Page 57 of SEAL the Deal

Jenny stepped inside, pushed her dress down her hips and let it slide to the floor. She stepped out of it and walked slowly along the hall in just her panties and heels.

Rick stood in the doorway his eyes glued to her lithe body.

She glanced back at him. “You going to stand there gawking or come in?”

“Huh, yeah.” He closed the door, shrugged off his jacket and followed her into the bedroom.

She lay back on the bed as he shed his clothes. His eyes never left hers as she watched him intently.

When he was completely naked she smiled. “God you’re a hunk of a man.” She beckoned with her finger.

He started at her feet. Softly kissing her legs, thighs, stomach and breasts, he slowly made his way up the bed. Finally, when their mouths touched he felt her hand grasp his manhood. She pushed aside her underwear and slowly guided him in as they kissed.

Epilogue

Vicente Barbosa sat on the plush mattress he’d had smuggled into his prison cell and studied the cards in his hand. The poker game had become something of a tradition. Every Friday three of the most influential men in the maximum-security facility joined him for a game.

On his immediate left sat Enrique a Hispanic gangbanger and mass murderer from MS13. Next to him was a hulking African American with a shaved head; Trey an enforcer from Detroit. The brute was rumored to have murdered an entire family with his bare hands. The third man, arguably the most influential in their current environment was Jules Deveron, the prison’s head guard. At six-foot-five with the build of a professional wrestler he was a man who demanded and received the utmost respect from all but the stupidest of prisoners.

The guard pushed the last of his cigarettes into the center of the table and narrowed his eyes. “OK, Vicente. Show us your cards.”

Barbosa shrugged and tossed his hand on the table, a pair of aces.

“You shitting me?” exclaimed Enrique. “Two lousy aces. You got balls essé. Big brass balls.”

“Yeah, but balls or no balls that’s still a shitty hand.” Deveron tossed a straight flush on the table and grinned. “You can have the cigarettes, divvy them between yourselves.” He rose from the plastic stool. “I’ve got to get back to my reports.”

He made for the cell door where two of his guards were waiting. As he was about to leave he stopped and turned, reaching into his jacket. “Almost forgot. Mail for Mr. Barbosa.” He tossed a letter toward the former cartel kingpin. “Same time next week, gentlemen. Stay out of trouble.”

He disappeared and the guards gestured for Trey and Enrique to follow.

Barbosa waited until they were gone and his cell door locked before he opened the envelope.

The hand written letters were a coded report from his men in Mexico. They informed him of shipments, earnings, thefts and actions taken to remedy problems. He noted that profits were up; his second in command was doing well.

Among the reports was a letter from his wife. His son had made the state soccer team and his grades had improved.

The final item in the envelope was a single piece of paper with a photograph printed on it. The glossy shot was a wedding photo. A man and a woman stood in front of a priest with a dog by their side.

He sat staring at the picture, channeling hatred at the people and animal that had put him in this shit hole far from his family and his beloved Mexico.

Scrunching the paper into a ball he tossed it at the wall. “I’m going to destroy you, Michael Saunders. I’m going to wait till you have a family of your own and then you’re going to watch them die.”

---