Primary Storm Read Free Page B

whispering, "Are you awake?"
    "I am now."
    The scratches were wider on my back. She kissed and licked and nibbled at my ear, and then her hand moved about, so it was now scratching at my chest. She snuggled up against me, her warm skin upon my back and rear and legs, and she said, her voice still quiet, "I meant to tell you something earlier, but I forgot."
    "You did, did you. What is it?"
    Another kiss, a flick of her tongue against my ear. "You're a secretive man, Lewis, but I have secrets of my own."
    "Keep on talking."
    She giggled. "I'm part of a confidential organization, providing technical support to the Secret Service. And I've been tasked to subject you to a severe interrogation."
    I rolled over and she was in my arms, and I kissed her and she kissed me back, and I looked up at her in the faint moonlight, and said, "I surrender."
    She moved about, so that she was gently straddling me, and the bed suddenly got warmer. She bent down, her red hair tickling my nose. "Have you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?"
    "No."
    She started moving on top of me. I held her tight, with my hands against her side, her flesh smooth and warm. "Have you now, or have you ever been, a member of a group advocating the violent overthrow of the government of the United States?"
    "No... ma'am."
    I kissed her and she lightly moaned, and said, "Have you now, or have you ever been, a male with extensive lovemaking fantasies?"
    "Guilty as charged," I managed to say.
    "Good," she said, holding on to me with her strong hands.
    "Interrogation over."
    "Best news I've heard all night."
    "Oh, stop talking already," she said. "
    You started it."
    And she didn't say anything for a while after that, and neither did I.
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Sometime in the morning the shower was running, and I suppose a male who subscribed to Playboy magazine and worked out and was in top shape and form would have leapt out of bed to jump in the shower and wash Annie's back and see what else happened. However, since I'm one of those few who do buy Playboy occasionally for the articles and its fine fiction, I confess that I looked at the time and rolled over and went back to sleep. She's a dear but she can thrive and flourish on four or five hours of sleep, which I still didn't understand. I suppose I could give it a try, but I doubted I would live that long.
    So when I eventually woke up, got dressed, and went down-stairs, she was finishing an English muffin and a glass ·of orange juice and she had gotten changed into the contents of her overnight bag, which was now slung over her shoulder. For some reason my stomach felt queasy and the sight of the food and drink made me just a bit nauseous. Probably the after affects of not enough sack time and a too-rich dinner.
    Annie said, "I would have made you breakfast, except you were still snoring and sleeping."
    "Only half true, counselor. I was sleeping. I wasn't snoring."
    "Says you. Give me a kiss good-bye."
    "Sure," I said. "But not here. Up at the parking lot."
    "Oh, you romantic, you."
    I took the overnight bag from her shoulder and grabbed a coat from the downstairs closet. We both went outside into the early January morning. It was overcast. It seemed like every day this past week had been overcast.
    Annie said, "Brrr. Damn cold. Sick of it, I really do get sick of it."
    "Part of the grand plan," I said.
    "What's that?"
    "To make us appreciate summer more," I said.
    "Bah," she said. "Sounds like crap our Puritan ancestors made up to justify the lousy weather, and for settling their poor butts in this part of the world. Come along, sport, let's go."
    She slipped her arm into mine as we maneuvered our way up my frozen driveway. To our left were a mess of boulders and rocks that marked this part of the eighteen-mile New Hampshire coastline, and to our right was a sharp rise of land and more rocks, hiding Route l-A --- also known as Atlantic Avenue ---- from my house, and vice versa. Before us