Page 11 of Steel Trap
“There’s a gym in the basement, and a pool.” Smith disappeared through the door. The sound of running water followed. Hatchet decided that staying in bed when all that naked goodness was getting wet was a dumb move. He hoped the shower wasbig enough for two.
* * * *
Hatchet sat at Smith’s polished granite kitchen counter and stuffed the last morsel of a soft tortilla into his mouth. Smith had fried chicken strips and vegetables then laid out dishes of salsa, sour cream and grated cheese. They’d constructed their own snacks and Hatchet had eaten every last scrap of his. He licked his fingers. “I’m impressed.”
Smith blushedand shifted on his stool.
“You sore?” Hatchet asked.
“Waterproof lube is a great invention,” Smith said. “But don’t think you’re getting near my ass again anytime soon.”
“What can I say? You’re irresistible.”
Smith fiddled with the cuff on his neatly pressed button-down. He didn’t have a hair out of place. “Well you’ll need to keep that lethal weapon of yours under control for a few daysat least.”
“I’ll keep my hands off if you tell me where all this,” he gestured around him, “comes from.”
“Mr. Trap likes to look after his employees.”
“That’s it? That’s all the explanation I’m gonna get?” Hatchet rubbed a hand over his head.
“What do you want me to say, Hatch? I deal with all kinds of weird shit for Trap and he’s got a lot more enemies than friends. This place isn’t muchbetter than a prison. I’m just as stuck as you guys are. He didn’t blackmail me into signing up, but if I want a career change I’ll have to relocate…to Siberia.”
The gates, the security guards, the private elevator all added up if Smith’s story was to be believed, but Hatchet didn’t come down in the last shower. Smith wasn’t making eye contact. At best, he was only telling half the truth. “Youand I are gonna talk some more about this, but for now we need to focus on your plans for this batshit crazy mission.”
“It’s a perfectly feasible approach to the problem.”
“It’s a crack-brained suicide attempt. I’ve called Rogue back from California. You and I don’t have a hope in hell of pulling this off without some support.”
“You had no right to do that.” Smith set his shoulders in a stubbornline.
“Think about it. If I shoot you at the exchange and manage to make it convincing, what am I gonna do—leave your body in the street for one of them to finish off?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Won’t it? All kinds of shit could go down that you’re not expecting and I’m not gonna risk your hide just because you want to play action man.”
“That’s not what—”
“This isn’t a fucking debate,” Hatchcut Smith off.
Smith rolled his eyes. “I was just going to say that I wanted to keep The Wyverns out of this one as much as possible. It could get nasty and I need your ugly butts intact for other jobs.”
“You didn’t think my butt was so bad when you were digging your fingers into it and screaming.” Hatchet leered.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Smith massaged his neck. “I suppose if you’ve alreadycalled Rogue I don’t have much choice. But I’m the contact and I still have to be the one that plays buyer. And the schedule can’t change. The meet is tomorrow night. It has to happen then—it’s taken great effort to set this thing up with Camacho. He’s not an easy man to deal with.”
“Rogue should be back by morning. Shelton and the others are working up a plan. Probably best you don’t know thedetails.”
“But I should…”
“No. You need plausible deniability if this turns into a shit storm. We’ll find a way to get you off the street once you’ve ‘died’. Then you need to stay out of sight until the rest of the plan goes down. Understand?” For a moment Hatchet thought Smith might argue but he clamped his pretty lips shut. “Good. I like you obedient.”
“You…get out of here, Hatchet. Sheltoncan send me any information I need. I’ll see you at the meeting point tomorrow night.”
Hatchet stood. He grabbed his leather jacket then shrugged it on. “When this is done, if we’re all still breathing, you and I are gonna spend some quality time together. I’m gonna melt your bones. You’ll be so addicted to my cock you’ll beg me to fuck you every chance you get. If you’ve got a really big buttplug hidden under your pillow, I suggest you grease it up and get busy.”
“Could you be any more crude?” Smith blushed to the roots of his hair.
“There’s plenty more where that came from.” Hatchet winked as he headed for the door. “See ya soon, sweetheart. Be good.”
Smith’s indignant expression was the last thing Hatchet saw before the elevator doors closed and that gave him a warm, satisfiedfeeling in the pit of his belly.
