Because I had been lying there in my bed, all the way out on the top of the Santa MonicaMountains I took his gun out of its shoulder holster and got a glimpse of a second gun in his belt. Neither of the men had forgiven Jean-Claude for his tardiness. He was unbuttoning his button fly jeans with one hand.
When I was done, panting on the bed, with the sheet down around my stomach, and my vision clearing, Jason asked from the far side of the bed, Is it safe now? Shut up, I managed. What do you want of me?” Pederson relaxed in the pneumorack. I'd really hoped the tiny cuts would heal instantly. I just shook my head.
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