Hard Beat

Visions of wrapping that hair around my hand and pulling her head back as I’m burying myself into her from behind fill my head instantly. It’s one thing to push a woman out of your head when you wonder what someone feels and tastes like, but it’s almost impossible to do that when you know those truths from personal experience. Images from that night flash through my mind: her tits bouncing with each thrust, her lips parted with want, that small strawberry birthmark on her hip bone.

When Pauly clears his throat, the sound pulls me from my thoughts to realize I’m blatantly staring at Beaux. I turn my head toward him to find his eyebrows raised and tongue tucked in his cheek. “Must be a pain in the ass to look at that sight all day.”

And fuck, I can deny it all I want, but Pauly will think I’m full of shit and assume more, so I might as well tell partial truths. “It’s brutal, I tell you,” I say as he groans when she positions herself perfectly in his line of sight across the table for a shot.

“I mean the lengths you go to for your job, Na

I choke on my sip of water. There’s no way I heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

“Na

“Dude, that’s so wrong.” I laugh.

“You can be all kinds of wrong because I bet with a body like that, she’d fix it with all of her kinds of right. Man, I’d tap that in a heartbeat.” He’s all talk, but I laugh with him anyway. “On our next supply run, you should probably stock up on lube… Wouldn’t want you getting calluses u

I just shake my head and laugh, grateful for the camaraderie but not willing to go into detail about how complicated the situation already is between the two of us. “Perfect in theory, my friend, but I don’t quite trust her yet.” And of course now I have his interest piqued. I should have kept my mouth shut.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t understand why she came here telling everyone she was freelance when she had the job. Why not just tell the truth?” I hope my quick thinking pays off and Pauly doesn’t sniff out my lie. What was I supposed to tell him? Oh I slept with her and she didn’t tell me she was my new partner, but she denies that she knew?

He nods his head as he mulls over my comment. “Yeah but you weren’t here yet. Wouldn’t you have been pissed if you showed up and she was buddy-buddy with everyone and used your name as a way to get in with everybody?”

“You’ve got a point there,” I murmur, hoping the resignation in my tone helps bring the topic to a close.

“But you’re still going to tell me you don’t like her, right?”

He knows me too well. When I glance over to the pool table, Beaux’s chalking up her cue stick, but her eyes are on me. Her ears must be burning over the discussion I’m having. She stares for a moment, brow furrowed, but the minute she realizes I’ve caught her staring, she looks away.

“It’s not that I don’t like her per se, but it’s the babysitting job Rafe’s assigned to me that I hate. Since when does he get to judge if I’m okay or not?”

“So long as you do your job, it shouldn’t matter.”

“Mmm-hmm.” I take another drink of my coffee. The scalding liquid burns a path down my throat at the same time my phone buzzes on the table in front of me. In a move so practiced it looks natural, I slide my cell off the table and rest it on my thigh just below the line of sight.

I comment to Pauly about something random, keep the conversation going so that he forgets the little vibration my phone gave, while at the same time it feels like an ember burning a hole in my goddamn leg. If there’s a lead sitting here and I react, he’ll know and want me to share it. We may be friends, but all’s fair in friendship and getting the first wind of a breaking story.

Shifting in my seat, I glance down and see Omid’s name on my screen. The ember becomes a damn wildfire at the sight of my most elusive but most trusted source’s name. It takes everything I have to keep myself from pumping my fist in the air, because I feared he had disappeared on me while I was gone.

Or even worse in this land where someone who is your ally one day may turn on you the next, pledging his loyalty and allegiance to the terrorist just to save his own life. The possibility that Omid has been found out and turned against me is never far from my mind.

The familiar adrenaline rush hits me like a first fix to an addict. The rest of the message consumes my thoughts as Pauly drones on about nothing of importance.

“Ah, shit,” I say as I make a show of looking at my watch, causing him to narrow his eyebrows. “I’m go

“Man, the jet lag fucks with your head.”

“Catch up with you in a bit,” I say as I start to walk away from the table.

“Not like I’m going anywhere.”

The minute I turn the corner and walk into the conveniently open elevator car to go up to my room, I enter the pass code to my phone. The message lights up my screen: Meet me at five. The usual place.

I let out the fist pump I’d held back downstairs as the doors open at my floor. I reply to Omid that I’ll be there, excitement ruling my thoughts and trepidation bringing me back down to Earth.

The last time I was out and about in everyday life here was the day of Stella’s death. The fractured images of the events of that day move through my mind like a kaleidoscope, never far from the surface, and of course my discomfort clears the path for me to worry that Omid is setting me up somehow. It’s a possibility with any meet, but I know his hatred runs deep for the terrorist faction that continually reasserts its stronghold in this country after losing his children to their brutality, so I try to shrug away the notion.

Stuck with the lie I told Pauly, I can’t return too quickly to the lobby, so I decide to head up to my room and reward myself with some sleep. Yet within seconds of closing my hotel room door and stripping off my shirt, a knock sounds at my back.

Shit. Pauly caught on somehow. Before I respond, though, he knocks again.

“Dude, hold your horses!” I walk over to the door. Just as my hand grips the handle, I hear Beaux’s muffled voice from the other side, and it surprises the shit out of me.

“Don’t even think you’re heading out without me.”

How in the hell did she know something came up?

When I turn the handle and let the door fall open, we stand motionless as she stares at me with her green, assessing eyes. The damn woman is observant, and I’m not sure if I love that or hate that yet, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out one way or another because she doesn’t seem to be a wilting flower in any sense of the word.

She enters when I take a step backward, and I like that the hard glint in her eyes goes hazy for just a moment when she takes notice of my bare chest. She stares a bit longer than is professional before dragging her eyes over my torso and back up to my face. Can’t say it doesn’t give me a small thrill of satisfaction to know she likes what she sees. Except there’s no way in hell I’m letting her touch me again.

And then of course she opens her mouth and ruins it all. “Going somewhere, Pulitzer?” She stands with her hands on her hips and her head angled to the side.

“You stalking me or something?” I prop my shoulder against the wall and shove my hands deep in the pockets of my cargos.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Last time I checked, I didn’t have to.” I could volley like this all day if she wants to.

“So where are you off to?” she asks again, this time with a bit more impatience.

I gesture toward my bed. “I’m about to take a nap, actually. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like, but for some reason I don’t take you for the type who likes to spoon.” I raise my eyebrows in a taunt as I wait for her rebuttal.