“What is your name?” He adjusted the position of his fingers and probed deeper.
“Cassandra Ballard,” she cried out, her voice both shrill and hoarse. She gasped for breath as he paused for a moment, shuddering under his smirk.
“Are you associated with any terrorist organizations?” The motion of his hand resumed much rougher as he spoke. She screamed.
“No!” She struggled to catch her breath. This had been going on for hours.
The rasp of her panting was cut by a loud electronic ringtone.
“SSG. Hamby,” he answered the phone briskly. “Interrogating a prisoner, sir,” he chuckled for a moment, but that stopped abruptly.
She was glad to get a minute of rest as his hushed tone droned in her ears. She braced herself when she heard him set the phone back on the bedside table.
“I have to go in.”
She turned toward him, with a disappointed pout. “But I was about to give a confession.”
“I know, babe. But you know the General wouldn’t call this late if it wasn’t urgent,” he said with a heavy sigh as he rose from the bed. He was irritated, this always seemed to happen right when things were getting good. He leaned down and gave his still-shaking fiance a tender kiss before he got dressed.
“You’re not going to shower?” She could barely manage more than a whisper.
“If they’re going to drag me out of bed at this hour, they may as well know exactly what I got pulled away from.” He knew he smelled strongly of sweat and sex, and what he really needed was that smell to remind him of her. It would make it easier to distance himself from what he was about to do.
By the time he’d finished lacing up his boots, Cassandra had passed out. He gave her naked body one last long look before he closed the bedroom door behind him.