He
knows he shouldn’t think about her that way but he can’t help it. Anyway he doesn’t
ever hurt her and assures himself that what he does is all right. Even so, when
images of her caress his mind like now, he’s surprised he feels no guilt. Convenient
for him, otherwise he might have to stop.
The
detective is happy no one knows. If he isn’t careful-- should anyone
find out-- he’d make the news and his life will be over. But that worry is short-lived
and he’s back to his pursuit.
The
element of surprise arouses him, promises more because sometimes she disappears
right after he calls to tell her he’s on his way. Why? She hardly ever refuses,
well, not convincingly anyway. He knows she likes what he does.
He’s
certain Pam does the same sex things with the bums she meets at the clubs, but he’s
sure they can’t please her like he does. He asks her that. She doesn’t answer, just
twists her features into an expression that says, “You know the answer, asshole.”
Oh how he hates that look, the brow furrow
and the one side of her face scrunched up that accentuates her deep dimple. He adores
that dimple but not the look of displeasure. That almost turns him off.
Almost.
Shades of
+Joseph Mendez
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