The talent

Sticky sweat glued our bodies together. Satiated and basking in the incandescence, we moved slowly, unwilling to let go. I wanted to lie in his arms until Natasha’s threat and all that surrounded it disappeared. I could love Richard.

When finally the source of summer heat sank beneath the horizon, I opened a window and let in a cooling breeze. Our stomachs growled. Richard and I sat up from my bed. His hand on my back. My fingers on his cheek. His lips on my shoulder.

I donned panties and a t-shirt—still too hot to wear anything else. Richard slid into his slacks and hung his shirt to smooth the wrinkles. He took a call in the bathroom. When he exited wearing only his slacks, Richard said he checked in with Greg and Erik. The second shift bodyguards had arrived so they could get dinner. They would stand watch in the building lobby and the underground garage.

“Let me cook for you,” he said.

“I didn’t know you had the talent.”

“There is much you still don’t know about me.”

Truer words