“I’m not much of a wine drinker,” Jack said. “Not much of a drinker at all, really.”
“Neither am I. For whatever reason, I lost my taste for it a couple years ago.” June set the bottle down that she had selected. It had been one of her favorites in the past. She watched as he put the rocky road back in the freezer, lining up both labels so they faced directly to the front.
“Rocky road, huh?” she said, playfully.
“That’s what does it for me.”
“Oh, I get it now. A presidential candidate, rocky road. Very clever,” June said. She reached out and played with a button on his shirt. The crisp white shirt and necktie he wore at dinner were gone, replaced with a simple blue pullover and jeans. “But are you clever enough to know what to do with me next?”
Their mouths met again, exchanging ice cream flavors.
“Would you like to spend the night?” she asked quietly.
“You mean go back to your room?”
“No, here. I’m commandeering this room for the night.” She kissed him again. “Make up your mind,” she said when their lips parted.
“But which is your room?”
“Both.” She turned off the light over the fridge and gave him their longest kiss yet. “I’m getting horny, and you need to do something about that,” she whispered. “And no fair calling Kevin for advice.”
She pecked him on the cheek before breaking free from his arms. She started walking toward the bedroom, leading him by the hand. With her other hand, she pulled her blouse over her head and dropped it to the floor.
Jack grinned, but didn’t move a muscle.
“What’s this?” June said. “A leading presidential candidate, possibly soon one of the most influential people in world politics, and now you can’t make the simple little decision of spending the night with a moderately attractive and highly neurotic woman?” She finished undressing and killed the lights. Force of habit.
The entire suite instantly plunged into darkness. At that moment, June realized she didn’t mind if he saw her, even with the lights on. Her body had become a sensitive subject in recent years. Not because of her figure, but the scars that raged across her back in several directions. Most were smooth and pale, but a couple were thick and dense. In the dark of the moment, though, none of that mattered.
She turned to face him again. “Are you staying? Or are you sleeping in the hallway with the mice and roaches?”
“You’ve got my vote.” As he pulled his shirt off, June worked on his belt and fly. She could see him pull off his socks. With her head on the pillow, she watched as he folded his clothes neatly and set them on the dresser, including the socks. As soon as he was done with that, she scooted over in bed to let him in under the blankets. She reached down and caressed him.
“Neurologic exam complete. All autonomic responses intact,” she whispered. He was ready for her, and she knew she was ready too. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see his mouth, his wonderful wet mouth.
She rolled over on top of him, rubbed him with her hip, and leaned down for a smothering kiss. When she let him have a breath, she had a question for him.
“So, this is a really shitty time to ask about this, but did you come prepared?”
“In the bathroom…”
“Well, go get one if you want anything more.”
He jumped out, ran to the bathroom, and was back in bed so fast his feet didn’t even get cold.
Chapter 23
THE CORRIDOR WAS dimly lit, warm. Leopold paced the carpet while Jerome stood by the door to Melendez’s suite. He stared ahead, hands folded in front of him, not speaking. Glancing at Leopold as he strode back and forth, eyes flicking left to right. The only sound was the low hum of the air conditioning.
“Something bothering you,” Jerome said. It didn’t sound like a question.
Leopold stopped pacing. “Something about this job stinks.”
“That’s just the boredom talking.”
“I’m not a fan of security work, you know that.” He added, “No offense.”
“It’s considerably more of an effort when the client insists on being a stubborn ass,” Jerome said. “No offense.”
“Jack only just got here. Give him time.”
Jerome sighed. “So what’s the issue?”
“It’s the odds. Even the best teams slip up. It’s unavoidable. No way to plan for every eventuality; threats always get through once in a while. Hell, a good season would be three or four near misses. On a good run.”
“Yeah. But it’s our job to make sure any breach doesn’t lead to a kill. We can’t keep Mr. Melendez in a bulletproof cage the whole time.”