I Fought The Law...

I thought about how easy it would be to lean in and hope she did the same. "Oh, Chris, I want to kiss you," I thought. Before I knew it, I started leaning in, and Chris did, too, our eyes wide and locked. I flicked my eyes down to her lips and back up, and she did the same, answering my unspoken question. "Oh, God, it's going to happen," I thought.

We both tilted our heads to the right just before our lips met. When our lips gently touched, we both stopped momentarily before pressing in. Chris's lips were warm and soft, and I softly moaned my approval. She responded with a soft moan that sent chills through my body.

Without thinking, I brought my hands up to cup Chris's face, and her hands did the same to my face. Despite my intense desire to press in and extend the kiss, I pulled back and heard a small moan of disappointment come out of Chris's mouth. That sound reverberated through my body, making it thrum with excitement. I pressed in again, and our mouths opened simultaneously, our tongues plundering each other's mouths.

Time lost all meaning while I enjoyed the taste of Chris's mouth. After an eternity, I finally broke off the kiss, needing oxygen before I passed out. Chris was gasping too, and we both withdrew, sitting upright and recovering. I flicked my eyes around the room to see if anyone had seen anything. The bartender, with a silly grin, was the only indication that anyone had seen anything.

I looked at Chris and smiled, getting a smile in return. Before we were tempted to lean in for another kiss, we both leaned back and took another pull from our bottles. I asked, "So, did the cameras from the church catch anything else?"

Chris quickly picked up on the change of subject and said, "Unfortunately, none of the cameras could see the trailhead or the parking lot across the street in enough detail to see if the person we caught going across the scrub came off the trail. We saw signs of a vehicle arriving shortly before the robbery and several leaving shortly after the robbery. Still, we have no idea if they were the same vehicle since several vehicles were detected coming and going throughout the time frame."

I shook my head and asked, "Where else could they have gone?"

"It's hard to say," Chris replied. "They could have walked over the hills into Encino, but they'd have to be a dedicated hiker. It's also possible they hiked over to Paseo Miramar, but there's no parking at that trailhead. It would only be reasonable that they parked at the Los Lionis Trail trailhead."

"That makes sense," I said. "Anyone would want to be able to get in and out easily. At that time of the night, it would be unusual to see someone on the trail."

"We did access the security cameras at the firehouse on the corner of Los Liones and Sunset, but there was so much traffic, we couldn't pull out anything that looked suspicious," Chris said.

When I heard that, I felt some relief. I had known security cameras would be at the firehouse. However, they would have been focused on the facilities and out onto Sunset Boulevard. The fence around the firehouse went along Los Liones Drive, so no vehicles coming into and out of Los Liones Drive would have been seen unless they turned North onto Sunset Boulevard, where they would pass in front of the fire station. I felt confident that while the police knew there was a fifth person, they didn't have any evidence of where they had come from or gone.

The waitress came over to check on us, so we ordered another round of Coronas. We sat there looking at each other in silence as I thought about the kiss we just shared. I had really enjoyed it and hoped Chris had, too. I noted the pensive look on Chris's face and asked, "What's on your mind, Chris?"

After a moment's silence, Chris quietly asked, "Why do they do it?" She paused and then continued, "I mean, why do people covet those old antiquities so much? If they want to see them, all they have to do is visit the museum. Taking it and putting it on display somewhere that only they can see it is just so ... selfish."

I nodded in sympathy with Chris's question. Personally, I only stole them for the thrill and the knowledge that I could outsmart the people trying to keep me from taking them. That and the money my clients paid me didn't hurt, either. What my clients did with them wasn't any of my business. Personally, I knew how insidious compulsive collecting was, having fought it my whole life. I knew Chris was only musing, but I went ahead and answered, "To some, collecting something is a compulsion that is extremely hard to resist. After all, the best museum curators suffer from that compulsion and will go to enormous lengths to build the best collections legally."

Chris perked up and leaned forward, asking, "Then why take something and immediately put it back? That's more like a thrill seeker than a collector." Chris's eyes widened as though a thought had suddenly occurred to her. She grinned and said, "Or, it could be someone wanting to drum up business for themselves, say, a security expert who got underbid for a security contract and wanting to prove the museum had made a mistake."

I froze as Chris's eyes locked with mine. "Oh, God, she does suspect me," went through my mind as I tried to come up with a response that didn't sound panicky or guilty.

Before I could put a coherent sentence together, Chris laughed and chuckled, "Oh, God, Terry, you should see your face!"

I realized that Chris was only yanking my chain, and I reached over and punched her in the arm. "That's not funny, Chris," I said before laughing at Chris's reaction to my punch. After a beat, we both leaned back and took a pull on our beers as we grinned at each other. I loved that Chris had a wicked sense of humor and wasn't afraid to share it with me.

Before the comfortable silence dragged on too long, I said, "While robbing clients of my competitors is not a part of my business plan, I will admit to wanting to take advantage of the situation without saying 'I told you so' to future potential clients."

Chris laughed, and I loved its sound and wanted to keep hearing it. I almost wished I hadn't met her under these circumstances. I would have loved to be able to be totally open with her, but having to watch what was said around her made the whole experience less than it could have been.

"I can't blame you for taking advantage of the situation," Chris said. "If you didn't, it would be obvious to all potential customers that your heart really wasn't into it."

With that, we discussed what we had seen at the museum. I suggested some things that Chris could look into about the four-man crew, particularly a couple of their other jobs, that sounded helpful but I knew would lead nowhere. I avoided talking about the Grecian urn theft and return, not wanting to give anything away that could point Chris to suspecting me.

Although neither of us wanted it to end, it eventually got late enough that Chris had to beg off, saying that she needed to return to her desk. I suggested we get back together in a week to review any breaks in the case. Chris agreed and added that if anything came up in the meantime, to give her a call. I gave her my home phone number in case she couldn't reach me at the office. Chris gave me her card, and I noticed her home phone number was on the back.

We parted, standing next to our cars as we chatted briefly about current events, not wanting to end our time together. Finally, Chris climbed into her car to answer a radio call, so I got in my car and headed home.

When I got home, I found a note slid under my door. It was from Mr. Wilson, asking for a meeting at Jack's Salad Bar and Grill for the following day. After reading his note, I wondered why I was being contacted so soon after the just-completed job. I briefly wondered if Brian wanted me to steal the Grecian urn again. If so, I was going to have to decline.

I spent the rest of the evening researching a new series of security locks from Banham Patent Locks, a lock maker from the UK. They had developed new twists on security locks that I wanted to become more familiar with. When I prepared for bed, I thought about Chris and our kiss.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I tried to imagine that Chris was standing behind me. Her arms went around me, and her left hand came up and cupped my right breast, capturing my nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Her right hand drifted down over my core and cupped my pussy, squeezing it.

I leaned back into her, imagining her hard nipples digging into my shoulder blades. I could feel her warm breath on my neck as she nuzzled my ear. I felt her finger work its way between my lips, gathering up my juices as it traveled up and down my slit. I gasped as her finger plunged into my hole, swirling around, brushing my G-spot, and sending impulses shooting through my body. I moaned my pleasure as Chris tightened her grip on my breast, pinching my stiff, aching nipple.

She started pistoning her finger in and out of my hole as I started rolling my hips in counterthrusts. I felt a second finger join the first, stretching and filling me as I got closer to my needed orgasm. I imagined Chris's lips nuzzling my ear and her teeth capturing my earlobe and nipping it just as I crashed into my orgasm. I moaned, Oh, God, Chris," as my body spasmed and my legs gave away.

I caught myself on the sink before I collapsed to the floor, gasping as I tried to get myself under control. After a minute or two, I straightened up. I finished my toilet before donning a sleeping tee and panties before getting into my bed. I fell asleep immediately, and my dreams were dominated by thoughts of Chris and how I wanted to do more than taste her lips ...

... My morning in the office was a blur as I wondered what Mr. Wilson wanted to see me about between thoughts about Chris. I wanted to see her again, but I couldn't come up with a valid reason. Finally, it was time to head to Jack's, so I headed out after letting Stephanie know where I was going.

When I got to Jack's, I went in, and Christy took me to my table after I told her I was expecting a guest. Christy informed me that Melanie would be my waitress today, a relatively new girl. She had waited on me a couple of times, so she greeted me with a smile and my name. After placing my order, I looked around and checked the atmosphere. Everything seemed fine, and nothing appeared out of place, so I relaxed and waited for Mr. Wilson to show.

I was already eating my salad when I saw Christy leading Mr. Wilson to my table. I stood up to greet him and was dismayed that he seemed to be in a more somber mood than usual. I decided not to get cheeky with him, sat down, and asked, "What's on your mind, Mr. Wilson?"

Mr. Wilson cleared his throat and said, "First, my client apologizes for contacting you so soon after the business just concluded, but he has acquired some information that he felt you would want to know."

"Oh? Is this about a certain artifact that went missing before suddenly reappearing?" I asked, intrigued.

Mr. Wilson smiled a tight smile and said, "Partially. My client wants to assure you that the artifact's return was planned and should not be seen as a reflection of the work you did for him. He was quite pleased with how you did the job for him." He paused before continuing, "He wants you to be careful working with Detective Graham."

Surprised that Brian kept that close of a tab on me, I said, "I'm not planning to confess my crimes to her if that's what Brian is concerned about."

"No, Ms. Sanders, my client isn't worried about that," Mr. Wilson replied. "His concern has to do with the fact that Detective Graham has requested the files from the previous two jobs that you performed and has contacted the IRS about your tax returns."

I was stunned to hear that. How could Chris have known what jobs I had done before? I had gotten away cleanly from them, so what evidence did she have to go on to associate those jobs with me? I reviewed all my jobs in my head, trying to see if a pattern could have been discerned in them but came up empty. I gathered myself and said, "Please tell Brian I appreciate his warning. I will be careful in my dealings with Detective Graham."

"Very good, Ms. Sanders. I'll be on my way, then. Good day," Mr. Wilson said as he rose and left, leaving me wondering what I'd gotten myself into. I finished my salad, not really tasting it as I mulled over what I had learned. I should have been surprised that Brian seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. But Brian wouldn't be in the position he was in if he didn't, so I had to wonder why he was helping me.

By the time I got back to my office, I had resolved to take Brian's warning to heart and disengage from Chris as quickly as possible without raising any suspicions about doing so. I dove into my work, putting together a security plan for a new client that I got because of the recent robbery. This small art gallery in downtown LA occupied half of an old stand-alone brick building. This posed some issues that I felt I could overcome with the latest technology available.

My phone buzzed, breaking me out of my deep thinking. I answered it, and Stephanie said, "You have a call on line two." I could hear her smile over the line, so I knew it was Chris calling.

I picked up line two and said, "Sanders Security. How may I help you?"

When Chris said, "Hello, Terry. I hope you are having a good day?" my resolve flew out the window as her sultry voice made my whole body thrum.

"Well, it's certainly better now," I said. Remembering what Mr. Wilson had told me, I cautiously asked, "Why the call?"

Chris shyly replied, "Well, after last evening, I was hoping we could get together for dinner?"

I felt a little giddy but cautioned myself to be careful as I said, "That sounds like something I could agree to."

"Good," Chris said, sounding relieved. I wondered if her nervousness was due to wanting to get to know me better or just wanting to get close to me to keep an eye on me. I also wondered if I would double-think everything like this, making me crazy. Chris said, "I was thinking we could meet up at Cole's on 6th Street?"

Cole's French Dip was a landmark in LA, having been in the same location since 1908. Chris was serious about wanting to impress me by suggesting we meet up there. I said, "That sounds wonderful. I've always wanted to go there."

"Shall we meet at 7:30?" Chris asked.

"Yes, that will be fine," I said, already planning how I would get home, change, and get downtown by the suggested time. It was doable, and I appreciated that Chris had called early enough to give me enough time. "I'm looking forward to seeing you," I finished.

"Great," Chris said. "I'll see you there. Goodbye, Terry."

"Goodbye, Chris," I replied and hung up the phone. I sat there for a moment, pondering what I was getting into. Remembering one of my favorite quotes from 'Godfather II,' "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," I figured that I could keep tabs on Chris better if I saw her regularly. It didn't hurt that she was easy on the eyes, so I just had to be careful not to give anything away while with her.

My door opened, and Stephanie stuck her head in, a big grin on her face. She said, "Shall I assume from the dreamy look on your face that you're seeing Detective Graham again?"

I tried to put a stern look on my face, but instead, we giggled like schoolgirls. I finally said, "I'm leaving now. Don't expect me to be in early."

"Don't forget your ten o'clock meeting with the people from 'The American Native Museum,'" Stephanie said.

"I won't," I said as I locked up my desk and walked out into the reception area. I left and headed home to get ready for my date. As I pondered what to wear, I had to consider what outcome I wanted. Did I want to only have a fun night with her, or did I want her to invite me back to her place? As I performed my toilet, I decided for the latter and decided to wear a little black number that screamed: "Take me!" I checked how I looked in the mirror, hoping Chris would like it. I donned my heels and ensured my S&W .38 revolver was in my clutch before heading downtown.

It was nearly 7:30PM when I found a parking spot on 6th Street and walked up to Cole's. Chris was waiting outside the door, looking stunning in an off-the-shoulder red mid-thigh sweater dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. I had never seen her legs before, and they were stunning; her three-inch heels made them and her ass look good.

"Hello, Terry," Chris said, putting out a hand. "Thanks for coming."

I took her hand in mine and pressed it, saying, "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, Chris."

Our eyes locked, and our hand-holding stretched out as I reveled in the feelings coursing through my body. My nipples tightened, and stood up. My pussy heated up, and I saw Chris's eyes widen as a flush rose from her chest to her throat.

A car horn brought me back to reality, and I let go of her hand. Chris turned and pulled the door open, indicating that I go first. As I crossed the threshold, I felt a momentary light touch on the small of my back as Chris followed me inside. The interior was brightly lit, and a low roar of voices and music smacked me in the face.

We approached the hostess desk, and Chris said, "Reservations for Graham."

The hostess checked her ledger, smiled, and said, "Your table is waiting, Ms. Graham. Please follow me."

Chris and I filed behind her as we wended between the tables toward the back of the room. She motioned to a table against the wall. "Here's your table. Miranda will be your server," she said as we sat, and she handed us menus.

We poured over the beer selections, and I saw they had Modelo Especial, a beer I had recently tried and loved. I ordered that while Chris chose Sam Adams Boston Lager, a beer I hadn't tried before. When Miranda came to take our orders, that's what we ordered, getting a big smile from her. Deciding what to eat wasn't difficult ... you came to Cole's for their French Dips. We agreed on side salads to go with them, so when Miranda returned with our beer, we quickly ordered our meals.

We tapped the necks of our bottles together before taking a pull. I wasn't disappointed with the crisp, clean taste of my beer. I asked Chris how hers was, and she offered her bottle to me to take a sip. I did, and I loved the taste, making a note to order it for myself when I could. I complimented her for her taste in beer, getting a smile from her.

We chatted about current events while we waited for our food. I didn't want to discuss the robbery and assumed Chris was trying to do the same. When our food arrived, we both dug in, enjoying the delicious French Dip and our salads. Soon, we were both finished with our food and sat there, gazing into each others' eyes.

When Miranda came around and asked us if we wanted another round of beers, Chris and I exchanged a look, and Chris declined, asking for the check. She covered the bill, and we got up to leave. Once outside, we stood there talking, avoiding wanting to end the evening. I kept hoping Chris would invite me to her place as we spoke. Finally, just as I decided she wasn't going to, and I began to make a move, Chris shyly asked, "So, would you like to come back to my place?"

I quickly said, "I'd love to." Chris gave me her address and directions to get there, and we got in our cars and left. I managed to stay with her, and we eventually got to her apartment building in Arlington Heights. Chris showed me where to park, and we walked up to her apartment. When we entered, I looked around, noticing how Spartan it appeared while Chris locked up her firearm. We closed and clinched when Chris turned to me, and our lips crashed together.

The world went away, and all that existed was Chris's body pressed against mine, our mouths open, and our tongues battling for supremacy. My hands wandered up and down Chris's back, cupping her taut ass before sliding up and back down to cup her ass again. I felt her hands on my back doing the same. Finally, we broke, gasping for air, foreheads together, staring into each other's eyes.