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The Last Good Cop in Philly Started by: GavinAndTaraByrne on Oct 09, '18 02:53

He knew that any answer that involved Isabella Luciano wasn't going to be great.  He'd been ready to hear that maybe they were related distantly and maybe she was tagging along for ... whatever reason... or maybe they were old childhood friends... but marrying her brother?  The math on that one did itself and as she explained her motives, it only affirmed the things he hoped weren't true, were.

His brow furrowed for a moment, but then it faded like a storm cloud passing over the sun.  A smile grew on his face as he watched her sitting back in her seat, the way she'd withdrawn from him even as she'd put herself in front of him so boldly.  He nodded slowly.

"Well, that was about as difficult as I was guessing it would be."  He waved over the waiter and reached into his pocket.  He pulled out a few bills.  "The lady would like ice tea.  I'll have coca-cola."  He clearly had given more money than was needed for regular drinks.  The gratuity was very likely for 'complimentary hooch' as he'd put it earlier.

"Right away, Sir."  He said walking off.

Kacey turned back to Tara.  "Seems to me, that there are more than two kinds of people in this world. Way I figure it there's probably a lot more than a few kinds; but I have a special talent.  You see, some cops they have what they call a gut they can trust, me... I got a nose."  He tapped it.  

"This nose can find trouble anywhere and like people, I think trouble comes in more than one variety.  Take for example your future Sister-In-Law... she's big trouble, but she's a good person, I think - when she ain't letting other people lead her astray.  Now, I've met some bad people both as a cop and in the army and you - I didn't get vibe off you.  I think you're a fun kind of trouble, but you're not a bad person.  I think you're good too, Tara Byrne, and that's why I asked you out tonight, and I'm sure as hell happy you said yes."

He smiled at her warmly, "So, if you don't mind, now that we got that tough shit out of the way... why don't we get back to the good kind of trouble?"

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She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table.

"I'm listening."

And if you're anything like the man you seem to be, I'm going to rock your world tonight. And then tell you that I'm Jack Mezzo's Right Hand in the morning. Maybe you don't know my name... I'm guessing beat cops don't get briefed on the truly big fish and marriage alliances between cities... but I'm not going to keep any secrets about myself.

Well. Not for long. 

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"I was thinking dinner here... then maybe we go dancing at a little hole in the wall Jazz club that I may have gone to in a uniform a time or two.  This time, not for business, but for good trouble instead.  You can remind me why I need to stay in shape."  He chuckled.

"Then after that ... we see how we feel, if you're not tired I'll take you out for a walk on Race Street Pier - it's pretty down there this time of night.  If not, I'll take you back to your place, maybe next time we see each other you let me take you to Atlantic City.  We'll blow some of that savings of mine that I've got nothing good to spend on.  Maybe I'll bring you home after that trip... or... maybe we stay the weekend there, if you like."

Kacey knew he was taking a risk but the way she looked at him, he didn't think it was too big a risk.  The idea of a second date being a weekend getaway... that he might get up the nerve to try to seduce her by then, well, he sure as hell hoped he had it in him still!  Lord knew he was attracted to her, but taking a girl home wasn't something he'd done in more than just a long while.

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Tara bit her tongue slightly at "Race Street Pier" and grinned at the idea of Atlantic City.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually."

She saw the way he smiled, and she couldn't help but mirror it as the waiter approached. She deferred, letting Kacey order for both of them. When the waiter was gone, she rested her chin on her hand.

"So... who are your favorite authors?"

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Kasey asked, "Will the date end abruptly if I say D. H. Lawrence was the last author I read and I sort of it?"  He chuckled but blushed horribly.  "I'm joking!"  he insisted.  "I'm joking... well, maybe a touch.  A book that gets that much attention begs to be looked at... for literary purposes only."  He pretended to be very serious at the mention of literary purposes.

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"Literary. Purposes."

Tara practically caressed each word with her tongue as it escaped her lips.

"I'm more of a verse girl, myself."

Grinning, she lifted her glass to her lips, feeling a sort of calm wash over her. 

He knew enough about her that he didn't mind. She'd challenge him on those beliefs... tomorrow. But she wasn't taking advantage of him, keeping him in the dark. He wanted her. She wanted him. 

He still looked like a soldier, even after being out for years. She looked into his eyes, content, for now, with the silence. His eyes were light browning, full to the brim with light. He smiled, and Tara felt just a bit warmer. She leaned forward again, her mouth slightly agape.

"Tell me the truth, Officer Adams. Are you going to try to use me to get to Isabella? Or to get information?"

Her smile flashed, and it was a mix of predator and willing prey.

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"I think you know the answer to that,"  he said truthfully.  "But I also think you're the sort of woman who, if your brother or sister in law were dumb enough or sloppy enough to get into the position where a simple beat cop could beat them by having a relationship with you... that you wouldn't bat an eyelash over them doing time.  Stupid people don't last long in their line of work, and they ain't stupid, and so you ain't scared of me."

"So the same question back to you... if I kiss you right now... if I were to find myself hopelessly attracted to you, would I eventually find you leveraging that so I and my brothers in blue might look the other way from time to time?"  

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Tara took Kacey's hand. It was much bigger than hers, leathered through years of work. She slipped her other had around it too, as she felt her heartbeat pounding in her brain.

"I..."

She raised his hand to her lips, gently pressing them against his knuckles and closing her eyes. They snapped open in a moment.

"Come with me."

Tara slid out of the booth, still holding Kacey's hand as she pulled him past a confused looking waiter. They made it one step outside before she turned left, and took another few steps before turning into an alley. She only took a few steps in- enough to be shrouded in darkness, but still able to see the street. She leaned with her back against the wall, eyes closed for a moment, but opening them and looking up at him with concentrated desire.

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Kacey stared in disbelief, what the hell were the odds of this?  This was the sort of thing he'd fantasized, and arguably had the chance for with any number of working girls, mind-shattering pleasure with a beautiful woman in a terrible place.  But the urge was strong, the memory of such things pulled at him in a way that it hadn't in a very long time.  He told himself he'd kiss her, for a just a bit, then he'd put a stop to it. 

He cupped her soft face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, more aggressively than he'd meant to upon reflection later.  He pressed harder to the wall than he'd even been aware he would or could - maybe even enough to hurt her but those first few kisses were like adding air to a fire starved of it for too long.  Something was awakening in him that he didn't know that he wanted to kill again.

But his mind and body warred and somewhere past the haze of all the desire was the question of what this woman's was... perhaps she thought she had to do this, or that it had to be like this?  He'd known so many girls who had grown up... wrong.  So many young women who'd be hurt and controlled... she was involved with the mob and most women who were, they had been hurt.

The reality of that shocked him so hard that he pulled away even though his body as if he was suddenly repulsed, despite what the physical reactions of his body that he could not control so easily.  "Tara... maybe we're moving too fast?  I don't want you to... regret this... tomorrow." His words came in gasps, panting, his eyes lustful argued with his concerned tone.

"We could go somewhere..."  His words spoke concessions for his body but his brain - that angel on his shoulder wanted him to protect her even from herself.  She deserved that much for what she was giving him - even if she didn't really understand.

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Tara's breathing grew heavier as she was pressed up against the wall. He'd kissed her hard, and she'd given it back to him, her tongue stretching out and sliding against his. She panted slightly as he pulled away, listening to his words.

She was almost taken aback by much she was burning with desire, but this is how it'd always been. One night, standing against dozens or hundreds of lonely ones- one night where she truly just... lived- and took what she wanted. She felt wild. She was wild. Even more so because she knew it wouldn't last, and in more ways than one.

Tara took his hand again and pulled him, barely listening to him trying to talk her out of this. Had he really just recommended they get coffee? She grinned.

Four minutes later, they were walking from the hotel lobby into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she flung herself at him, kissing him and resting her hands against his broad shoulders.

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He couldn't handle it anymore.  Without a thought to the consequence, he threw out a hand and hit the emergency stop on the elevator.  Service lights came on, dimming the space.  At this hour, who would even notice? 

"You're relentless..." he whispered before throwing himself back into the act of kissing her, first on the lips and then her neck and ears.  He pulled her to him with one hand and the other worked his belt loose.  He almost growled as the thing would not come free fast enough.  Once it was, his hand went back to her body.  More than sex he thought, perhaps, he missed this... the smell of a woman, the warmth of her, the softness under his grip.  How had he gone so long without this feeling?

He brought her dress up over her hips as almost a matter of instinct and found himself grinding against her before there was any benefit to it.  He was an idiot teen again, so eager, so blind to whatever it was she might have been feeling.  All there was in this moment was his feelings and a thing he'd not experienced in so many years that he might as well have been finding it again for the first time.

Ambrosia.  It was the smell of her.  The feeling of heaven itself.  The taste of her kiss as she folded herself around him.  That moment of silence when it all became so real.  This wasn't a dream.  It was really happening.  She was there, her legs wrapping tight about him, her eyes locked on his, when they weren't rolling up into her head, as found himself driving her against the wall repeatedly.  The whole elevator rocked back and forth in a motion that would have terrified him at any other moment, but he was blind to anything now but what he wanted and he clung to her like she was the only thing in the world that could save him.

And then, suddenly a moment of triumph followed by a crushing wave of what felt like a defeat.  He stammered, his kiss falling away as he realized too late where this had been going all day.  Ten years was a very long time to be without so much a kind touch from the hand of an unrelated woman... let alone this.

Granted, the elevator had never been a great choice for a first encounter, they couldn't have stayed here forever... but a little longer than this might have been better.  

I just need a moment," he whispered, kissing her gently.  "You still got that room key?"  He tried to joke but some part of him was more than a little embarrassed.

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Tara had only intended to kiss him in the elevator, perhaps lead him on a bit... but she couldn't fault him for hitting the emergency stop. She felt him against him and simply wanted... more. She wrapped her legs around him, enjoying how his arms held her up effortlessly against the wall. She focused on the movement of her hips, and her tongue at his ear. He finished quickly, and she was disappointed before realizing how unfair she was being. 

Instead, she dropped back down to her feet with a grin, tugging her dress down beneath her waist again and taking his hand. She kissed him once, letting him know he was fine, before leading him out of the elevator and to their room. 

When they walked in, Tara took a few steps into the room and turned into the bathroom, leaving Kacey alone. He turned back and locked the door, listening to the sink running for a moment. Pacing anxiously, he eventually sat down on the bed. When Tara emerged from the background, her hair was pulled back- and she was only wearing a smile. 

"I know you need a moment... but I'm sure you can think of something to do with me until then."

Perhaps putting a little extra motion into her hips, she slid onto his lap and kissed his neck.

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Kacey rolled over in the morning to find that Tara was still there. 

He kissed her gently on the shoulder and as she began to stir, he pulled her tight to his chest and wrapped his arms all the way around he, throwing his lower leg over her as well so that no part of her wasn't cocooned in his embrace. 

"I'm thinking," he said softly.  "We take a shower, I make sure you're cleaned top to bottom, and then, we use those big fluffy bathrobes I see hanging in the closet and we call for room service.  We can take breakfast right out on the patio.  What do you say?"

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Tara had fallen asleep, at least for a couple hours; when she woke up, she was still tired, which was a familiar feeling. At least she'd had fun last night. She grinned- both at the soreness in her limbs and her tiredness- but she soon remembered just how fleeting any feeling of peace would be. She lay awake for a long while, staring at the wall. 

When she felt Kacey move beside her, she smiled and moved toward the shower.

She'd give herself one more hour. That's it."

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Water beat against his skin and he watched with a special interest as rivulets raced down and around her curves.  Last night he'd been consumed and enthralled by her, unable to do anything but give and take and not pause a moment to appreciate it the way he could now in the light of day.  The way she breathed and blinked as her body relaxed, the tint of her skin and how she blushed or shivered when he touched her just so.

Soaping up a cloth, he brought it across her skin gently, memorizing the hills and valleys that made up her feminine form.  He barely knew her, he realized, and what he knew should make him concerned at her motives or where this would go once he walked out the door and back into his simple life.  She was a part of one world and he another, the two worlds could be considered as opposite as day and night - how would something like this even work?  

From behind her, he kissed the place where her neck and shoulder met and watched as his hand guided the cloth over and around, and under her breasts.  She just rested against him, seeming to absorb the feel of him around her, and that willingness to trust was something he'd missed a great deal.  That openness with another human - the absence of barriers and pretense made him feel stronger than he'd felt in years.  Wordlessly he worked ever so slowly, prolonging what was normally a quick process. 

Once, what felt a lifetime ago, he'd been courageous enough to take up a gun and charge to the frontlines in another country, but the thought of leaving this hotel room, now that scared him.  Would she want to see him again?  Had this been a one-time thing, maybe a laugh at his expense even?  He craned his neck to see her face and as he did, he couldn't make himself believe that.  For a long moment, he watched the soap running down her body and he wondered what he could do or say to make this more than a one-time thing.  How he could try to make that happen without sounding like the desperate aging widower who had been given one last dance with a woman who was so far out of his league that she'd eat him alive under most any other circumstance?

Thoughts of his own loneliness brought him back to those quiet moments when he found himself thinking about Lillian so intensely he could almost feel her there with him.  It was in those visceral moments that he would have crossed hell itself to find her, just to have one more moment with her and here with Tara now, he knew why.  He stepped back from her.  She might have thought he was done washing her, but she must have sensed something had changed because she looked at him as if a little confused.

In truth, he wanted to see all of her, dressed in only the flow of the water from the shower head.  She looked back at him, nothing to hide the truth of who he was, wearing his (no doubt dumb) smile the only explanation for how he looked at her now.

"Close your eyes."  He whispered, reaching out and opening the curtain to let the cool air into the space around them.  Her body reacted instantly and Tara seemed to pull in on herself and into the hot water.  The cascade came over her face making it easy for her eyes to close as a natural reaction.  For a moment he stood there watching her, stepping out of the shower to take in the whole view - he knew she was waiting for an explanation or for the curtain to shut, but he gave her nothing just that empty moment without touch or sound.  It was the sort of space that lasted longer than moments in his life - hours and sometimes days really.  He'd become comfortable in those moments, grown to feel about them the way some men felt about a heavy blanket on a cold night.  There was something sacred in the silence, in the longing for sound... and after last night, he realized, touch as well.

With precision he caressed her body lightly, first with just the tips of his fingers, pulling back from time to time leaving her to wonder where he would contact her body next.  Then, with his lips.  He had only one way with which he was intimately familiar, to make her leave this hotel thinking about him and wanting to see him again.  A silent prayer than in her next quiet time, the memory of this moment might revisit her in the same way he knew that it would haunt him every day going forward.

That, he knew for sure, was the only real gift death gave... a security in the knowledge of what life meant, of the power of memories, and the healing power of companionship and touch.  He drank the water washing down her body, every minut twitch of his muscles pointed unerringly towards the only goal that mattered now, if he had any hope of seeing this night repeat itself.  He had to make certain she had no question in her mind how he felt and that every shower she ever took from this day forward might hold the promise of this memory & the longing to revisit it.

He was almost cruel in how he led her to the edge, only to deny her, this wasn't an act of a man consumed with need... but an artisan crafting a well-conceived work of art.  He paid heed to the temperature of the water, it could get cool... but not cold or this would be ruined.  He was careful to not let her take control of the moment as she seemed to try and do on several occasions.  The way she grabbed hold of his hair and eventually the back of his head told him she was a woman who felt safer being in control - but safe wouldn't leave her with the unshakable recollection he wanted.

So, when her hand took hold the second time he reached up and grabbed it by the wrist.  He stopped what she wanted most of all and stood up, pressing her arm an back to the wall of the shower.  With his other hand, out of sight, he worked blind using her facial reactions as his guide.  Feeling her just out of the reach of his body, it was hard not to give over to his own growing urges but like a man obsessed he locked upon his goal.  As she writhed and vocalized her pleasure he spoke quiet and firm.

"Look at me." He ordered her.  It was not a request and to his great satisfaction, Tara's eyes did open.  "I want to see you."  He said, holding her gaze as his fingers worked more ardently to elicit his desired outcome.  

Only once the moment had passed did he close the small space between them completely allowing their bodies to reconnect and the warmth of lust to shield her from the cooling water pouring down on them.  With his eyes still open, he kissed her, trying to read her reactions and praying he'd left an impression she wouldn't easily forget.

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After the shower, she promised herself. Then she'd tell him. Then she'd delayed, wanting just a few minutes of sleep... and then they'd both dozed for a couple hours... she'd woken up two hours later with him pressing against in his sleep, and she'd woken him up with her tongue. She'd eventually called down as checkout time approached, first requesting a late checkout before begrudgingly paying for another night.

The day was spent alternately sleeping and making love... it was a phrase she hated, but other expressions just felt too crass. There was a sensitivity to each of them, and she found herself chasing after him with the energy of a teenager, the wisdom of an experienced lover, and the urgency of someone condemned to die.

In a way, she did feel condemned. Every hour, she thought about telling him who she really was. And every hour she delayed just a little more. She threw everything she had at him, but even great sex couldn't last indefinitely. By the afternoon, they were both spent... and Tara finally had to face reality. 

She dressed slowly, before lying back on the bed in her wrinkled green dress. Her voice was soft but focused as she looked up steadily at the ceiling.

"Kayce... you should know. About Isabella and me being together the other day..."

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He smiled at her.  "No."  He said decidedly.  "You don't have to keep trying to explain all that... I almost wish I hadn't told you I knew you'd been by my in-laws.  She's your brother's future wife - you don't have to justify why you're spending time with her.  I understand, I really do."  

He touched her cheek and looked into her eyes.  "I know you're not like her, Tara."  He tapped his nose.  "I know trouble when I smell it, remember?  She's ... a little misguided, but I know you're not like her.  So, let's just forget about Isabella Luciano for the moment.  In fact, we never have to bring all that business up again.  So far as I'm concerned she's your sister in law and that's that."  

He leaned in and pecked her lips quickly, "Would you like me to take you home?"

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Tara's mouth clicked shut, even as her thoughts raged like a storm in her head. One half of her demanded that she speak the truth about her identity. The other was trying to persuade herself that he'd just said he didn't want to know any more. 

"No... I'll find my own way back. You're sure you don't want to know more? Not just about Isabella-Luciano, but about my links with her... and all that?"

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An ugly man stumbles through the streets. He is talking to himself in a dumb tone. I think hes high. No clue what it is hes on, but hes high.

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Kacey tilted his head to the side.  Lines creased his forehead.  He looked at her with a cross between concern and deep thought.  She didn't want him to take her to her home.  Had this just been a one night stand for her?  Had he read her wrong?  Was all this an attempt to tell him something that would make him write her off so she could walk away without any shame or guilt?  They didn't know each other, not really.  Wasn't it foolish to refuse her confession, whatever it was?  Wasn't the better part of wisdom to let her say whatever was on her mind even if it might send him running for the hills?  

If she said something he couldn't live with, there would be no sending flowers or sandwiches to her unexpectedly, as he'd laid awake planning in the early morning hours while he watched her sleeping peacefully before the sun had risen.  He thought about what his week was going to be like, knowing that Friday held no more promise of joy than any other Friday night before it for these many long years.  What did he have ahead of him without this... whatever THIS was?  He looked down at the sheets, the smell of her and him mixing in the air all around them and he imagined the loneliness of his bedroom at home and he dreaded it.

The lines on his brow began to slowly disappear as his nether regions whispered a thousand reasons why Tara's confessions were nothing but a method of self-sabotage.  He'd sensed from the beginning she had a troubled past and now, knowing her brother was marrying a mobster, that only confirmed it.  What sort of man married a 'retired' Mafia Don?  The sort who had a troubled past, a past he shared with his lovely sister... this kind-hearted and scarred fawn who might need the sort of man who was willing to take a risk.  The kind who might desperately desire someone to tell her that whatever secret pains she carried in her heart, it wouldn't change a damn thing for him.

Kacey had tried his whole life to do the right thing.  He wanted to be better than the men he grew up around, better than his father had been.  He wanted to have the courage to be the sort of hero people needed.  And he believed that doing good, being better, wasn't easy.  It required taking chances, sacrifice, and more often than not it required no small amount of pain.  All of which, he told himself, he was strong enough to bear... he'd endured this long hoping that one day it would all mean something.  Maybe... just maybe... Tara was that something? 

"We don't... know each other.  Maybe you might feel like you have to tell me all the worst parts of your life right now; maybe it would make you feel better or make sure I'm properly warned off."  He looked down at the bed,  "Believe me, I want to tell you everything about my life too.  And there are some things that I'm not too proud of either.  It's only natural... you know, that we would feel like we need to say all that stuff after what we shared last night."  

He looked up to meet her eyes and despite what he was feeling, the sight of her pulled the barest hint of a smile onto his lips, "I do want to hear everything about your life, the good and the bad, just not today.  I want yesterday and this morning to stand on their own just as they have been... perfect."

He reached out and brushed a stray hair on her face, back behind her ear.  "You'd be doing me a big favor, you know?  I need a win, Tara.  Just one good memory to outweigh a lot of lonely ones."  He lowered his voice to a whisper and looked down at the bed again, "If you don't want to see me again, you don't need to chase me off with the worst of whatever you've been mixed up in.  I promise I won't think less of you... in truth I can understand your hesitation in getting mixed up in my life."  

He nodded to himself, seeming to accept the reality that maybe he wouldn't see her again after giving her permission to not feel guilty about walking away. "Keep your secrets.  Whatever you're afraid of isn't going anywhere and neither am I.  If you do want to see me again, I know that you know where to find me.  And if you don't... well, then we both walked away from this with what I hope we both wanted.  No regrets.  Alright?"

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