She moved closer.
I could smell her perfume.
"After the incident, I went to the Middle East. I thought Jonah might have known something. I figured he might at least know who else was in town and what they were doing."
"You trust Jonah?"
"He's never given me any reason not to.
"She was at the bar when I walked in. Yes, she caught my eye. A lot of girls catch my eye. I didn't think it was a big deal."
"You fucked her."
"What?"
"You fucked her."
"So?"
"So. So tell me about it."
I frowned.
"What do you mean, 'Tell you about it?'"
"Details."
I looked at the cameras.
"No."
"You fucking..." She got up and disappeared through the door. A couple of minutes later there was a click and a whirr and the cameras shut down.
I caught a flash of her thigh as she sat down.
"Did they really just kill the cameras?"
"Yes."
"And the sound?"
"Yes."
"You really want details?"
She looked right through me.
"Yes."
"Like what?"
"Like anything that struck you as unusual."
"Not particularly."
She rubbed her temples.
She stood up, walked around the table. She was standing behind me and I could feel her breath on my neck. She reached around and grabbed my balls. Hard. Her hands were strong.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
She squeezed harder.
"When you fucked her did anything unusual happen? And I'm not talking about in the cab, or when you first got back to the room.
She didn't say anything, but kept up the pressure on my balls. Her face was slightly flushed and her breasts pressed into my back. She started to twist, then suddenly she let go.
She stood back for a minute then threw a couple sheets of glossy paper in front of me. They looked like they’d been clipped from a magazine:
-27-
** ******, ** *** Middle East. Long day, feeling too heavy to move. The job went sideways. Such a goddamned mess. Had to get to *****. He always knows who's in town and why. Not there. Makes sense in retrospect.
Then she got me. Had noticed her when I hit the bar. Dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes, head to toe black except for a red scarf. Her hair fell over one side of her face, it made her seem shy. I ordered a drink. Wanted something strong, something that burned. The girl was at the bar. When she put her glass down I noticed that her hands were shaking. There's a black space there. We spoke, but I can't catch/hold/remember the words.
*
Later, in a cab. My hand working its way up her leg. The cabbie watching in the rearview. I dig out a fifty and tell him to keep his eyes on the road. My hand on her thigh, tearing through fishnets, fingers inside her, teasing her clit. Her breath hot on my neck, her tongue in my mouth. Hands moving, fingers moving, her leg shaking.
At the hotel. She threw a wad of bills at the driver. Through the lobby and into the elevator. More hands, clawing, scratching, digging, her hair a mess.
In the room. She grins and shows her teeth. She grabs my balls and pulls me close. I reach for her thigh but she slaps my hand away. She kicks off her boots and pulls off her dress. She falls onto the bed. I look at her from head to toe. I see scars on her arms and legs, white and angry. He breasts are small but pert, w/large nipples.
I kneel over her and run my tongue from her ankles to the inner edge of her thigh, then from her stomach to the bottom of her chin. I love the taste and smell of her skin, lightly perfumed, slick with sweat.
I brush the hair from her face and look into her eyes. She has me. I tease her nipples, pinching and biting, rolling them between my tongue and teeth. She sighs and slides my hand back towards her pussy. She kicks and squirms and I wonder about the scars. When she's about to come she grabs my cock hard and rolls me over. She climbs on top, rests her hands against my shoulders and starts to shake and twist. It's almost like I'm not here. I grab her breast hard. She snarls at me and says to grab harder. She jumps off before I can come. My cock is twitching and spasming. She gives me a look and says, no, not yet. She rolls over, her hand wrapped around my cock.
-28-
Later, half asleep and the room is cold. It’s not the room. She is cold. Like a corpse. Does her skin have a blue tinge or is it the light in here? I touch her shoulder. I shake her and she tosses and turns and mumbles. She grabs my arm and holds it tight against her chest. She's so cold and holding so tight that my arm starts to go numb. She reaches for my cock and starts stroking the shaft and I can barely feel her hand. She moves closer and rubs the glans on the outside of her labia. I can feel her getting warmer. The heat spreading through the body. She keeps my arm pinned to her chest. Her scars are pink. Her breathing picks up. My cock and the tops of her thighs are soaked. She arches her back and slips my cock all the way inside. We move against each other slowly. I go as deep as I can. With each thrust she gets warmer, more substantial.
"What the fuck? I didn’t write this."
She moved away then turned and gave me a quick jab in the balls.
I doubled over, panting.
"Bastard. You fucking miserable bastard."
Her eyes narrowed.
She pulled a small black book out of the pocket of her jacket.
"It wasn't just Boston, was it?"
She slid the book across the table.
"I don't..."
"Read."
