Free Patriotic Duty by C.J. Pinard Page B

tossed my small duffel bag onto
the bed and looked over at Riley, who was looking around the room. He turned
and looked at me.
    “Nice room.” He smiled.
    I licked my lips and
nodded. “I agree.”
    He stepped toward me
slowly and moved a strand of blonde hair from my eyes. “I hope you like it,” he
whispered, looking down at me.
    “Of course I like it,
you’re in it.”
    He grinned slightly and
slid his hand down to my cheek, lightly rubbing his thumb along it while
staring into my green eyes, a million unsaid words swimming in his eyes. I
looked up at him, pleading wordlessly for him to tell me what he was thinking.
I could tell he wanted to say something, but was holding back. I continued to
stare up into his deep eyes until he slowly leaned down and kissed me on the
mouth, intense yet soft. I closed my eyes and accepted the kiss, licking his
lips with my tongue and letting them caress my own as his fingers continued to
lightly brush my face.
    I put my hands up the back
of his blue T-shirt and rubbed his back, his skin warm and soft under my touch,
the muscles of his back smooth planes of bulk. His hand moved slowly around to
the back of my head, and he grabbed a fistful of hair near the scalp and pulled
slightly, causing me to break the kiss and lean my head back. With my neck
exposed, he began running kisses down it and I shivered.
    Running my hand around to
the front of his jeans, I unsnapped the button and as I went for the zipper, I
felt his hand on my wrist. He pulled his head up and looked at me.
    “Tsk, tsk. We just got
here and you’re already ripping my clothes off.”
    I looked at him
incredulously. “What the hell did you expect me to do when you kiss me like
that?”
    He grinned wickedly and
snapped his jeans. “I’m hungry. We can finish this later.” He adjusted his hard
bulge and put his T-shirt back down.
    “You tease,” I said,
punching him lightly in the stomach.
    “ Ow ,
cop, you punch hard,” he joked.
    I hated when he called me
that. Yes I work in law enforcement, but I’m no cop, trust me. He always loved
listening to my stories about the prison and my training. Even though I was a
secretary, I was trained at the academy and get law enforcement pay. He thinks
it’s funny but Miranda and I never tell people this, as it gives them the wrong
impression. We rarely use our handcuffing and self-defense skills on the job
and mainly push paper all day, along with dealing with mouthy inmates and the
occasional strip search or urinalysis when there are no other female C.O.s available. I arrange their releases for when they get
out, so they’re mostly nice to me, but they have their moments. Trust me, it doesn’t make me a badass in any form of the word.
    “Did you bring your
handcuffs?” he asked.
    I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Let it go.”
    “Never.”
    The El Dorado had a very
nice restaurant, and after eating some serious prime rib, we took to the
boulevard to walk around. It was now dark and the glittering lights of the
biggest little city in the world looked pretty under a clear, starlit night. It
was warm with a slightly cool breeze blowing.
    Riley grabbed my hand as
we wandered into Harrah’s to do some gambling. I choked back a giggle at my
memories of this place and hoped Riley couldn’t read it on my face and ask me
about it. That was definitely a story that was going to forever stay between
Miranda and me. Something for us to talk about in our old age
and laugh about. I looked up as he led us through the massive lobby to a
plush carpeted casino, loud with jangling slot machines, dinging alarms, and
people yelling and laughing. Also heavy in the air was cigarette smoke, and I
frowned as I remembered it was legal to smoke in casinos, then I remembered why
I don’t like to gamble.
    That, and I never have money to burn on it.
    Riley went to the
cashier’s window and slid some bills under the plexiglass partition. The cashier handed him back ten rolls of quarters. He smacked