“Here,” I say instead, tossing the papers on the sofa before I head to the fridge to put the beers inside and adjust my cock behind the door discretely.
“Obituaries?” I hear Lucy ask as she shuffles through the papers and I pop the top on the first bottle.
“You want a beer?” I ask, looking at her over top of the fridge door.
“No thanks,” she responds absently while still reading.
“I need you to find those men’s addresses, or the addresses of their closest relatives – you know, like wives or mothers. Whatever.”
“Why do you want their addresses?” she asks.
“Can you find them or not?” I huff.
“Sure. Let me get my laptop.” Lucy walks back into her room with the papers and then returns with her laptop that she sits down on the sofa with. I saunter over with my beer in hand and hover.
When she glances up at me over the top of the screen, she says, “You can sit down. This could take me a few minutes. These things don’t happen at the speed of light.”
“I’m good standing,” I say, mostly because I want to keep wandering around the rest of her place and get a look in her bedroom even though it feels like torture. As I stroll around, I take a peek into the room where she sleeps. The overhead light reveals her purple and yellow comforter on a queen-size bed. Why does such a small person need such a big bed unless she’s planning to share it with someone else? I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that there are no handcuffs, whips, or any other kinky shit lying around. Everything is so nice and tidy. There are no dirty clothes on the floor, no sign of the black bathing suit she just took off. The only thing of interest is a paperback on the nightstand that’s turned upside down to hold her place. On the front is a shirtless man with abs of steel and his hand rubbing his way down lower…
Fuck me, it’s girl porn.
“Whatcha been reading?” I ask from the doorway, looking over my shoulder to see Lucy’s reaction from the sofa. Faster than the flip of a switch, her fingers stop racing over the keys and crimson stains both of her cheeks underneath the rims of her glasses.
“Just a regular old romance novel,” she answers before the click clack of the keyboard picks up again.
“Uh-huh,” I mutter, trying to bite back my grin. Now I’m even more curious and want to go pick up the book to see where she left off. Was she reading a sex scene last night that got her so hot that she had to slide her hand down the front of her little shorts to get herself off? Fuck, I would give anything to watch that. Ellie always claimed to be too uptight to masturbate alone, much less in front of me when I asked her to play with herself while I watched. Those were some of my favorite porn scenes to watch online when I was younger — just a naked woman alone, her legs spread wide for the camera, fingers pumping in and out of her pussy as she moans in ecstasy. There was no need for a man, because she could take care of her own needs just fine. I would always come in my hand when I closed my eyes and imagined licking her pussy after she finished.
And now I’m hard as a fucking rock yet again. Each time grows even more painful and persistent than the last. Tonight, when I go back to my apartment, I may have to pull up a video and relive those glory days when I was in high school and horny all the time no matter how many girls I fucked or how often. That was years before I met Ellie, the good, little, spoiled, rich girl who loved rough, dirty sex as much as I did.
Too bad sex wasn’t enough to hold our marriage together. If it was, we would’ve been one of those couples celebrating their fiftieth anniversary…
“Wow,” Lucy says, interrupting another trip down memory lane. “These guys were not nice people.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask as I head back over to the living room and rest my elbows on the bar counter.
“They all have criminal records a mile long.”
“I’m not surprised,” I mutter.
“Did you know them?”
“Sort of.”
“Okay, well, I have the addresses for Walter and Mario’s wives. Terry has a grown daughter, and Russell was survived only by his mother. All of them live within an hour away.”
“Great, thanks,” I tell her as I straighten up. “Can you print them for me or write them down?”
“Sure,” Lucy agrees. “Just as soon as you tell me why you need this information. The truth.”
What the fuck?
“You don’t need to know that,” I respond.
“Then you don’t need to know their addresses.” She slams her laptop shut and sets it down beside her on the sofa. With her legs crisscrossed, the move pulls her shorts even tighter to her cunt so that I can clearly see the outline of her pussy lips and the crease down the center of them.
Jesus fucking Christ. I’m so distracted by the sight that I momentarily forget what we were talking about. Oh right, she wants me to tell her why I want the addresses.
“You know I could just steal your laptop and get it, right?” I remark, glad to have the bar counter hiding the bulge in the front of my jeans.
“You would need to know my password to do that,” she says sweetly. “So, tell me the truth. I’m not handing the addresses over if you’re going to hurt these people.”
Frowning at her because that was her first thought about me, I tell her, “I’m not going to hurt them.”
“Then what are you going to do, Nash?” she asks, holding my gaze steadily, waiting like she has the patience of a saint.
Maybe it’s how she refuses to budge or the way she said my name so familiarly. Whatever it is, it makes me want to kiss her stubborn mouth to try and break her. Since that’s not going to happen, I somehow find myself telling her the truth, not just to get the information but because I feel like it’s important to finally admit it to someone and get it off my chest. “I need to try and make amends.”
“Amends? Amends for what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“How do you plan on ‘making amends’?” she asks, using finger quotes as if she thinks my intentions are sinister.
“Putting some cash in an envelope and stuffing it in their mailbox.”
“Without them knowing who it’s from?” Lucy questions.
“Right.”
“Can I come?”
“What? Come where?” I ask.
“To help you drop off the money.”
“I don’t need any help,” I mutter.
“And I don’t need to give you the addresses, so…I guess we’re at an impasse.”
This girl is such a pain in the ass. But I sort of gain some respect for her when she doesn’t cave. She’s not a pushover despite her tiny size. “Fine,” I huff.
“So, when are you doing this money drop?”
“Tonight,” I answer.
“The banks are closed.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve got the cash on hand,” I explain. “I just need to run upstairs and grab it.”
“In that case, you go get the money and I’ll go get dressed,” Lucy says as she carries her laptop with her to the bedroom and then shuts the door. It’s a shame that she won’t be wearing the pajamas, but they are definitely not appropriate on the streets. Or safe near me in close quarters like a car or my bike.