Brian Freeman - Immoral

"You got a problem with what I do? If so, tell me now, okay? Don't waste my time."

"No, no," Cordy protested.

Lavender jabbed a finger at him. "The only people who humiliate themselves are the guys drooling in the audience every night I'm in control. They worship me. There's nothing wrong with that. You ask why I do it. Simple. For the m-o-n-e-y."

"Sorry," Cordy said.

"Don't be. Everyone asks. But you have to get over it baby, or we've got a short evening ahead."

The waiter brought a black lacquer tray, elegantly arrayed with gold-flecked rolls and slivers of fish, each tied to a sticky mound of rice with a black belt of seaweed. It turned out that Cordy liked sushi a lot particularly the way Lavender balanced each piece on the chopsticks and fed him bites. She herself ate in a big way, stuffing a roll into her mouth and grinning at him as she wolfed it down. He didn't recall ever being so turned on simply by eating dinner.

When they were done, Lavender ordered sake, and Cordy was surprised to find the liquor both hot and intoxicating, given how little fit into each glass and how smoothly it slid down his throat. They went through two miniature carafes before Cordy called for the check and paid it with a slight grimace of pain.

They left the restaurant and Cordy discovered to his delight that they were now holding hands. Her hips swished against his side as they strolled through the casino. Her fingers rubbed the inside of his palm, and he realized that even that small touch aroused him. The stares of other patrons continued to follow them.

"So how come you're not dating your hottie partner?" Lavender asked.

"Who, Serena? She's a friend, and that's that. Not my type."

Lavender poked him in the side. "Yeah, right. She may have a few years on you, but she's still a looker. You never made a play for her?"

Cordy shrugged. "She set me straight from day one. No hanky-panky. And everybody already knows her reputation. Guys ask her out, she cuts off their balls. She's got barbed wire around her."

"Why is that?" Lavender asked.

Cordy shook his head. "She hasn't told me." He let his hand slide down her back and come to rest on the curve of her buttocks. He rubbed her skin through one of the oval slits in her dress. "So you want to play for a while?"

"You mean gambling or fucking?"

"Isn't it the same thing? I get screwed either way."

Lavender threw her head back and laughed. "I like you, baby. Yeah, I like you."

"I like you, too. Listen, I got a five-hundred-dollar bill in my wallet. Let me play until I lose it or double it, and then we'll go to your place."

Lavender tugged on his chin and planted her luscious lips on his mouth, pressing her tongue inside. "Just make it quick."

Cordy steered her to the high-limit slots area. He normally played five-dollar blackjack at the tables at Sam's Town, but he didn't feel like sitting at a table and getting into the rhythm of the game. Besides, it felt like penny ante tonight. His luck was high, and he wanted to ride Lavender like a good luck charm. He chose a five-dollar Triple Play video poker machine that took up to five coins per hand, which meant the maximum bet on each pull was seventy-five dollars. Win or lose, it would be quick, and then they could get to the real business of the evening.

Over the next ten minutes, he shot ahead three hundred dollars, before sinking back after a quick series of losing hands. Then he hit a straight on two out of three hands and was well ahead again, although he hadn't quite doubled his money. He felt the usual fever overtaking him, and the only thing that kept him from losing himself in the game was the sensation of Lavender's fingers creeping closer to his crotch. Between the blips of the machine and the aching of his erection, his mind was flying.

He barely heard Lavender when she asked, "So did you and the hottie figure out what happened to Christi?"

"Damn!" He had a pair of aces, but he couldn't pull a third ace on the draw. "What did you say?"

"Christi. The girl who got killed. Did you find out who did it?"

Cordy watched another seventy-five bucks come and go on the next series of hands. "Huh? Oh, not yet Serena's in Minnesota now."

"Minnesota?"

Cordy nodded. "Yeah, the girl, Christi, came from some town up north in Minnesota. Looks like someone from home paid her a visit"

Cordy bet the max again and held his breath. He pumped his fist when he saw four-fifths of a spade flush flip up on the original deal. "Come on, mama, give me a spade."

Lavender wasn't watching the screen. She let one finger slip between his legs, where she traced the swelling there. "Is that from me or the game?"

Cordy didn't answer. He carefully held four cards, then punched the draw button and held his breath. "Fuck!"

Lavender sighed and removed her hand. She began studying her painted nails. "I see why I don't gamble."

"Huh?" Cordy said idly.

"Nothing. I'm surprised whoever killed Christi was from out of town. I would have thought it was that creepy boyfriend of hers."

"Yes!" Cordy shrieked as the machine dealt him three kings. "Come on, four of a kind, four of a kind!"

He fluttered his fingers over the button, then pushed it with a silent prayer. The remaining cards popped up: three, ace, seven, nine, queen, king.

"Yes!" Cordy screamed, watching the fourth king fill out the third hand. " Yes! " He grabbed Lavender, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and planted a long, extended kiss on her lips, to which she responded with enthusiasm. When he disentangled himself and looked back, he saw he had doubled his money. More than five hundred bucks!

Cordy cashed out, relishing the loud clanking of five-dollar coins banging into the tray. He filled two plastic buckets with the coins and stacked them on top of each other as he peered around for the nearest change booth. With the buckets under one arm and Lavender hanging on his other side, he strutted through the casino as if he were on top of the world. At the booth, he handed the buckets to the attendant and watched her pile them into the counting machine, then licked his lips as the numbers shot over a thousand dollars.

It was only then that his brain caught up with the whirl of thoughts in his head. Cordy felt his blood turn to ice, and he swung around on Lavender, his face tense and his fantasies of sex and money leeching away.

"Boyfriend?"

Stride and Serena sat in the dark in his truck, underneath a broken streetlight, parked opposite Kevin and Sally's university apartment building. The truck windows were open, letting the cool evening air blow through with a few lingering raindrops. They had staked out the building for an hour. He knew they could have waited until morning to talk to them, but he wanted the element of surprise, before Kevin and Sally had time to rehearse their reactions.

It also gave him a reason not to go home, which was the last place he wanted to be. That was the ugly truth. He was intensely attracted to Serena, and he wanted to be with her. Not with Andrea. Not with his own wife.

She was a silhouette seated next to him, but he knew that she could feel him studying her. Broadcasting his feelings. Shouting them silently.

"Tell me about Phoenix," he said. "About your past"

She shook her head. "I don't talk about that"

"I know. But tell me anyway."

"Why do you care about my past?" Serena asked. "You don't know me."

"That's why. I want to know you."

Serena was silent. He heard her breathing, which was fast and nervous.

"What is it you really want Jonny?" she asked. "To sleep with me?"

Stride didn't know what to say. "How do I answer that?" he said finally. "If I say no, you know I'm lying. If I say yes, then I'm another shallow cop looking for an affair."