Smokin Seventeen

TEN

FIVE MINUTES LATER I was in my own car. I had a bag of leftovers on the backseat and Grandma next to me in the passenger seat as I wound my way through the Burg to Stiva’s Funeral Home.

“Dave wasn’t so bad,” Grandma said. “He wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the losers your mother’s dragged home for you. Remember the butcher?”

An involuntary shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

“And I think it’s real nice that Dave knows how to cook,” Grandma said. “It could come in handy for some lucky girl.”

I looked sideways at Grandma.

“Well you could do worse,” she said. “I don’t see you making much progress marrying what you already got on the string.”

“I’m not sure I want to get married.”

“Don’t be a ninny,” Grandma said. “Of course you want to get married. You want to take out your own garbage for the rest of your life? And what about babies?”

“Babies?”

“Sure. Don’t you want babies?”

Truth is, I was pretty happy with a hamster. “Maybe someday,” I said.

I dropped Grandma off at the funeral home and drove back to my apartment. I spotted Morelli’s green SUV parked in my lot, and I pulled up next to him. His truck was empty, and the lights were on in my living room. He’d let himself in. He had a key.

I took the elevator, walked the length of the hall, and Morelli and his dog, Bob, met me at my door. Bob adopted Morelli a while back. Bob’s big and shaggy and red, and he eats everything.

“I saw you pull into the lot,” he said. “Nice view from up here.”

Hard to tell if he was referring to me or the bag of leftovers I was holding.

“How did you escape from Uncle Rocco’s party this early?”

“I faked a call from dispatch.” He took the bag, set it on the kitchen counter, and reached out to me. “You’re looking really sexy tonight. I almost fell out the window watching you walk across the parking lot.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because I was carrying dessert? I could share my pudding with you.”

He wrapped his arms around me and cuddled me into him. “Later.”

“A drink?”

He brushed a kiss across my lips. “Later.”

“So, then what would you like to do?”

“For starters, I’d like to peel this shirt off you. And then I want to see you shimmy out of this little skirt.”

“And the heels?” I asked.

“Leave the heels on.”

Oh boy. “That’s naughty.”

Morelli slid his hands inside my sweater. His eyes were dilated black, and his mouth was soft with just a hint of a smile. “Cupcake, I’m feeling way beyond naughty. We’re going to have to lock Bob out of the bedroom so we don’t corrupt his impressionable mind.”

Five minutes later I was down to the heels, and Morelli was wearing even less. Morelli tends to be playful during foreplay. When the foreplay gives way to more serious action Morelli makes love with a passion not easily forgotten. I was on my back on the bed, and Morelli was finger walking up the inside of my thigh. I had a grip on the sheet, and I think my eyes might have been rolled back into my head in anticipation of what was ahead.

“Do you like this?” he asked.

“Yeessss,” I said, breathless, every muscle in my body clenched.

Morelli kissed me a couple inches below my navel. “It’s about to get better.”