Trace (Trace 1) by Warren Murphy

Author:Warren Murphy [Murphy, Warren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: E-Reads, Ltd.
Published: 2010-07-01T06:00:00+00:00

They were perfectly matched, Trace thought. Each of them brought their glasses into the bedroom and put them on the end tables. They both made sure they had cigarettes and ashtrays, and then occasionally, they would take a break during lovemaking to sip from their drinks or smoke a cigarette.

She had her hands around Trace’s naked waist.

“What’s that sticky stuff?” she said.

“Don’t be disgusting,” Trace said. “That’s a by-product of successful sex.”

“I mean that goo on your back.”

“Oh. That’s from a mustard plaster.” He reached back and moved her hand from the sticky area where he had adhesive-taped his recording machine.

She giggled. “Shouldn’t it have been a mayonnaise plaster?”

Later, they lay side by side in the bed, smoking. Trace looked at his jacket hanging from the top of the door and could almost sense the tape recorder running silently inside his pocket.

“Trace, how old are you?” Jeannie asked.

“Going to be forty, thank God.”

“Why thank God?” she asked. “What’s so good about forty?”

“No more getting erections on buses,” Trace said. “It almost makes being forty worthwhile. How old are you?”

“Thirty-two,” she said. She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray on his naked belly, slung an arm across his throat, and fell asleep in seconds.

It was after midnight when Trace extricated himself from her grip, took a shower, and then dressed quietly in the darkened apartment.

When he was ready to leave, he knelt on the edge of the bed and kissed the beautiful redhead lightly on the forehead.

“Good night, lady lawyer,” he said softly.

She opened her large eyes. In the dark room, glints of moonlight reflected from them. “You’re leaving?” she said.

“It’s either that or come back to bed with my suit on, and I hate getting wrinkled.”

“Be quiet going out,” she said. “You’ll ruin my reputation if anybody sees you.”

“I was planning on whistling the March from Aïda down your halls.”

“Hold it till next time. We’ll do it together.”

She reached her arms up for him and brought him down and this time he kissed her a long kiss before walking quickly to the door of the bedroom. She stopped him by calling his name.

“Trace?”

“Yes.”

“You believe in love at first sight?” she asked.

“Maybe a little bit,” he said. “Maybe now.”

“Me too,” she said. “I feel something good about you.”

“I know,” he said, and let himself out. In the hallway, he made sure the door to her apartment locked tightly behind him, and then he walked down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor.

He lit a cigarette outside the building and looked up at the sky. It reminded him of the night sky in Las Vegas, not when looking from the Strip or Downtown: there was so much other light around that one could hardly see the sky. But from the outskirts of the town, where the city drifted away into just sand and open desert, where the roads were unmarked and unlit, the sky hung over the earth like a twinkling ceiling. It was the kind of night that

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.