Merritt's Story - Chapter 16

Chapter 16 is here!  You can read it inline or download the attached PDF.  Chapter 17 will come in a couple weeks, most likely 9/7.  I would have liked to not have an off week between 16 and 17 either, but alas, I need time for edits, and the upcoming DOTU scene I'm also working on is super labor intensive.

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Chapter 16

As Merritt headed out of the main ballroom with Belmont, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder toward the bar. Across the room, Archer met his eyes and gave him a nod, rising to her feet and discreetly following them out. Merritt could sense her presence several feet behind, but he didn’t dare to take a second look. Belmont’s stride was confident, almost businesslike, and he surprisingly maintained a few inches of distance from Merritt’s shoulders throughout the walk.

Once within the brightly lit elevator lobby, Merritt finally risked another glance behind him. Archer was nowhere in sight, and Merritt wasn’t sure when she’d veered off on her own. Belmont motioned for Merritt to board the elevator before him, and then he pressed the button for his suite. The overly bright ceiling light in the elevator cast fascinating shadows across Belmont’s face. Merritt felt the inexplicable urge to trace his finger over one of Belmont’s thick brows.

The moment the doors closed, Merritt’s heart began to race. He wasn’t sure if Belmont would wait until they got inside his suite or whether he’d try to get things started in the elevator. He wasn’t sure which scenario he would have preferred.

Was the elevator always this slow? It seemed to move at a snail’s pace. When Merritt noticed Belmont turning toward him, he asked, “How long did it take you to get everything moved into the new place?”

“A couple days? I don’t know. I only moved the important stuff myself. I had hired hands doing all the heavy lifting.”

“Did you keep Higgins’s furniture or have your own furniture moved in?”

“I had all of Higgins’s stuff trashed. I brought some of my old furniture and some stuff with sentimental value, but I mostly bought everything new.”

Merritt fought back a grimace at the thought of Belmont’s wastefulness. With resources as limited as they were in the underground, trashing Higgins’s belongings was clearly more a political statement than anything else.

Belmont could have discarded any poisoned wipes in his possession during the move. But Merritt believed Belmont would have arrogantly decided to keep at least a single wipe as a souvenir. It seemed likely, especially considering that he felt a couple tacky cufflinks were important enough to keep.

The elevator arrived at the sixth floor. When it opened, Merritt was surprised to see two men standing at either side of the door. “Those are my personal guards,” Belmont said with a boastful smile. “Higgins thought he was too smart to need his own guards. Look where that got him.”

Belmont led the way toward the new door to his place, which had replaced the door Merritt had kicked open. It had an old-fashioned manual lock that was operated by a metal key. Belmont fished the key out of his pocket and opened the door. Once they were both inside, he closed the door and turned the deadbolt.

Merritt looked around, wide-eyed, at the opulent living room in shades of black, white, and blood red. Belmont had really gone over the top with his decorating. Each item in the room looked more expensive than the last, the overall effect treading dangerously close to gaudy if not already falling over the edge.

“You have a leopard,” Merritt said, pointing to a life-size black marble sculpture in the corner, posed as if pouncing before a backdrop of sculpted bare tree trunks.

“A jaguar, actually.”

“Oh.” Merritt took another look around the room. In the corner opposite the jaguar was an eight-foot-tall male nude, also crafted in black marble. Merritt looked up; directly overhead, a glass shard chandelier awaited its chance to impale a hapless bystander. “Did you coordinate everything here yourself?” he asked, despite the answer being obvious.

“Yep.”

“You have a good eye. I can barely coordinate my own clothes, let alone an entire room.”

“My old place was about a quarter of the size of this suite. I couldn’t keep a lot of stuff there. So almost everything in this room is new, except for the sofa.” He pointed to the hard-edged, geometric sofa against the far wall, black leather with a metal frame, positioned in front of a black accent wall and flanked on either side by matching end tables. “You wouldn’t know by looking at it, but that’s the most comfortable sofa you’ll ever sit on. There was no way I could leave it behind. It’s just that fucking good.” He gestured with his head. “Give it a try. You’ll be shocked.”

Merritt headed across the room with Belmont at his side. He took a seat. “Wow,” he said. “You’re right, this is much more comfortable than I—”

Immediately, Belmont knocked him onto his back across the sofa and climbed on top of him. He held Merritt down against the cushions, stifling Merritt’s startled gasp with his mouth.

Tingling sparks bloomed across Merritt’s lips as they made contact with Belmont’s. Merritt urgently returned the kiss, sucking on Belmont’s lip and testing his teeth against Belmont’s skin. He met Belmont’s tongue with his own, in blind pursuit of the flickering heat that shot through his mouth. Amid the dizzying assault of teeth and tongue, he barely noticed Belmont slipping off his shoulder holsters, setting them aside then unbuttoning his suit jacket.

He lunged forward, nipping Belmont’s lower lip in challenge. With a pleased chuckle, Belmont pushed Merritt harder against the cushions, sliding his tongue past Merritt’s lips and drawing out a gasp. The buzz of warmth that had started in Merritt’s lips spread to his tongue. For the first time, Merritt understood why people never seemed able to resist making out with each other at bars after drinking Potent.

Belmont shifted his weight, his thigh nudging Merritt between the legs and launching more sparks under Merritt’s skin. Merritt turned his face away and sucked in a few steadying breaths, but Belmont caught him by the chin and continued the kiss while sliding a hand under his shirt.

Damn it. His body was electrified. He could barely remember why he’d come to Belmont’s suite. What was his plan? When was he going to find a moment to conduct his search?

What search? Why did he even care?

He met Belmont’s eyes and choked on his breath. Belmont’s fierce gaze sparkled brighter than any of the stardust under his skin. 

Belmont stared him down hungrily while grinding their hips against each other. Merritt flinched, barely able to withstand the intensity. A devious smile spread across Belmont’s lips at the sight of Merritt’s reaction, and he gave another deliberate nudge with his hips. When Merritt groaned, Belmont swallowed the sound with a kiss.

Merritt’s urge to touch Belmont grew too powerful to ignore. He freed the hand that had been sandwiched between their chests, but then he hesitated. Belmont still hadn’t granted him touch permission.

Belmont tore back his shirt and bit the base of his neck, and a flash of pain struck him before quickly turning to radiating heat. This time, Merritt didn’t have the leverage—or the desire—to throw Belmont to the ground and dislocate his arm. He closed his eyes, allowing the shooting stars to rain down on him.

This is not why you came here.

The voice in the back of his head nudged him into awareness, but it was tiny and quiet and distant….

You have a job to do.

Louder this time, but still too easy to ignore.

You have a pledge to keep.

With every last ounce of his willpower, he slid his free hand into his pocket, pressing the programmed button to send his distress signal to Archer. It was the only move he could manage before Belmont rubbed harder against him. He recoiled; the sensation was so intense it almost hurt, but more than anything, he wanted to feel it again.

Belmont’s laughter vibrated in his ear, accompanied by the heat of his breath. “You want it so bad you’re shaking,” he whispered. “I never thought you’d be like this.”

Merritt couldn’t find the words to reply.

Belmont grabbed one of his wrists and leaned in close. “Bet you’ve heard a lot of rumors about me, huh?” When Merritt replied only with his heavy breaths, Belmont said, “I know you have. Everyone in the underground talks about me. They say all kinds of shit about me. It’s what happens when you get powerful enough down here.” His lips grazed Merritt’s cheek. “You think any of the rumors are true?”

“I don’t know….”

Belmont pulled Merritt’s wrist downward, pressing Merritt’s hand between his legs. “How about now? Think any of the rumors are true?”

Merritt’s breath caught in his throat. The thin, silky layer of dress pants left no mystery about Belmont’s endowment.

Belmont pressed Merritt’s hand closer, guiding it up and down. He stared intently into Merritt’s eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re excited or terrified.”

Merritt couldn’t tell either. But his hand continued to grip and stroke as if by its own will.

After several more strokes, Belmont lunged forward again, pinning Merritt with his weight and leaning in for another kiss. Belmont knew what he was doing. Lips, hands, hips—they worked in chorus, reducing Merritt to shivers and moans.

A startling buzz against his inner thigh snapped him to attention. It took him a moment to realize that it was the cell phone in Belmont’s pocket. “Do you need to get that?” he gasped.

“I’ll let it go to voicemail.”

“What if it’s an emergency?”

“Then they’ll hang up and call again.” Belmont closed his lips over Merritt’s, putting an end to his questions.

The buzzing ceased. Belmont continued to lick and kiss and bite and rub. Merritt closed his eyes, on the verge of surrendering to the moment when the buzzing resumed.

“Oh, goddamnit,” Belmont muttered. He sucked in an almost angry breath, as if to brace himself before tending to the call. With clear reluctance, he climbed off Merritt and sat back on the sofa, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “Mannheim. What do you want? I’m pretty busy.”

There was a pause, and Merritt examined Belmont’s face as he listened to the news on the other line. Faint surges of heat still shot up and down his body, but the new space between him and Belmont offered a window of clarity. He had work to do, and this was his only chance to do it.

He needed to get Belmont’s attention. Belmont putting Merritt’s hand to his crotch counted as implicit permission according to the law of touch, so Merritt would be allowed to continue to touch Belmont in a romantic context until permission was revoked or the romantic encounter ended, whichever happened first.

He patted Belmont lightly on the knee. When Belmont didn’t respond, he gave it an insistent squeeze. At last, Belmont glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Merritt pointed toward the nearest door, mouthing the words, “Can I use your restroom?”

Belmont, listening to Mannheim with a terse frown, shooed Merritt dismissively with his hand.

Merritt grabbed his holsters off the floor and pulled them on, eyeing Belmont for a response. Belmont didn’t notice. Merritt hurried into the bathroom, closing and locking the door. Once in private, he leaned back against the door, taking in a shuddering breath. He could still feel the traces of Belmont’s touch all across his body, brightening and fading with the pulsing of his heart. They emerged in places that, in the heat of the moment, Merritt hadn’t even noticed being touched—his earlobe, the small of his back, the underside of his thigh.

What he wouldn’t give to go back to that sofa and yank the phone out of Belmont’s hand….

He gave his head a hard shake, hoping to wake himself up before the temptation could pull him in.

He had a pledge to keep. Time was limited. He needed to collect himself and move on.

With all his discipline, he focused on the task at hand. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he checked his texts. There was one message from Archer. Heading to the Michigan Café in ten minutes. Meet me if you can. I’ll let you know if plans change.

This was a coded phrase. The key words were “ten minutes.” That was how long Archer predicted Merritt would have before Belmont would be off the phone. On the day that he’d discovered Higgins’s body, he hadn’t gone very far into the suite, but he had seen that the bathroom was connected to the bedroom. With the right combination of speed and luck, he could search both rooms before Belmont was off the phone.

Belmont’s sink was a needlessly ornate contraption that looked more like a fountain than a sink. Above it, a mirrored medicine cabinet sat waiting to be searched. Merritt rifled through it as quickly as possible, but he saw nothing of note. 

The door leading from the bathroom to the bedroom was closed. Merritt carefully eased it open and entered. Relying on the dim simulated moonlight through the bedroom window for his first few steps, he spotted a lamp on the nearby nightstand and turned it on.

Opulent as Belmont’s room was, it was also impeccably clean and organized. Every object in sight was on deliberate display, and no stray items lay strewn about. A basic search of the room would be a quick and straightforward task. If that netted him nothing, he’d have to resort to something more thorough—removing drawers and checking their backs, searching between the mattress and box spring, removing vent covers, and so on. He didn’t have time for that. If such a search was necessary, he’d have to get himself a second invitation to the suite, with better advance planning.

But for now, he’d hang onto his optimism and hope that a basic search would turn up results.

There was no time to appreciate all the lavish décor. Merritt’s eyes lingered only a moment on the luxurious king bed that looked big enough to hold a family of five. Charging ahead, he sifted through the contents of Belmont’s dresser and then his closet. Still no luck.

He eyed a chest of drawers at the back of the closet, veiled in shadow as if boasting of the sordid contents hidden within. He opened the top drawer and stared down at its contents with confusion.

Lying before him in a neat row was what appeared to be a set of Christmas decorations. There were five ornate finials comprised of balls and bulges of various gradations, each crafted in glass or metal. They shone even in the dim light, and Merritt couldn’t help noticing how elegant and expensive they looked. Lying beside the row of finials was a string of large silver beads. Was it a bead garland, for use on a Christmas tree?

Merritt knew that he was wasting time, but these items were too fascinating to pass by. He’d read numerous above ground texts about the religious and secular rituals of the surface’s Christmas holiday, and he’d even seen some old digital catalogs showing an assortment of Christmas decorations, which was how he recognized the items in front of him. But no one in the underground celebrated Christmas. Christmas decorations weren’t even manufactured in the underground. So why would Belmont have genuine Christmas products from the surface?

Belmont had confessed to “occasionally” reading above ground literature. Did he know more about the surface than Merritt had realized? Even though Merritt found Belmont infuriating, the thought of having someone else to talk to about above ground culture was undeniably exciting.

He pushed the bead garland aside, noticing something hidden in darkness in the back corner of the drawer. He couldn’t open the drawer any further without risking a squeak, so he reached in and grabbed the base of the long, cylindrical object. A switch flipped under his finger, and the object began buzzing in his hand. He pulled it into view and yelped in alarm. It was an ultra-realistic vibrating dildo. The dildo fell from his panicked, fumbling fingers and landed atop the finials, sending them rolling and clattering against each other.

They were not Christmas ornaments at all. They were sex toys. The string of beads was not a bead garland; it was a string of anal beads.

He needed to turn off the rattling vibrator before Belmont heard it, but it had rolled to the back of the drawer. He patted about blindly with his hands, trying to find the dildo’s switch while the finial-shaped butt plugs danced and spun to the percussive beat. Finally, his fingertip met the switch. He flipped it and quickly shut the drawer.

He’d made a lot of noise. For a moment, he paused to listen for any movement from Belmont on the other side of the wall. He heard nothing.

Shit. The toys had been in a neat row when he’d found them. Surely, Belmont would notice if they were lying askew the next time he opened the drawer. Merritt had to put them back in place.

Gritting his teeth, he eased the drawer back open and, using the tip of his knuckle, gingerly rolled each item back into place. Then he closed the drawer again.

There were two more drawers below the first. He didn’t want to search them, but he knew he had to. The middle drawer was as neatly arranged as the top drawer. Metal clamps, paddles, whips, crops. The bottom drawer was filled to the brim with various restraints. Handcuffs, leather straps, gags, blindfolds, and more.

Merritt’s head spun as he pushed the drawer shut. This was more than he wanted to know about Belmont’s hobbies, and yet it took all his power to wrestle his thoughts away from them.

Forcing himself to concentrate, he examined the computer desk, where he found a drawer full of portable storage drives, some of them labeled with the names of other underground citizens. Merritt immediately recognized a few of the names from recent news articles revealing their shocking scandals.

Merritt would have bet money that the data stored on those devices was being used by Belmont for blackmail, and that the news articles were a result of some of his targets being uncooperative. He wished he had the time to see what was on one of the drives, but he knew that wasn’t what he was there for. He’d already wasted enough time poking around in the closet.

There were nightstands on either side of the bed. He approached the nearer side first. Its drawer had no handle; he had to push to disengage the lock, and then it sprung open.

Empty. He cursed. The only place left to search in Belmont’s bedroom was the remaining nightstand. He hurried around the bed, trying his best to be quiet but also trying to be quick.

Atop the nightstand sat an etched silver box of tissues and a black vase holding three peacock feathers that looked authentic even though there were no peacocks in the underground. Merritt opened the drawer. Like the rest of Belmont’s room, the drawer’s contents were impeccably organized. A notepad, an expensive-looking fountain pen, three types of lubricant, a row of at least thirty condoms, and an equally long row of disinfecting wipes. Merritt picked up the wipe at the front of the row and examined it. It was a familiar brand, sold at most North Sphere drugstores. If the wipes were all poisoned, Merritt hardly thought it was a good idea for Belmont to keep them alongside his lube and condoms. What if a guest used one by accident? Then again, the low dose on the wipes might not have been enough for Belmont to be concerned.

Looking closer, Merritt noticed that the wipes toward the back of the row were in a slightly different package than the ones at the front. It was the same brand, but the packaging design looked to be slightly older. He pulled out one of the wipes in the back and examined it.

It took him a moment before he noticed something odd near the edge of the packaging. It could have been just a wrinkle or a printing artifact, but it was hard to tell. Merritt held it under the light of the nightstand, squinting until he could make sense of the tiny mark.

A pinprick. Just like Archer said, it looked like Belmont had stuck a syringe through the packaging, squirted a few drops of MYGG-2 onto the wipe, and then resealed the hole with a thin layer of white glue. The plugged hole was subtle enough that no one would notice it unless they wanted to notice it as badly as Merritt did.

He pulled out another wipe from the back of the row and held it under the light. After another moment of scrutiny, he found an identical pinprick.

This is it. Surely, this was the proof he’d been looking for. He took two packs and then closed the drawer. He couldn’t risk hiding them on his body. He pulled one of his pistols out of his holster, disengaged the magazine, and slid the packs inside next to the bullets. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to shoot that particular pistol before getting the wipes back to Archer for testing. He reassembled his pistol and stowed it back in his holster. Then he pulled out his phone, sending Archer a coded text to let her know he’d found something but hadn’t yet exited Belmont’s suite.

I’m having a great time. I’ll meet you later if I can.

This coded message told Archer that Merritt had succeeded in finding what he was looking for, and that he would now attempt to leave Belmont’s suite. He had ten minutes to get to safety and send Archer a confirmation text, or to send a follow-up text saying he needed more time. If he didn’t send another text before his new time limit was up, Archer or Devon would trigger another diversion.

Quickly, he returned to the bathroom, where he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Then he pressed his ear to the door.

Silence. Most likely, Belmont was no longer on the phone.

He took a moment to assess the situation. He had accomplished his objective. He was now free to leave as soon as he could create an opening. His original escape plan was to poison himself with the vial of IPJ-8 in his concealed poison pack and wait for the projectile vomiting to set in. It would instantly kill the mood while giving him the perfect excuse to leave Belmont’s suite. It would probably be the safest option.

But then he would be weak and nauseated for the rest of the night, and he’d have to call someone for a ride. And, in the back of his mind, he knew that the last thing he wanted was to be seen heaving and shaking and puking by a man who, only moments ago, had touched him and kissed him as if he were more desirable than anyone else in the North Sphere.

It would be better if he could talk his way out of the situation.

Cautiously, he stepped out of the bathroom.

Belmont sat on the edge of the sofa, his lips pressed together. He looked a bit preoccupied. “Is everything all right?” Merritt asked. “Did something happen?”

“Fucking hackers,” Belmont said. “It’s always hackers. But it’s no big deal. Mannheim’s got it under control.”

“You don’t need to go and check it out?”

“Mannheim’s head of the Intelligence Department. It’s his job, not mine.”

This would be Merritt’s cue to figure out an excuse to leave, but he found himself hesitating. It was hard to assess Belmont’s mood, but Merritt still felt a prickling rush under his skin. He was having trouble nudging himself toward the exit.

No. He had to be reasonable. Archer and Devon were waiting for him. He couldn’t keep them on standby for something so selfish—something he could just as easily get out of.

As he inched his way toward the door, Belmont stood up and approached him. Thinking fast, Merritt said, “If this is a serious breach, he could be calling you all night. I don’t want to be a distraction for you. He could call you again in five minutes.”

“Then we better hurry and get to it,” Belmont said, his voice low. Merritt watched him close the distance, expecting a kiss or an embrace. Instead, Belmont shoved Merritt hard against the wall, pinning his wrists to the plaster.

Merritt couldn’t find his breath. He was stunned by the narrowed green eyes that peered at him with something other than lust alone. “What are you doing?” he managed to gasp.

“What am I doing?” Belmont asked. “The real question is, what were you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I could hear you in my bedroom. What were you doing in there?”

“I…” There was no good excuse. He could say that he felt sick and was looking for painkillers or nausea remedy, but he knew Belmont wouldn’t buy it. Instead, he dropped all attempts at a poker face and let his guilt show through. “I was just curious. I wanted to see what it looked like.”

The intensity remained in Belmont’s eyes, but he cracked a bit of a smile. “Oh?”

“I didn’t get very far. I just took a quick look around. You have a…”

A good sense of design. An eye for organization.

“…a really big bed.”

Something like a snort escaped Belmont’s tightly pressed lips. His white hot gaze locked on Merritt again, and Merritt thought he’d cleared the hurdle, but then Belmont turned Merritt around and slammed him against the wall, harder than necessary. Pressing against Merritt from behind, Belmont lowered his hands to Merritt’s hips, patted them lightly, and then stuck his hands into Merritt’s pockets.

“What are you doing?” Merritt asked again.

Without a reply, Belmont pulled his hands out of Merritt’s pockets and slid them up the sides of his body.

Merritt forced a smile. “I can’t tell if this is frisking or foreplay.”

Belmont leaned in close, nuzzling Merritt’s neck as he continued the pat-down. “It depends on what I find.”

He pressed Merritt’s palms against the plaster at either side of his head. “Don’t move,” he whispered as he continued his search.

No fear, no worry about Belmont stumbling upon the stolen wipes. Merritt could barely think beyond the fiery ache that chased Belmont’s fingers across his body. Belmont’s hands shifted toward Merritt’s hips. Locating the poison pack strapped along the inner waistband of Merritt’s pants, he asked, “What’s this?”

“Requisite poison pack,” Merritt said through heavy breaths. “I’m a perpetual duty soldier. I have to carry them.”

“Right,” Belmont muttered. “Why are they hidden, though?”

“Fancy party,” was all Merritt could choke out. After another breath, he added, “I… didn’t want to look bad.” Another hungry gasp. “I have a blade too. At my ankle.”

“Ugh, soldiers,” Belmont muttered. He seemed to accept the explanation, but he removed the packs and blade nonetheless.

When Merritt felt Belmont remove his guns from his holsters, his heart began hammering, but his nerves only fed the flames of his Potent intoxication.

Belmont briefly searched the insides of the holsters. Satisfied, he tossed the guns onto the nearby counter and moved on. He grabbed Merritt’s jacket by the lapels and yanked it off his shoulders, tracing up the back of Merritt’s neck with his tongue as he tossed the garment aside. Next, he unbuttoned Merritt’s dress shirt, sliding it off his shoulders as well. Merritt tried to shrug out of it, but Belmont twisted the cloth before it cleared his arms. Pinning Merritt’s wrists within the tangled shirt, Belmont pressed against him from behind.

Fireworks shot across Merritt’s bare back as Belmont’s clothed chest grazed his skin. Overwhelmed by the sensation, Merritt reflexively tried to buck free, but Belmont pinned him tighter. Fingertips dragged over the ripples of Merritt’s muscles, following the sinewy grooves all the way down to his waist. When Belmont unzipped Merritt’s pants and slid a hand in, an embarrassing moan escaped Merritt’s lips.

“Potent’s still running strong, I see,” Belmont murmured into his ear. His hand descended further, and Merritt flinched from the sudden wave of pleasure. He squeezed his eyes shut, fingernails digging into his palms.

Belmont’s hand withdrew, earning a frustrated hiss from Merritt.

After a few teasing pats on the ass, Belmont pulled his hand free and sighed, leaning against Merritt from behind.

“Didn’t find anything, did you?” Merritt asked, his voice weak and breathy.

“Not yet. Looks like it’s time for a full body cavity search.”

“Cavity search is really a third date sort of thing.”

Belmont laughed. He leaned in closer, nipping at the side of Merritt’s neck. Again, Merritt felt a buzz from the vicinity of Belmont’s hip.

He’d gone over his time limit. This phone call must have been another diversion from Archer and Devon. He felt a rush of disappointment and immediately cursed himself. This was what you asked for, idiot. This is what you need.

Belmont answered his phone, still leaning against Merritt. “Damn it, Mannheim, you said you wouldn’t bother me again.”

Merritt’s head was only inches away from Belmont’s phone, and he could hear Mannheim’s voice on the other line. “Sorry, Belmont. We got the situation under control, but we had to preemptively wipe your thumbprint from the system to prevent it from being stolen. We’ve booted the hacker, locked down the system, and patched it. But until we can reenter your thumbprint, you won’t be able to access any restricted areas. That means you won’t even be able to get back up the elevator to your suite on your own once you leave it. We need you to come down here right away so we can get your thumbprint. One of your guards will have to escort you since they have clearance.”

“Can it wait till morning? Can it wait even an hour?”

“I wouldn’t advise it. If there’s an emergency, you won’t be able to get into the safe room. We’ve been on high alert ever since you dug up the West Sphere’s plan to attack us. It’s too risky to leave this unresolved for even an hour.”

“This is such bullshit. I have to go all the way across town just to reenter my thumbprint? What kind of sloppy kindergarten solution is that? I can’t believe you didn’t have another way to block those hackers.”

“I’m sorry, Belmont. We were under the gun, and we had to make fast decisions.”

Belmont let out a frustrated growl. “Fine. I’m on my way now.” He hung up his phone and took a few steps away. “Well,” he muttered, his gaze lingering on Merritt. “So much for that.”

Merritt shrugged. “It happens. I understand.”

Belmont straightened out his clothes as Merritt dressed himself and retrieved his weapons. “I don’t normally let people hang around my suite without me, but if you want to wait here until I come back….”

Merritt hesitated. He knew he had to get back to Archer with the poisoned wipes, but if he agreed to stay and wait for Belmont, he could do more snooping. Or maybe something else.

Be reasonable, Merritt.

“How long do you think you’ll be?” Merritt asked.

“I don’t know. Half an hour? An hour?” Belmont’s gaze turned from lustful to sneaky. “I’d expect you to stay put, of course. No more snooping around.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe we can work something out to make sure you don’t get ‘curious’ again.”

Merritt suddenly remembered the assortment of restraints in Belmont’s closet, among other things, and he had a feeling Belmont was trying to discern whether or not Merritt had searched his closet. He’d have to play dumb. “It’s tempting, but I have an early morning tomorrow. Sunday drills. Maybe we can try again another time?”

Belmont sighed and shook his head. “Two glasses of high grade Potent for nothing. This evening couldn’t have possibly gone worse. But on the bright side, you’ll be happy to know that you’re no longer my least favorite hacker.” Gesturing toward the door, he said, “I’ll walk you out.”

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