I Fought The Law...

"Terry, I ...." Chris gasped.

"Chris, I ...." I gasped simultaneously.

We both stopped and laughed at ourselves. After a beat, with the mood broken, Chris pulled back and asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

Accepting that the mood was broken, I stepped back, letting Chris go, and said, "Yes, please."

Chris turned, headed into the tiny kitchen nook, and asked, "Beer? Or something stronger?"

I didn't want to get wasted too quickly, so I replied, "Beer, please."

Chris pulled out two bottles, and I was pleased to see they were Pacifico Clara, a pilsner beer that was hard to find since it was brewed in Mexico. Chris must have connections to get some, and I eagerly took one of the bottles after she opened them. We both took a pull, and I loved the taste. We drifted back into the living room and sat on the couch, kicking our heels off.

I noticed a picture on the coffee table of a handsome man in a blue uniform and a lovely woman who looked like Chris. I asked, "Are those your parents?"

Chris hesitated momentarily, a sad look flashing over her face, before she said, "That's my mother and my stepfather. He was a cop, which was why I became a cop."

Noting that Chris referred to him in the past tense, I asked, "What happened to him?"

Chris was silent for a beat, and just when I thought she wouldn't answer, she said, "He was killed in an auto accident on the way to my graduation at UCLA." Her eyes were shiny from unshed tears, and I wanted to lean in and comfort her. Before I could, she shook her head, and a shaky smile appeared on her lips.

Not wanting to delve any deeper, I took another draw on my beer. We looked at each other in silence while we drank our beers. Finally, I started leaning into Chris, and she leaned into me as our lips softly pressed together.

We softly kissed, my lips gently nuzzling hers. Chris drew back, and I moaned in disappointment. She reached over, took my beer, and stood up, saying, "This way." I watched for a moment, fascinated, as Chris walked away, her hips swaying and her ass undulating. I quickly got up and followed her into her bedroom.

Chris set the beers on the nightstand beside the bed and turned to face me. Without hesitation, her fingers hooked under the hem of her dress, and she started pulling it up over her hips and then up and off over her head. I watched, my heart clenching, as she revealed her matching lace panties and bra. My nipples tightened and ached, and my pussy started burning and flowing as my eyes ate up her beauty.

Chris smiled shyly and said, "I don't usually do this on a first date."

I roused myself as she tossed her dress onto the chair in front of her vanity. I followed suit, working my dress up over my hips and up and off in one swift move, the rush of the material stimulating my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra. Following Chris's lead, I tossed my dress onto the chair.

While undressing, I said, "Technically, this is a second date if you count our meeting at Bar Chloe, so I think it's okay."

Chris's eyes were big as they ran over my body, and my body thrilled from the thought that she was apparently enjoying the sight of me as much as I enjoyed the view of her body. Finally, her eyes came up to mine, and as one, we both reached back to undo our bras. We tossed them aside, and I took in the sight of her exposed breasts. Seeing her long hard nipples proudly standing out made my mouth water as I envisioned sucking, licking, and biting them. From how she looked at me, I could tell she wanted to do the same to mine.

Chris said, "I think I can accept that."

After a brief pause, Chris hooked her thumbs under her panties and bent over to work them down over her hips before straightening up and kicking them off. I again followed suit, and we were both naked, facing each other. As one, we closed and clinched, our bodies attempting to mold together. At the same time, our lips crashed together, our mouths opened, and our tongues wrestled each other. Our breasts were crushed together, Chris's hard nipples poking my breasts as my nipples poked her breasts.

We were moaning, our moans combining to make a beautifully indescribable sound. I shifted slightly to place my left leg between Chris's legs so my mound was pressed against her left thigh. She pressed her mound against my thigh, and we started rolling our hips to generate friction. I could feel her hot juices spreading on my thigh as my juices spread over her thigh, reducing the friction I was trying to make.

We finally broke, gasping for air, staring into each other's eyes. Once I could breathe, I gasped, "I'm glad this isn't a first date."

Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bed. We both clambered on the bed and, lying on our sides, clinched again, our lips locking. My right hand drifted down over Chris's core and to her mound, feeling the heat against the palm of my hand. She lifted her left leg, tucking her foot behind her knee to give me access r and I gave her mound a quick squeeze before I started running my fingers up and down her slit. She was wet and ready, so I lubricated my finger and worked it between her lips, finding her entrance and easing my finger into it.

Almost immediately, I felt Chris's hand on my mound, and I lifted my right leg and tucked my foot behind my knee to give her access. Soon, we were both pistoning fingers in and out of the other's holes as our kissing continued. It quickly became a race to see who could bring the other to orgasm first. As my orgasm rose to crash over me, I could feel that Chris was close, too. We both moaned, "Oh, God!" and came undone together, my orgasm crashing down over me and sweeping me away like so much flotsam ...

... I lost track of time, and my world consisted only of Chris and I and how we brought each other to orgasm. It turned out that we really worked well together tribbing. We really enjoyed getting each other off by grinding our pussies together. We always came together before collapsing onto the bed while catching our breaths and enjoying the afterglow. However, I loved diving tongue first into Chris's pussy, exploring every fold and crevasse of her lips and hole. I loved the noises she made and how her entire body strained and arched when she came undone from my sucking her clit into my mouth and lashing it with my tongue.

Finally, we could go no more, and we wound up holding each other while working through our final afterglow. As I held Chris, I thought about everything we had done and realized I really enjoyed my night with Chris. Chris soon fell asleep, and I planned how I would ease myself out of bed without disturbing her.

I was never one to fall asleep after a vigorous bout of sex, so I was dressing and planning to leave as I usually did. As I looked down on Chris while I finished dressing, the dim light of the street light coming in around the drapes highlighted the relaxed look on Chris's face as she lightly snored. At that moment, I felt something I had never experienced with the many women I'd gone home with. Usually, after a night of sex with a new conquest, I just walked away, and that would be the end of it. This feeling was different, nearly overwhelming, and it scared me. This time, I didn't want to do that. I wanted to see Chris again and explore this new feeling.

As I turned to walk out of the bedroom, Chris stirred and murmured, "Please don't go."

That simple and heartfelt plea made me tear up, and for the first time ever, I whispered, "I won't."

As I returned to the bed and began undressing, Chris stirred again and murmured, "Good."

When I was naked, I crawled back into bed with Chris and spooned up against her. She wriggled into me and murmured, "Please hold me."

My eyes burned with unshed tears as I draped my arm over her ribs and whispered, "Always."

For the first time in a long, long time, I fell asleep next to someone else.

December 1987

The past two months had gone by in a whirlwind. Chris and I had seen each other at least two or three times a week, depending on our busy schedules. I was seriously considering making Chris a permanent part of my life. I started reconsidering my plans to wait until I was forty to retire from my life of crime. After all, how would I explain to Chris the activities I would need to participate in to pull off a job, especially if a lot of travel was involved?

Luckily, I had come out of Black Monday in October making a small fortune due to my accountant, Jim, making some good calls on buying $150 Puts on IBM stock for me. It had dropped from $150/share to $100/share that day, instantly making the Puts worth $50/share after buying them for just $0.0625/share just a month earlier. So, those who sold the Puts had to buy IBM stock from me for $150/share (when I could buy it for only $100/share) or pay me the difference by purchasing the Put. Each Put was for 100 shares of IBM, so the 1,000 Puts Jim had bought for $6,250 made me a cool $5,000,000. That more than covered the losses on the IBM stocks that I owned along with the other stocks in my portfolio. Luckily, the Dow Jones was quickly recovering, and my portfolio was doing the same.

The one thing that worried me was that Jim had contacted me to tell me that the IRS had called him and wanted him to come in and talk to them about some of the accounts he was managing, including my legitimate business accounts. He told me not to worry since he was sure it just had to do with some new rules and regulations that the IRS had implemented. However, I was on pins and needles, remembering Mr. Wilson's warning. After spending several hours with the IRS, Jim called me. He told me that the IRS had ended the investigation, saying everything he had done with the accounts was legitimate.

We celebrated Chris's birthday last month, painting the town red. It took a day to recover from all of the drinking we had done before ending up in bed. The investigation into the Getty Villa Museum robbery hadn't gotten anywhere, and I was starting to think it would end up unresolved. Chris never once indicated that she suspected I was a person of interest, and I was beginning to wonder if the warning I had received from Mr. Wilson had been a false alarm.

Chris didn't share much with me, occasionally asking questions about security systems and whether they could be compromised. I didn't press her about the details of the investigation, but I could tell from her actions that she was displeased with how it was going. However, for the last two weeks, Chris had been more distant, begging off from a couple of dates. When we did see each other, she seemed distracted, and I was starting to wonder if something was up.

When I entered the office before heading off to a meeting with a new client, Stephanie grinned at me and, without a word, handed me a cup of hot coffee. I took a sip, enjoying the taste and anticipating the caffeine jolt before I said, "Thanks, Stephanie. I really need that."

"No problem, boss," Stephanie said. "I figured you would."

After a second and bigger sip, I asked, "Anything new before I head out?"

"I heard on the news this morning that there will be a news conference today about the Getty Villa Museum robbery. Apparently, there's been a big break in the case," Stephanie said. "Didn't Detective Graham mention it to you last night?"

I was stunned by what Stephanie said. Chris had given no indication last night when we had talked that there had been a break in the case. I quickly answered, "No, the subject never really came up last night."

"Oh?" Stephanie remarked, raising an eyebrow. "So, just what did you two discuss last night?"

I started, "I'm afraid that's 'Need to Know'...."

"... and I don't need to know," Stephanie finished with a grin.

"Anything else before I go?" I asked, as I retrieved my files from my desk and put them in my valise.

"Your accountant left a message to call him," Stephanie said as she followed me to the door. "He sounded serious."

Jim always sounded serious whenever he called, so I didn't worry too much about that, making a mental note to call him when I got back. "Thanks, Stephanie. If he calls again, tell him I'll call him as soon as possible," I threw back over my shoulder as I left.

On my way out to my car, I wondered why Chris hadn't mentioned that a big announcement about the case would be made today. I knew she had been busy, so we hadn't seen each other last night, although we had talked on the phone. I got in my car and drove to the Wilshire Art Gallery in Wilshire Park. When I arrived, I had my head in the game, so I got right to business with the owner. I described the services my company could provide, offering options ranging from passive-only to all-active monitoring. By the time my hour with her was up, I knew I had a customer. The only negotiating left would be which packages and options would be in the final contract. I left her with the promotional material, and she promised to get back to me after meeting with her investors with her final decision.

I left, buoyed by the new customer I would add to my roster. As I was returning to the office, I decided to tune into the news conference this afternoon to see what the breaking news was. Until then, I wasn't going to worry about whether or not it had anything to do with me.

"Boss, your accountant called again," Stephanie said as soon as I entered the lobby. "He really wants to talk to you."

I assured her I'd call him immediately and headed into my office. I quickly dialed his number, and when he answered the phone, I asked, "What's up, Jim?"

"Terry, I received a call from the IRS last night," Jim started. "They want me to come in to talk to them again about the accounts, including yours, which they had asked about before. I thought we had cleared them up the last time I met with them."

"Did they say anything different than last time?" I asked.

"Yes," Jim answered. "They seemed interested in business expenses and wanted more details and receipts. I'm sure everything we've done in that respect was done properly, but somebody in the IRS seems to think I've done something that's bent the rules."

I was relieved to hear that. Apparently, the IRS wasn't aware of the off-shore accounts Jim was handling for me. I asked, "Do I need to worry about anything?"

"I don't know," Jim said. "I thought we'd satisfied them last time. Apparently, they still have some questions. Or, they could be fishing for something."

I knew Jim didn't want to say anything over the phone that could be incriminating, so he was hinting that the IRS may have their eye on all of my accounts, not just the legitimate ones related to my consultancy. I said, "Okay, Jim. Can we get together to discuss this? Maybe do lunch?"

"I'm a little busy this week. How about we get together next Tuesday?" Jim replied.

"I'll put it on my calendar," I said. "Thanks for the heads up, Jim."

We exchanged goodbyes, and after letting Stephanie know about my meeting with Jim and assuring her everything was okay, I spent the next half hour calling a few of my contacts to find out what the news conference was about. No one knew anything they were willing to tell me, so by the time I was done, I didn't know any more than when I started. Frustrated, I decided to go to Jack's for lunch. I almost called Chris before I left, but I didn't want her to see me worried about anything.

It was a beautiful day, 72 degrees and sunny, despite being nearly Christmas, just the way I liked it. By the time I got to Jack's, I was feeling better and was looking forward to lunch. I found a nearby parking spot and walked down the hill toward the restaurant. When I entered, Christy greeted me and led me to my table. Bonnie was my waitress today, greeting me with a smile and my 'Arnold Palmer.' We chatted for a moment before I ordered my salad. Bonnie bounced off to put my order in, and I again enjoyed the view.

Bonnie brought my salad to me, and we chatted for a moment, telling me about Virginia's promotion ceremony and how proud she was of Virginia now being a Major before she headed off to take care of another customer. I dug into my salad and finished it quickly, wanting to get back to the office and tune in to the news conference to see what the big break was.

When I returned to the office, Stephanie had several messages for me, one from Chris. I went into my office and called her number. Unfortunately, there was no answer. I assumed she had been called away on a case and made a note to call her again later. I quickly went through all the other calls, most of them my contacts I had asked to call me. Again, no one I talked to knew what the news conference was about.

Shortly before the scheduled time for the news conference, I went into the lounge and turned on the TV. Just as I tuned in, a spokesperson came to the podium. The room went silent before she said, "I'm sorry to inform you that this news conference is being postponed. We'll let you know when it will be rescheduled as soon as we know." She then walked away without answering any of the questions thrown at her by the press.

I looked at Stephanie and said, "Well, that was anticlimactic."

"I wonder what happened," she said as I turned off the TV before returning to our desks.

"I don't know," I answered. "Maybe that was why Chris was trying to call me."

"That, or she wants to see you again, Boss," Stephanie snarked.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, I tried calling Chris several times without any luck. I finally gave up on getting any work done and headed out to go home. As I pulled into my driveway to park in the garage, I noticed a familiar car parked in the street. As I drove into the garage, I saw Chris exit her vehicle. By the time I got out of my car, Chris had walked up the driveway. As we approached, I noticed her gaze rested briefly on the Toyota Corolla parked next to my "Zap Z" before her gaze returned to meet mine.

"Hello, Chris," I said with some apprehension. "I've been trying to call you all day. What's up?"

Chris' gaze flicked to the Corolla again before she sighed and said, "We need to talk. May I come in?"

"Sure," I said. "Come on in, and I'll get us a drink, and then we can talk."

"Thanks," Chris said, falling in behind me.

As I unlocked the door and disabled the alarm, I asked, "Do you want a beer or something stronger?"

As I entered the kitchen with Chris close behind me, she said, "Something stronger, please."

I hung my bag over the back of a kitchen chair. I said, "Pull up a chair," as I headed to the cabinet and pulled out my bottle of Maker's Mark, my go-to bourbon whiskey for when I wanted something strong. I grabbed a couple of shot glasses and sat down at the table.

I saw Chris' eyes light up when she saw what I was serving. I quickly poured two shots, and we picked up the glasses. After clincking them together, we threw back the contents and went, "Ahh," simultaneously.

I looked Chris in the eye and asked, "What do we need to talk about?" hoping it wasn't bad news, remembering how Chris had been so distant the last two weeks.

Chris reached across the table, took my hand in hers, and looked at me earnestly as she said, "I need to know that this is real."

I didn't expect that, and I must have shown my surprise because Chris then said, "I know you have feelings for me, and I want you to know that I have feelings for you." She looked away for a moment before locking eyes with me again. "It's more than feelings, actually. You are on my mind day and night, and it's interfering with my ability to do my job."

I thought Chris was finished, and just as I opened my mouth to answer, she said, "I love you, Terry. From the first time I saw you, I wanted to get to know you better, spend every minute I could with you, and experience life with you." She paused and looked away again before turning back to me, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "I need to know that you feel the same way about me. I need to hear you say it."