Chapter Eighteen #2
After removing their shoes so as not to leave any impressions within the carpet, the pair made their way to the living room in their socks, treading with caution as not to disturb any discarded papers that lined the floor.
The house was in what some might call a state of disarray, with empty food containers perched on every surface one could comfortably perch a food container on.
Coffee-stained mugs littered the television stand, with dirty glasses to match on top of music speakers to the left of the television set.
The walls were a smoker yellow, and it reminded Lee to never let Morgan indulge in cigarettes within their apartment.
“Given the state of this house, we might need to be a little tactical as to where we place his driver’s license,” Lee deduced aloud, retrieving the Ziplock bag from her left pocket that housed the item in question.
“Agreed,” Morgan nodded, inclining her head towards the staircase. “Bedroom maybe?” she offered in suggestion, looking over at her girlfriend for confirmation.
Lee Holmes wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the situation.
Her partner, a natural born killer, was seeking direction from her, an avid podcast listener.
She supposed it was complementary, and yet at the same time, Lee couldn’t help but feel the pressure weigh upon her shoulders at the prospect of making just the slightest mistake.
“I suppose there’s no harm in checking,” she offered, in a practical and non-committal way, shrugging her shoulders for emphasis.
They made their way up the stairs without a word, turning 180 degrees at the top in order to face the upper hallway.
The bedroom's location was made clear before they had even taken a further step.
At the end of the hall was a stained futon placed upon the floor behind a partially open door.
Lee made the first step towards their destination, surprising herself as she pulled back the door to the bedroom and stepped inside.
The room had a foul odor, much like the room downstairs, only stronger. With the Ziplock bag still clutched between her fingers, she opened its contents and retrieved the driver’s license, wielding it with her gloved hand.
A rustic bedside table sat beside the futon, and it called out to Lee Holmes like a siren.
Before her hesitation could get the better of her, she placed the driver’s license on top of it, turning it slightly diagonally across the surface with her gloved hand, as if it had been placed there with disregard in order to match the rest of the haphazardly placed items within the house.
“Perfect,” Morgan commented, standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
"Although," she said, kicking the door frame with her boot as she pushed herself off it, positioning herself further into the room. "I thought we both agreed only minutes prior that you would at the very least try to be less sexy, but I have to say I’m rather attracted to you right now as you diligently ensure that you don’t contaminate the evidence that we already contaminated.”
Lee Holmes wasn’t exactly sure what spurred her on, it certainly wasn’t the ambiance, nor the lingering smell that haunted the room, but before she could second guess herself, she made her way over towards Morgan and placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. “How about now? Do you feel…contaminated?”
Her girlfriend’s eyes darkened in an already dimly lit room, illuminated only by the streetlights shining gently through the dirty windows.
A silence lingered between them, which was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.
If anything, it was enticing, only deepening breaths separating them both.
“Not even close,” Morgan replied, before wrapping her arms around Lee, bringing their bodies and mouths together in a haphazard collision of anticipation, as if the pressure had been building the second that Lee had chosen to help her.
Despite inviting Morgan’s advances, Lee knew that this was beyond a terrible idea, and yet terrible ideas were sometimes the most tempting. Lee Holmes would self-destruct just for the fun of it.
Wrapping her own arms around Morgan’s neck, she deepened the kiss, pressing her chest up against Morgan’s own as her girlfriend snaked a leg between her thighs, applying the perfect amount of pressure.
Moaning at the contact, Lee craned her head back for a fraction of a second before their lips met once again.
They both knew at that moment that they could only indulge for so long, and yet it was the fleeting opportunity that struck a chord in them both, urging them forward.
Lee broke the kiss once more, leaning forwards towards Morgan’s neck as she bit down hard enough to leave a mark, desiring for this moment to be etched into her body like a temporary tattoo.
Morgan Finch winced in pain, laughing ever so slightly afterwards as if it was practically a whispered secret, as she lapped up the bottom of Lee’s lips with her teeth and pulled.
As a gloved hand extended to reach into Lee’s hair, Lee batted it away with her own covered fingers, and the atmosphere that had built around them began to dissipate.
“If you leave my DNA in this house because some of my hair was left on the floor after you ran your hands through it, I will murder you myself.”
Morgan smiled into Lee’s newly swollen mouth so that she could feel it on her own.
She kissed her softly. “Firstly, I’m incredibly turned on right now, and secondly, I wouldn’t worry about that.
Detectives already scoped this place out two days ago and took samples.
The gloves are just a precaution. I’m going to leave an anonymous tip with my mom’s department tomorrow evening saying that I saw a man in his fifties entering the house in the morning.
If we’re lucky, they’ll check the place out and find the driver’s license. ”
Lee retracted her body for just a moment, with a gloved hand remaining on Morgan’s chest. “You know, I’m less turned on right now because you of all people should know that if they do find a driver’s license with remnants of Edward Beckett’s decaying corpse on it, they will turn this place upside down. ”
“Let them,” Morgan offered, her smile never faltering as she stroked Lee’s face.
“Besides, even if your hair was found, is your DNA even on record? This isn’t a TV show, babe.
Forensic teams don’t just show up and find pints of blood and semen everywhere and put it into a database that consists of the entire population’s blood and semen records and find a match in three seconds flat. ”
Lee Holmes sighed, removing her hand from Morgan’s chest. “Okay, you officially killed the mood with blood and semen.”
Her girlfriend laughed as the atmosphere in the room dissipated. “People have got to stop telling me that.”