her arms long enough to push her jacket off her shoulders. “I do now, and I have a very, very overdue book.”

She pops the button on my jeans. “Oh, my. What are we going to do about that?”

I untuck her shirt from her skirt. I want to rip it open and send the buttons flying, but I bet she’ll kill me. I unbutton it like a gentleman, but the stupid tiny buttons slow me down. After what feels like hours, her shirt drops to the floor with her jacket.

She’s wearing this white lace bra with tan flowers. Her body and tanned skin can make anything look good, but this… This is beyond sexy. Miryam slides the zipper down on the side of her skirt. I didn’t know zippers could be on the sides, so I’m glad she saved me that trouble. She steps out of her skirt and kicks it behind her.

I don’t know enough baseball stats or sad videos to keep me from blowing my load in my pants like a teenage boy. She’s standing there wearing that white bra and a white thong and those glasses. Fucking hell. I’m not going to last two seconds inside her. If I make it that long.

She reaches up and pulls her glasses down.

“Noooo!” I stretch that one word out for three seconds. “Keep the glasses on.”

She pushes them back up her nose and gives me a devilish grin. “Yes, Mr. Wright.”

I unzip my jeans before my dick tears through them. Pulling my wallet out of my pocket, I search for the last condom in there. I might have to get a Costco membership and buy in bulk if I’m going to have Miryam around. Which I am. All the time.

I find it and throw the wallet across the room. I’ll pick it up later.

I put my hand under Miryam’s chin. “I wanted this to be sweet and slow, but I can’t wait another minute. You know I love you, right?”

Her eyes are all pupil. She nods. “I do.”

I suck her bottom lip into my mouth before running my nose across her cheek to her ear.

“Good. Then bend over the couch.”

I guide her back down so her hands are on the seat cushions. Her perfect ass is like a work of art staring me in the face. I’ve seen a lot of nice asses at the beach, but none of them looked like this. I smack her right cheek. She squeals. I wait to see if she’s going to turn around and take a swing at me, but she leans back and rubs her ass on my crotch instead.

God, I love this woman.

I push my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. I rip open the condom and throw the wrapper somewhere near where my wallet landed. I roll it on with one hand and use the other to slide her thong to the side.

I don’t even have to touch her to see that she’s as ready for this as I am. I rub my dick against her. I can hear her muttering words under her breath.

“Are you ready for me, Miri?”

“Yes! Please!” Her voice is muffled against the cushions, but I can hear her loud and clear.

I hold her hips up to get a better angle. I push myself inside, using every ounce of restraint to not bust a nut right then. I pull out and push back in, working her hips with mine. She pushes back against me harder and faster. I’m really not going to last much longer. I hope she’ll stay the night so we can do this a few more times.

I slide my hands around her more to help her go faster. I’ve got a tight grip on her hips. I hope I don’t leave bruises. I can feel the tension building and I can’t slow it down.

“Fuck, Ben, yes!” Miryam yells into the cushions.

Her hair tumbles out of the bun and spreads out along the couch. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

My fingertips dig into her hips harder as I lose control. I want to beat my chest and yell at the ceiling. I’ve never felt more alive. I got a huge problem off my plate, declared my love, and bent the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen over the couch.

Today has been productive.

I put my hand under her body to help her up.

She turns around to look at me. Her hair is a mess. Her glasses are crooked. And I want to fuck her all over again.

She pushes her hair out of her face. “Well, that was different.”

My smile falls because different isn’t always good.

“I think we should add that into the regular rotation.” She rubs my chest.

“That sounds good to me.”

She points to my bedroom. “Do you have a bathroom in that direction that I can use?”

“I do. Don’t take a shower though, unless you invite me.”

That’s a whole other thing we can try later. There will be lots of laters.

I clean up in the guest bathroom while she uses mine.

I find her lying on my bed when I’m done. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She’s got her hands behind her head and her ankles crossed. She looks totally at home.

She smirks and I know something’s coming.

“I thought you said you only had one pillow.”

Nothing gets past her.

I lie on the bed next to her. “Maybe I bought another one because I was hoping someone would use it.”

She rolls over and puts her hand on my chest. “I hope that someone is me.”

I pull her into my side. “It’s always going to be you.”