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“Tempting. What else ya’ got?” she asks, seeming intent on forcing me to ask her for a transaction straight out.
“My bedroom is much cozier than watching the game from out here,” I say. Meanwhile, I’m struck by the realization that I want to have sex with this woman. If we were in the bar together, and she was anyone else in the entire city, I would be putting it all on the line, trying to take her home by drawing on my real lines, or just manning up and asking her to dinner.
Despite the super provocative clothes she’s wearing, I’m attracted to her in other ways. Those doe eyes and that full smile are really doing it for me. But fuck, I’m going to have to arrest her, instead of doing all of the things I’m imagining. What a waste?
“What do you need?” I drawl out, while I fight off a stab of discomfort about setting up the trap like this, so neatly.
My gaze lingers on her plump golden-glossed lips for a few seconds, still wet from the earlier swipe of her tongue. Staring so intently, I can watch every move as she opens her mouth to form the reply that will allow me to lock her up behind bars. Somehow, without noticing it, I’ve moved closer to her, so close we’re breathing the same air. My breath comes short, and the waistband of my pants feel tight.
“Hey!” someone shouts, from an open window behind us, sounding furious. “This is private property! Don’t make me call the cops!”
My mood deflates instantly. Someone like this nosey neighbor called me out here in the first place; the interruption is a swift reminder that I’m here to do a job.
“Fuck!” I say, stepping back from the woman. It’s too early to have my cover blown.
“Shit!” she says, at the same time. “She’s not going to leave that window until we leave.”
We stare at each other for one frozen second before there’s another, “Take your business elsewhere!” hurled at us from the old woman.
“The woman is batshit crazy. I’m out of here,” she says quickly.
I fight the disappointment that I’m about to lose the chance to talk to the prostitute any longer. With the way she’s running away, I may never see her again. I glance back at the old lady whose eyes are about to pop out of her head as she watches to see if we’re leaving. I stare back at the prostitute who is walking away quickly. The only relief in seeing her go is the thought that I could wait and arrest someone else who’s less tempting.
“Hey! Where are you going?” I can’t help but ask, hoping for a fleeting chance she’ll invite me to come with her.
“It’s too hot out here tonight,” she says, meaning that the old lady is calling the cops. “Let’s meet back up tomorrow night when the chance of us getting arrested is much lower.”
“Tomorrow?” But I wanted you tonight.
“Yeah, tomorrow!” she yells back to me. “Same time, but this time at the park around the corner, if you’re still interested.” She takes off in the opposite direction than I need to go back to my car.
Sadly, even after she hits a corner and disappears, I’m still extremely interested in being with her tonight.
