Len Levinson - Without Mercy

He opened the door. “Good morning,” he said cheerily.

She peeked into the room. “Anybody else here?”

“Just me and my roaches.”

She stepped into the room, wearing a dress, heels, and coat. “What a mess.”

“I told you.” He returned to the table and continued eating his breakfast. “If you want a cup of coffee you know where everything is.”

“You’re such a good host,” she said, taking a cigarette out of her purse and lighting it. Removing her coat and dropping it over a chair, she sat at the table with Rackman, who was finishing his omelet.

He looked at her, admiring the elegant way she held her cigarette, and the regal movements of her head. Her dress, which was a color somewhere between purple and green, fastened around her throat and draped over the swell of her breasts.

“What are you doing over here?” he asked.

“I had dinner with a girlfriend of mine at Charlie’s.”

“Was it good?”

“Yes. Then I thought I’d come over and see you, because I haven’t seen you for a while and I was getting horny.”

“Oh.”

“Are you horny?”

“Not at the moment, but if you can wait until I finish my coffee, I’m sure I’ll get horny. How have you been?”

“All right. You?”

“I’m working like a dog.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am.”

She looked around the room, and her long eyelashes enchanted him. “You don’t seem to be working so hard now.”

“I just got up.”

“You could have called me.”

“You were having dinner with a girl friend of yours.”

“I’m home a lot and you don’t call.”

“I told you that I’m working a lot. You’ve heard of the Slasher, haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Well that’s a Midtown North case and we’re trying to get the son of a bitch.”

She looked at him and pointed her long forefinger. “I know you’re seeing somebody else.”

“I am not seeing somebody else.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“So don’t believe me.” He took a Lucky from his pack on the table and lit it up, his first one of the day, and it was delicious.

“Somebody asked me to marry him,” Francie said, blowing a column of smoke at the ceiling.

“Who?”

“You don’t know him. Do you think I should marry him?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” she said.

“None of us are.”

“I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

She looked at him angrily. “Don’t you even care!”

“About what?”

“If I married somebody else?”

Rackman thought for a few moments. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you care?”

“I care, but it’s your life, Francie. I don’t know what’s right for you. I don’t even know what’s right for me. What does he do?”

“He’s a playwright.”

“Had any hits?”

“He had a big hit about ten years ago. Now he teaches at Hunter College, and gives lectures at different places. He makes around forty thousand dollars a year.”

“Marry him,” Rackman said.

“I don’t know whether I should or not.” She puffed her cigarette nervously.

“What does your shrink say?”

“He says it’s my decision to make.”

“Why don’t you get rid of that fucking asshole?”

“He’s not a fucking asshole.”

“He doesn’t sound like he’s much of a help.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“You’d have forty more dollars a week to spend.”

“Fifty. He’s gone up.”

“What a rip-off artist.”

“He’s not a rip-off artist.”

“What’s your prospective bridegroom’s name?”

“Donald.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I think so.”

“If you think so, what are you doing here?”

She looked perturbed. “Because I love you too.”

He smiled. “Oh come on. You don’t love me.”

“Yes I do,” she insisted.

“How could anybody possibly love me? I’m so nasty.”

“That’s true, but you’re a sexy man. At least I think so.”

“You’re about the only one.”

“Who else thinks you’re sexy?” she asked.

“How should I know?”

“Other girls don’t tell you?”

“What other girls?”

“The other girls you’re with when you’re not with me.”

“I’m not with any other girls when I’m not with you. I’m either at work or I’m here alone sleeping.”

She pouted. “I don’t believe you.”

“How can you love me when you think I’m a liar?”

“Sometimes I wonder myself.”

“But it’s all right for you to sleep with other men,” he said, leaning toward her.

“What do you mean?”

“Donald and God knows who else?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why can’t I have other boyfriends? We’re not married.”

“Then why can’t I have other girlfriends?”

She pointed her finger at him. “I knew you had other girlfriends.”

“I don’t, but you have no right to be jealous.”

“I do too.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand this conversation.”

She placed her hand on his. “Let’s get married, Danny.”

“I thought you were going to marry Donald.”

“I won’t marry him if you marry me.”

“I thought women didn’t want to get married anymore.”

“We don’t.”

“Then why do you want to marry me?”

“Because I want to, but we can live together if you like. I just don’t want to be alone anymore, Danny. I’m tired of going on dates. I want to have just one man.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

“You will?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “You really will?”

“I told you I will. I’m getting tired of going out on dates too.”

She frowned. “Who are you going out on dates with?”

“I’m not going out on dates with anybody.”

“Then why did you say you were?”

“It’s just a way of saying that I’m getting tired of screwing around.”

“Who are you screwing around with?”

“Nobody. I’m talking about the concept of being single.”

“Oh.”

He looked at his watch. “You know, I really ought to go to work.”

“But Danny,” she protested, “I hardly ever see you. Just a few more minutes.”

“Okay.”

“I thought we were going to go to bed together,” she said unhappily. “We haven’t been to bed together for weeks.”

“Okay, let’s go now.” He stood up.

She looked at him. “Just like that?”

“What am I supposed to do—stand on my head?”

“You could be a little romantic.”

“I’ll be romantic in the bedroom.”

She got up and they went into the bedroom. He took off his bathrobe and hung it over the bedpost, while she unbuttoned her dress. She pulled it over her head and then bent over and rolled down her pantyhose. He looked at her, so lithe and graceful, such a lovely body, so utterly desirable. Moving toward her, he clasped her tightly against him, kissing her neck. He felt her hands on his back as she strained against him. Their lips fastened together and tongues intertwined. He was getting very excited. Picking her up, he laid her down on the bed, pulling down her underpants, which was all she was wearing now. He touched his hand to her fluff, and she sucked in air through her teeth, wrapping her fingers around his dong, squeezing it. They kissed again and he caressed her groove, making it hot and moist. His blood was boiling and his ears pounded with lust. He laid on top of her, got into position, and slid it in.