It was cold. I started rubbing her palm with my hands.“Let me sit closer.” she replied. And to my surprise, she sat between my legs, facing the TV... with me straddling her from behind. Her head was resting just below my chin. I could smell her hair. Her lower back touched my cock. There was a slight feeling in it. I kept rubbing her hand slowly pretending to watch TV. I was wearing a t shirt and shorts. She had a spaghetti top and short skirt. No wonder she complained about cold. I could see her. Every time I turned back to the Macklin case, Cozad Dillinger crowded his way back in. Gentle waves lapping at the shore. Tap, tap, tapping at my door. I could always become a Nobel poet if this gig didn’t work out.I called Carmen Ortega, “Please apologize to Sistine and Gloria. I have a possible lead on the guy who tried to kill me. I need to focus on him.”“Of course, completely understandable.”But she worked for Gloria Allen and asked, “When do you think you’ll be back on board?”I didn’t have. More

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