Price Of Honor

Chapter Eight

Blair said good-bye to her father at the elevator to the second floor of the residence and walked out the west entrance toward the street to catch a cab.

“Blair!” Cam caught up with her on the sidewalk. “Want some company?”

“Your kind.” Blair kissed Cam quickly on the cheek, slipped her arm through Cam’s, and snuggled close, looking for warmth in the biting wind but mostly just wanting the pleasure of her hard body up close. “Is this a happy accident?”

“Ah…not exactly.”

“Stark called you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I suppose Dad is in trouble now too?”

Cam laughed. “You do know it stresses the shift when Eagle goes off the record, right? And both of you…”

Blair chuckled. “It was only a burger.”

“Right. A burger that required a motorcade, half a dozen agents tear-assing across town to clear the place before he got there, press corps piling into SUVs and creating havoc in the streets, and probably a dozen more gray hairs on Tom Turner’s head.”

“Tom doesn’t have any gray.”

“He will if you keep encouraging your father to go AWOL.”

“You know he loves it.”

“I know,” Cam said. “Just promise you won’t do a burger run when we’re out on the campaign trail.”

“You always said that impromptu public appearances are the safest because no one expects him. It’s not like anyone was waiting at Five Guys for the president to walk in.”

“That’s true, but you can never be sure that somebody who just happens to be there won’t take it upon themselves to make a move. The only way to be safe is to predict and plan for—”

“Any contingency.” Blair sighed. “I know. I know you’re right. But I know what it’s like to be caged in. And it’s got to be a lot worse for him.”

“His choice,” Cam pointed out, not unkindly. “And it’s not about just him. It’s about the office and the—”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Cam slid her arm around Blair’s waist and pulled her under her arm. “I know it wasn’t your doing. Besides, Andrew knows better. But it would be good sometimes if you could talk him out of it. He’s too much of a public president as it is.”

“It’s important to him, to his image. And it’s really important now. I hate to say it, but I agree with Adam. Part of Dad’s problem has always been his background. He’s an intellectual, he comes from money, he’s seen as part of the elite. He’s not like that at all, but he has to work to appeal to a certain spectrum of the population. A big spectrum.”

“Agreed. But nothing is worth risking his safety.” Cam kissed Blair’s temple. “Or yours.”

“All right. I’ll be the grown-up this trip.”

“Thank you. And I know Tom won’t say anything, but he’ll secretly thank you too.”

“Are you done for the night, then?”

“Yes. Wheels up at five. We’ll have to leave for Andrews around four.”

“Did you eat?”

“A sandwich in the canteen.”

“Cam, that’s not food. What about takeout?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“Guilty. Two burgers and fries.”

“I think I might hate you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Really?” Cam stepped off the curb and flagged a cab. As it careened across the lane of traffic toward them she stepped back onto the curb, putting herself between Blair and the road. “How?”

“I’ll leave that for you to think about.”

Cam opened the cab door as two black SUVs pulled into line behind the cab. She couldn’t see through the smoked glass but she knew the position of the occupants. Stark rode on the passenger side. Mac Phillips drove. The shift was in the follow car. She’d been aware of them following her and Blair as they’d walked from the White House. Giving in to Blair’s need for a little bit of freedom had meant putting up with cab rides. The shifts didn’t like it, but they liked Blair evading them even less. This way at least they knew where she was, and cabs were another unlikely source of problems. When Stark had called her to tell her Blair insisted on walking partway and catching a cab, Cam had waited for her at the White House so she could walk with her. Stark felt better about that. So did she.

They settled into the backseat and Cam gave the driver their condo address. Blair curled against her, slid a hand inside her topcoat, and rested it on her abdomen. Cam looped an arm around Blair’s shoulders. Being close to her was the most comforting experience she’d ever known. “I love you.”

Blair stroked Cam’s middle. “I love you too. Are you all right?”

“Yes. Just…happy.”

Blair rubbed her cheek against Cam’s shoulder. “Me too.”

The cab pulled over, Cam paid the driver, and before they could step out, the SUVs moved in quickly behind them. Three agents jumped out, bracketed the two of them as they got out of the cab, and walked them toward their building. Cam nodded to the agent nearest her. “We’ll be in for the rest of the night.”

Brock nodded. He’d stand post in the lobby until the next shift arrived. The others would be with the cars until they were ready to leave for Andrews and the trip to Chicago aboard Air Force One. Until then, she and Blair would be alone.

Once inside the apartment, Cam shed her topcoat and took Blair’s. She hung them both in the closet by the door and took off her blazer. Blair kicked off her shoes and leaned against the back of the sofa that separated the kitchen-dining area from the living area. She braced her arms on either side of her hips and gave Cam an appraising look. Cam unbuckled her belt. Blair’s gaze dropped to her hips as she slid the leather slowly through the loops and draped it over the back of the sofa. Watching Blair watch her, she unbuttoned her shirt, pulled it from her pants, and left it hanging open.

“Want me to keep going?” Cam said.

“Oh yes.”

“Then you have to follow me into the bedroom.”

“At the moment, I’d follow you just about anywhere.”

Cam laughed and held out her hand. Blair took it and Cam led her down the hall to the master bedroom at the far end. She motioned for Blair to sit on the edge of the bed, and once Blair was settled, watching her again, she slowly undressed, removing each article of clothing and draping it over the clothes stand in the corner.

“Now you.” Cam pulled Blair to her feet and swept down the covers. Blair wrapped both arms around her neck, her sweater pleasantly rough against her bare nipples.

“You undress me,” Blair murmured.

Cam slid her hand under the waistband of Blair’s pants, slowly caressing the firm curve of her ass. Blair moaned softly and kissed her throat. Cam eased the cashmere up Blair’s abdomen, over her breasts, and, backing away a step, slipped the sweater over her head. She draped it at the foot of the bed and released the clasp on Blair’s bra, drawing the straps down her arms and off. She kissed Blair again, then made her way down her throat, kissing her way to the hollow between her collarbones. She cupped her breasts, massaging both nipples with her thumbs.

Blair arched her back and groaned. “God, I love your hands.”

“I love the way you feel.” Cam lifted her breasts and kissed each one before kneeling and pressing her face to Blair’s abdomen. She wrapped her arms around Blair’s hips and tugged her close, kissing the curve of her abdomen and the tight line of her hipbone where it disappeared beneath her pants. She kept kissing her as she worked the zipper down and, with her thumbs hooked over the waistband, pulled her pants and underwear down her thighs.

Blair stepped free, kicking the clothes away and parting her thighs. Cam murmured her approval and stroked the valley at the junction of her abdomen and inner thigh. Blair gasped and her hips tightened. Cam held her steady with both hands on her ass, guiding her closer to her mouth each time she kissed her. When she stroked along her cleft, Blair gasped again.

“I won’t last,” Blair warned.

“I don’t want you to.”

Cam teased her, feeling the tension build in her tight thighs, speeding up as the muscles beneath her hands clenched and released, clenched and released.

“I’m almost there.”

Cam tugged her in and Blair came hard in her mouth, gripping her head, fingers buried in her hair, rocking and shouting. Cam closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Blair’s lower belly as Blair quivered. Her heart pounded as if she’d just run a hard mile.

“Bed,” Blair gasped, light-headed and weak-kneed. And hungry, so, so hungry.

Cam stood and guided her down, climbed in after her, and yanked the sheets up with one hand as she stretched out above her. “More?”

“In a minute.” Blair sighed, stroked Cam’s back, and ran her fingers along the divide between the tight muscles of her ass. She pushed her thigh between Cam’s, felt the wet, and the heat. “I love how hot you get when you make me come.”

“Every time.” Cam buried her face in Blair’s neck and thrust against her thigh. “I love making you come.”

“You can get as close you want,” Blair whispered in Cam’s ear, “but I want to fuck you when you’re ready to come.”

Cam groaned. “Anytime. Now is good.”

Laughing, Blair pushed until Cam rolled onto her back. She followed her over and cupped between her thighs. Cam pushed into her palm and she filled her. Tight. Wet. Hot. Her breath stopped. Her heart stuttered. So beautiful. Slowly she stroked.

“Fuck,” Cam gasped.

Blair laughed and pushed deeper. Cam tightened around her, her belly went hard, and her back arched. Keeping steady, Blair stroked her through the orgasm and kept stroking her until she came again.

“Done.” Cam groaned again.

Blair curled up beside her, hand still between her thighs, cupping her as she settled. “I think you’ve got me going again.”

“Handy,” Cam murmured, turning on her side and drawing Blair’s leg over her hip. Blair pressed against her thigh and moaned. Cam cupped her from behind and stroked the undersurface of her clit. The want returned full force, energizing her. Blair was hers and she could never get enough.

“God,” Blair gasped, sliding up and down, “I’m going to come again.”

“Yes,” Cam whispered close to her ear as Blair shook in her arms.

Cam held her close as she drifted toward sleep. Tomorrow she would have to share her. Tomorrow and the days that followed, she’d have to depend on others to protect her, but for tonight, nothing and no one could touch her.

*

Hooker answered on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I’ll be at Danny’s Diner outside Emmett for the next hour. I’ve got fifty thousand dollars with me.”

“What about the rest of it?”

Jane laughed. “I’m not walking around with it.”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes, and there’s nothing you could do to me to make me tell you where it is.”

“Whoa. Whoa. No need to go there.”

“Let’s not pretend we both don’t know who we’re dealing with.” The minute hand on the chrome clock behind the counter, its face dimmed with years of grease, jumped forward another notch. “Fifty-eight minutes now.”

“How do I know you’re not a cop?”

“You’ll recognize me, if you look carefully.”

“What?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“You know,” Jane said, sipping the surprisingly good black coffee, “I thought your voice sounded familiar. Now it all makes sense, why my…Graves dealt with you. You’ve got an important boss.”

She was guessing, but she knew in her heart she was right. The kind of men her father had been forced to associate with for the sake of the mission never did their own dirty work. They used men like the one she was talking to—cowards and traitors at the core.

“I don’t know—”

“I guess it’s a little too cold for ice cream this time around. You can buy me a burger instead.”

The line was silent for twenty seconds. “You’re a long way from home. Angela, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t matter now.”

“Are you sure you’re not being watched?”

“I’d know. And if I was, they wouldn’t be watching. They don’t have that kind of patience.”

“I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

“I’ll order the burgers.”

Hooker laughed flatly. “Fine. Make mine with cheese and fries.”

Jane hung up and signaled to the waitress. “I’ll have a refill on the coffee. I’m waiting for a friend.” She ordered cheeseburgers for both of them and fries for Hooker. “Give it half an hour.”

“Sure, honey,” the waitress said without giving her more than a glance and hurried off to slap the ticket down on the counter in front of the short-order cook.

The burgers came, and five minutes after that Hooker walked in. His hair was a little longer than when she’d seen him in Georgia and his body bulkier in a dark brown canvas coat, work pants, and boots. A day’s worth of stubble blunted his heavy features. But his was a face she couldn’t forget. She’d last seen him when she’d handed him a vial of live virus, but she’d imagined killing him a hundred times since then.

She thought about reaching for the semiautomatic nestled in the waistband of her pants at the base of her spine and shooting him as he walked toward her. He was the reason Jennifer was in prison. He’d handed off the delivery to a go-between who’d botched everything. If he’d made the exchange himself, keeping the number of people involved to a minimum, no one would’ve known. The president would be dead or severely compromised, and Jennifer would be free. Her father would be alive. And they’d be another step closer to victory.

He deserved to be punished, another lesson she’d learned in childhood. Simple justice, an eye for an eye. But right now, he was her only connection to the people who could get her the kinds of things she needed to finish the mission. He looked around, studying the few patrons in the diner. At close to nine, most everyone was off the roads and inside where it was warm. A few truckers sat at the counter, hunched over coffees and plates of food, and two teenagers occupied one side of a booth at the very end of the long railroad-car-styled room, necking. He studied her with no expression, walked down the scuffed red-and-black-tiled aisle, and slid into the booth across from her. He glanced down at the burger, then back at her. “You cut your hair.”

“I need a contact between here and Colorado Springs to provide me a product.”

Hooker took a bite of the hamburger. “Not a bad burger.” He wiped his mouth and picked up a fry. “Guns?”

Jane shook her head. “Explosives.”

Hooker took a bite of a fry, then popped the rest into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “That’s not an easy choice of weapon—you need to get close to somebody—and you’re likely to get blown up yourself.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.”

“I’ve got two hundred and fifty thousand reasons to worry.”

Jane reached down beside her, picked up the wrinkled supermarket bag, and placed it on the table next to her plate. She put her hand on it. “You give me the information I need, and you’ll have fifty thousand less reasons to worry.”

“It’ll take some time.”

“Six tomorrow morning. I’ll be gone after that, and I’ll find another way to get what I need. When I meet the contact and receive the product, I’ll wire you the money.”

He shook his head. “Cash now. Information in the morning.”

“Ten now, the rest upon delivery.” Jane slid the bag into her lap and extracted the ten grand she’d secured with a rubber band. She tossed it under the table onto the seat beside him. She’d figured he’d want an incentive. She doubted his boss would ever see that money. “I’ll call you at six. Thanks for dinner.”