Got the Life (A Nicki Sosebee Novel) (7 page)

God, she felt giddy again after finally calming down enough this morning to act
like a
professional.  She turned around, hoping she’d managed to wipe the shit-eating grin off her face.  Sean looked up from the bike.  “You
know
that guy?”

Nicki shrugged her shoulders and walked closer.  “Yeah.”

Sean squatted, looking at the bike up close.  “How
’d
you meet him?”

“At
Napoli
.”

“How long have you known him?”

Nicki swallowed.  Why the third degree?  “Since last night.”  Sean shook his head and jotted something on his pad.  Time for Nicki to change the subject.
  She didn’t feel like getting grilled.
  “So…get this.  I wait down at the police station for almost an hour
this morning
until this fucking detective decides to grace me with his presence.  Then, when he finally talks to me, he tells me he can’t tell me a damn thing!”

Sean looked up at her.  “Don’t look at me.  You know how I feel about cops.”

Nicki nodded.  “So he told me I had to talk to the DA to get more info.  He did tell me, at least, that Edwards is out on bail.  So I
went
to the DA’s office. 
T
hey
didn’t make me sit around, but they did say I have to talk to the Assistant DA Paul Sanders, and he can’t see me until
tomorrow.  So, maybe a tiny article today that he’s out on bail, but maybe I’ll have more
stuff
tomorrow—something for a big story.”

“I hope so.”  Sean was distracted.  Fine.
  Nicki knew better—he had a bike in front of him that needed his full adoration and attention.  Nicki was no competition.

“Well, I’m going to see if Neal wants me to write something up on today or not.  See you later.”

Sean grunted something but was really into the bike.
 
Jesus,
he could at least say goodbye.
  What t
he fuck was his problem?  Not hers, and she started to walk back toward the front of the shop.  Carlos was just coming in and this time he grabbed her about t
he waist.  He was quiet
.  “So can I call you later and let you know what’s going on?”

She smiled. 
“You better.”
  Carlos kissed her, a deep, toe-curling kiss, holding her in that tight embrace
he’d introduced to her
last night.

“Until then,
mi dulzura
.”

Chapter Eight

LO AND BEHOLD
, Nicki
did
get that call.
  She was at
Napoli
, and he called after five.  So the miracle worker Sean wasn’t able to fix Carlos’s bike in one day’s time?  Nicki couldn’t muster up any tears about that.  “But I do have some bad news,
mi dulzura.
”

“What’s that?”

“I checked out of my hotel room this morning.  I’m staying with some generous friends.  But it’s a bit…
crowded
here.  I can get another room if you’d like
, but I can assure you that you don’t want to come over here
.”
  His voice sounded guttural.  “I want you all to myself.”

God, he gave her shivers. 
“I have my own place.”  Precisely why she’d gotten rid of roommates four years ago.  Apartment walls were thin, especially in your own apartment.  She didn’t like hearing her roommates having the time of their lives when she was alone, and she didn’t like the idea of them
overhearing when she
told
a guy at the top of her lungs to fuck her like there was no tomorrow
.  Having her own place was pure freedom and worth every penny of the two extra jobs.  “Why don’t you meet me there after work?”

He agreed—he
did
have access to a vehicle, thanks to his friends—and she gave him the address.  He would be there around eleven and sit tight until she arrived.  Luckily, she had Deanna on the floor tonight, and Deanna was a great waitress.  She wasn’t much on teamwork, but she always managed to pull her own weight.  Brian was there too, but his lameness was counterbalanced by Deanna.  And, it turned out, he wasn’t half-bad tonight anyway.
  So, in spite of how busy they were, Nicki was able to leave a few minutes before eleven.

She didn’t see Carlos leaning against the black truck in front of the building.  Nicki didn’t pay much attention to the vehicles in front of the building anyway, because she had new neighbors every few months, so why bother to get to know them?

The complex was noisy tonight.  It sounded like several of the tenants were playing in the pool on the other side of the building Nicki was in, and they were being loud.  Nicki knew some of the older tenants would be calling the cops later if the rowdy bunch didn’t settle down.  The noise distracted her, though, so she didn’t hear Carlos
walking
behind her.  As she inserted the key into the lock in her ground floor apartment, she felt hands slide around her waist, making her gasp
with fear at first
.  But then she realized who it must be, and his lips on her bare neck confirmed it.
  She unlocked the door, turned the knob, and it creaked open, but she felt paralyzed.  She couldn’t even turn around.  She just bent her neck to give Carlos better exposure as a tiny groan escaped her lips.

His left hand moved from her waist and cupped her right breast, and even through the heavy fabric of her shirt, she felt her nipple harden at his attention.  His other hand moved to her waistband, where he began unbuttoning her pants. 
What was he doing?
  She didn’t want him to get into her pants in front of her apartment, but she couldn’t ask him to stop.  It felt too good.
  And her outside light was off, so there was no spotlight on the activity.
  So when his fingers found their way under the snug confines of her panties, she felt her breathing grow heavier, and she just let herself go.  Carlos’s lips and tongue still ravished her neck.  “Come for me,
mi dulzura.
”  Her right arm dropped the purse in her hands and she lifted it
up, winding her fingers through his hair.

“Mmmm,” she purred, getting closer.

“That’s right.”  His other hand had unbuttoned the top one on her shirt and had made its way inside, and it was working the same magic on her nipple that the other was doing to her clit.  She felt herself coming and grabbed on to the doorjamb, stuffing her mouth onto her forearm to stop herself from waking
any
neighbors
who might be asleep
.

She felt a fine sheen of perspiration cross her brow as she caught her breath.  Carlos extricated his hand from her pants and picked up her purse.  Her legs felt like jelly.  “So, this is home?”

Nicki managed a smile and pulled the key out of the lock, reaching inside the doorway and turning on the light.  “Yep. 
Mi casa es su casa
, right?”

He followed her inside.  “
Muy bien
…very good.”

She took a deep breath and zipped the pants up, not bothering with the button.  She didn’t plan on wearing the uniform for too long.  “So, can I get you something to drink?”

He declined
and sat on a beige chair in her living room
. 
So after Nicki drank a tall glass of water, she returned the favor and gave Carlos a long, drawn-out blow job
where he sat
, her uniform still on.  Then she insisted on a shower.  He joined her and shampooed her hair, and then they made love one
more
time, in her bed of all places.  As Nicki drifted off to sleep, she heard the sounds of the pool party dying down at last.

* * *

She awoke the next morning as
the sun was starting to fill her room.  Carlos was getting out of bed.  “Leaving so soon?”

He nodded.  “It’s after seven.  I need to return the truck to my friends, and I promised to spend breakfast with them.  And then I need to call your friend after eight and see how much more time he thinks he’ll need to fix my bike.”

Nicki stretched and sat up, the sheet falling
to her waist
.  “Did he say what the problem is?”

“Mmm…you shouldn’t do that,” he said, looking at her breasts.  “It makes it hard to leave.”

Nicki grinned
, locking her hands together behind her head, making her breasts more prominent
.  “Don’t you want to say goodbye first?”  And so he did…in the language of love.  Luckily for Nicki, he was fluent in that tongue.

After he left, she showered and dressed.  She planned today to interview Jason Edwards himself.  Neal had let her write a little two-paragraph blurb recapping his case and mentioning that Edwards posted bail, but she needed something for today
, and talking to both Edwards and the DA’s office would look great
. 
She was still irritated that they hadn’t talked to her yesterday. 
Either they were putting her off or they really were busy. 
Goddamn,
she couldn’t wait until she had more clout with the town.  She was certain that if her name was as well-kn
own as their star reporter,
someone
there
would have met with her that day.  She knew part of that was small-town politics too.  It didn’t matter that
Winchester
was no longer a town—it was more like a small city nowadays—the
mentality was still small town.  So she’d have to wait until the DA’s office was good and ready.

She’d written down the address on her steno pad.  She knew the street, so she headed
across town. 
It was nine o’clock, not too early and—
thank goodness
—not too hot yet.  She’d dressed more conservatively today.  First, because she was going to be interviewing an alleged felon, and she didn’t need to give him any ideas.  Second, because she was going to the DA’s office
after
, and she knew she’d never be taken seriously if she couldn’t cover her
tits
and
thighs
.  So she wore a dark blue pantsuit with a sleeveless white blouse and low white heels.  She had her hair pulled into a loose bun and wore two tiny gold post earrings.

When she pulled up to the address, she locked her purse in the car and dropped her car keys in her jacket pocket.  The only other things she took were her pad and pen and press card.  She took a deep breath.  She still didn’t feel like a full-fledged reporter yet, but she knew just doing it was the training she needed.

She made sure her stride was confident as she walked up the sidewalk to the door.  The lawn was really just a little bit of grass, some green, some yellow, mixed with ragweeds and crabgrass, and there was a big plastic toy car, one that a child could sit in, tilted on its side.  There was a gray garden hose with a sprinkler on its end, but Nicki doubted it had been used much.  On the other side of the lawn was a child’s plastic swimming pool, but dirt covered the bottom.  It hadn’t been used this summer either.

She reached the door and pressed the doorbell.  She heard it ring inside and heard commotion inside.  “Goddammit, mom, can you get the door?”

This was going to be pleasant.

The temperature might have only been in the low seventies but Nicki felt the sweat beginning to bead up under her bun and behind her collar.  She knew it was her nerves, but she
reminded herself
she could charm people.  She just had to be polite.  Surely Edwards wanted to tell his side of the story.

At last, the door
knob turned
.
  The screen door remained closed while a
n older woman with dark hair streaked with gray opened the
inner
door.  The woman’s face was lined and covered in small brown age spots.  Nicki thought that—with the cocky little shit of a son who was ordering her around—it was no surprise she wasn’t aging gracefully.
  Nicki recognized her as one of the people sitting at Edwards’s arraignment.
  The woman seemed to evaluate Nicki in the swoop of her eyes.  Girls like Nicki didn’t grace her doorstep every day.  When she didn’t speak, Nicki said, “Hi.  I’m reporter Nicki Sosebee with
the
Winchester Tribune
, and I’d like to interview Jason Edwards if that’s possible.”

The woman drew i
n a breath, ready to speak
,
but was interrupted by none other than Edwards himself. 
He had grasped the edge of the wooden door, just his presence making his mother move over.  His face got close to the screen. 
Shit. 
He was even better looking up close. 
And, God, he had a pierced eyebrow too, something Nicki hadn’t seen in court on Tuesday. 
But
—good-looking or not—h
e was more trouble than he’d ever be worth to any girl, Nicki could tell just from the temper causing his face to turn red.  “What the
fuck d
o you want to know?”