Grant shook his head slightly and put a fingertip to his lips. “Shhh!” he whispered, so soft she barely heard. Then looking to the door, “Sorry, but it’s occupied! Please try down the hall, sir!”
“I don’t need the privy! I need you!” Frost barked back. “We’ve got the target located. I need you ready to roll in five, soldier!”
A scowl of disappointment crossed the AnthroSplice’s face. He looked as if he wanted to shoot through the door, but he was here for a reason. And it wasn’t to fuck rich socialites in the john.
He sighed in resignation. “Be right out!” He then waited patiently, listening with his keen canine hearing until he was sure Frost was gone. Gently, he removed his hand from her supple lips.
“A rain check, my dear,” he whispered, giving her a wink. “But … we will finish this … and just so you’ll wonder ‘til then …”
He took her hand and guided it into his half-open fly. Her hand encircled him, desire and need in her eyes, as they closed dreamily. A slight smile of triumph flitted across his rogueish face.
Yes, my dear. You won’t forget that.
Chapter 13
Doctor Abraham Samuels was in a better mood than usual that morning as he rode the elevator to Jocko’s floor. Earlier, upon logging into the hospital’s data portal on his PDC, he’d noticed that Special Inspector Burlington hadn’t swiped in at the security desk. The good doctor took this news with no small amount of personal pleasure. Maybe Burlington had pressing business elsewhere. Samuels smiled. Whatever it might be, he hoped it was enough to keep the man occupied all day. Truth be told, it wouldn’t hurt Samuel’s feelings one damned bit if he went a day or two without seeing the arrogant, pompous ZiP.
He had, however, noticed that Burlington’s Ex Oh, the redheaded Trooper Jones, was now at the hospital. She, on the other hand, was a different story. While still definitely all cop, she seemed a bit more practical than her superior, and she had a body that was definitely easy on the eyes. That ass and those legs under that skin-tight spandex were to die for.
And those green eyes...
He’d even been presumptuous enough to buy an extra coffee in the cafeteria before heading up to check on DeWitt. After all, who knew? Maybe if they had a chance to develop a personal rapport, she might just find the young doctor interesting enough in his own right. Maybe even want to have a drink or something sometimes. He was reasonably certain that the pressures of working with such an ambitious and egotistical jerk would have to warrant some type of release.
He wondered what she would look like in a dress. A cute little sundress number maybe, with bare shoulders and a short hemline to accentuate those long legs, maybe something yellow to highlight that red hair. She wore it all-natural, too, no streaks or highlights. There were no unnatural hues that made her look like a cartoon character from some risqué Japanese animated series or a contraband pleasure android. He found that kind of basic simplicity appealing in a world where everything was so artificial. Artificial food. Artificial people. Artificial sex. Artificial love. There was so little that was real in this world anymore.
He knew he was beginning to sound like his grandparents. Most of his life they’d just seemed like grumpy old farts who found fault in everything, whether it be the weather or his most recent girlfriend. No matter the subject or issue, you could count on them to find the negative.
As an idealistic young man, fresh out of medical school, he’d always hated that about them. Why did the glass always have to be half-empty? Why did it all have to be gloom and doom? They could cloud up your day if you let them. Secretly, he’d been elated when they’d moved back to Israel to retire. Who needed all that bad juju?
Yet, as he’d grown older, he felt that same pessimism slowly creeping into his bones like cancer, eating away at the sunshine and rainbows of his innocent naivete. He began to understand why the older generations always grew bitter and jaded.
The world sucked, and it was only getting worse.
Each shift, he dealt with it. Poverty. Violent crime. Bureaucratic red tape. Corporate mismanagement and greed. He hated to admit it, but they’d been right all along. The negatives far outweighed the positives.
What a breath of fresh air he’d found Trooper Jones to be. Pretty, straightforward and a fair amount of chutzpah, he loved the way she stood up to Burlington, refusing to let him run over her. She was the kind of woman a meek, mild-mannered data-head like him wasn’t even comfortable dreaming about. Hell, she was liable to kick his ass even in his fantasies, but he couldn’t help himself. He was smitten.
Sure, she wasn’t Jewish, but nobody cared about that kind of stuff anymore. Racial considerations and prejudices had, for the most part, been left behind after the dark days of the twentieth century. Religion was about as obsolete as the internal combustion engine. Sure, some like his grandparents still clung desperately to the old ways, but they were dying out at an impossibly fast rate. Besides, he might somehow convince her to convert.
As the elevator door opened, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Who was he kidding? It was far more likely he’d become an Irish Catholic to satisfy her.
His good cheer and early morning ponderings of unattainable love would dry up and disappear like spit on a hot August sidewalk when he saw the unconscious guard leaned against the wall. Fear suddenly encased him in a cold, clammy grip, like a sweaty fever, the coffee falling from his hands to the floor in a black splatter. He rushed over to check the man’s pulse. It was weak, but it was there, along with the nasty little
