Whatever the case was, I soon found myself deep in subspace, and a wonderful orgasm was boiling up from my loins. I was experiencing so much pleasure...I decided to hold off on coming. Pre-cum oozed from the purple engorged head of my cock. I was so fixated on my fantasy that I failed to hear anything. Or maybe she was just so quiet.Suddenly I heard a high-pitched voice: "What the fu- Oh my gawd!" I whirled around and there was Denise standing behind me to my right. She had her hand over. I was a little put out at first because I wanted to do my morning routine with plenty of time to make my first stop of the day so I asked her what she wanted and I told her that I was heading out so that she needed do decide if she needed to call someone or not. That’s when she said, “Mister, you’re not the police are you.” Suddenly I knew what was happening. She was a prostitute on the prowl. I hadn’t caught on to that fact because of the time of day. I took a closer look at her and decided. Jacob lay back on the bed, pulling her down next to him so her back was against his chest. She curled against him, his hands roaming absently over her skin. She closed her eyes, thinking that she’d get up to leave in just a minute. The frantic buzzing of her phone against the wooden floor woke her up sometime later. She had an army of missed calls and text messages from Hannah. She slid out of bed, still naked, and retrieved her phone from the pocket of her jeans, which were on the floor where. Sometimes my mind churned at night, especially when I was in the middle of a case. Most especially when I was lost in the middle of a case.Something wasn’t right. Well, a lot of things weren’t right anent: Dixie Walker. Like where the fuck was he? Like was he still intent on killing me? Like were the Meriwethers still funding him?But something else had been niggling away at my subconscious. Two somethings. Two conversational tidbits, seeming unrelated. Although they shared a common subject.