Edge of Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Wolf Wootan
explanation!
“And they said they slept with me?” she
sniffed, missing the weakness of his statement.
“Not in so many words, but you know how guys
are. They will never admit that they struck out.”
“But you assumed I was?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then maybe my superiors will think so,
too!” she said with a sigh. “It is important that they do.
Otherwise, I am in even bigger trouble. Are you going to turn me
in, or have you already?”
“I haven’t yet,” he responded.
“And I know why you haven’t. You wanted to
take my pants off first, right?” she accused.
“You mean get
into your pants ,” he corrected.
She thought for a moment, then said, “That
does not make much sense. Your American idioms are very strange
sometimes. I was trying not to use a more vulgar expression. What I
meant to say is that you wanted to screw me. Is that more
understandable?”
She laughed as she said that, starting to
feel better.
“Now, Kat,” he soothed, stroking her
hair.
She moved away from his chest and took his
left hand in both of hers and pulled it to her chest, resting it
between her breasts.
“I have an idea. Let me go wash my face and
fix my makeup. Order us another of these rum drinks while I am
gone. Then we will start over. No more talk today of what a poor
spy I am, or that you are trying to screw me. We will enjoy the
rest of the day as we were before I spoiled it!”
With that, she grabbed her handbag and headed
for the Ladies’ Room.
Hatcher took a quick trip to the Men’s Room
and splashed cold water on his face, trying to pull himself
together. Her revelations had shaken him deeply. He knew the right
thing to do was to take her home, forget her, and move on with his
life. Or he could give her name to the appropriate people in the
CIA and let her become their problem. Somehow, he could not bring
himself to do either. He had to see how this strange scenario would
play out. He trudged back to the couch in front of the huge
fireplace, ordering more drinks on the way.
When she returned, there was no trace of her
previous tears. She had a wide smile and looked radiant again. She
had unbuttoned her sweater and he saw she was wearing a white,
vee-necked top underneath it. She sat down next to him, picked up
her drink, and then faced him.
“To better relations between us,” she
smiled.
He retrieved his glass from the table and
clinked it against hers.
“To women like you, who put men like me in
their places,” he smiled back.
“Now let us talk of more pleasant things,”
she continued. “May I have a cigarette, please?”
• • •
For dinner, he took her to an Italian
restaurant. She insisted on spaghetti, over the more exotic dishes
available, and he delighted in watching her try to eat it. She
managed to get sauce all over her pretty face. They laughed a lot
and drank red wine that came from a bottle wrapped in straw. He did
not try the martini ploy as he had planned earlier. After dessert
and coffee, he hailed the waiter and asked for the bill.
“You know, Bob, I have never had such a
nice day. I have comfortable feelings toward you. I am willing to
make a deal with you. I will break my rule about no kissing on the
first date, if you will promise me you will not pursue your goal tonight. I would very much
enjoy snuggling with you and—how do you Americans say—petting?” she
said as the waiter left the table with Bob Kelly’s credit
card.
He had not heard that term in years. He knew
what it meant. A lot of kissing and no screwing! He had not spent a
lot of time immersed in that scenario. Not since high school. Could
he promise Kat that he would not try to go farther than just
kissing? Somehow, he thought he could. Besides, he was dying to
kiss this woman! He experienced a warm feeling just thinking about
snuggling with her in front of a roaring fire, and kissing those
sweet lips. Yes, he thought he would like that.
“Petting?” he said with an arched eyebrow.
“That would
“And they said they slept with me?” she
sniffed, missing the weakness of his statement.
“Not in so many words, but you know how guys
are. They will never admit that they struck out.”
“But you assumed I was?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then maybe my superiors will think so,
too!” she said with a sigh. “It is important that they do.
Otherwise, I am in even bigger trouble. Are you going to turn me
in, or have you already?”
“I haven’t yet,” he responded.
“And I know why you haven’t. You wanted to
take my pants off first, right?” she accused.
“You mean get
into your pants ,” he corrected.
She thought for a moment, then said, “That
does not make much sense. Your American idioms are very strange
sometimes. I was trying not to use a more vulgar expression. What I
meant to say is that you wanted to screw me. Is that more
understandable?”
She laughed as she said that, starting to
feel better.
“Now, Kat,” he soothed, stroking her
hair.
She moved away from his chest and took his
left hand in both of hers and pulled it to her chest, resting it
between her breasts.
“I have an idea. Let me go wash my face and
fix my makeup. Order us another of these rum drinks while I am
gone. Then we will start over. No more talk today of what a poor
spy I am, or that you are trying to screw me. We will enjoy the
rest of the day as we were before I spoiled it!”
With that, she grabbed her handbag and headed
for the Ladies’ Room.
Hatcher took a quick trip to the Men’s Room
and splashed cold water on his face, trying to pull himself
together. Her revelations had shaken him deeply. He knew the right
thing to do was to take her home, forget her, and move on with his
life. Or he could give her name to the appropriate people in the
CIA and let her become their problem. Somehow, he could not bring
himself to do either. He had to see how this strange scenario would
play out. He trudged back to the couch in front of the huge
fireplace, ordering more drinks on the way.
When she returned, there was no trace of her
previous tears. She had a wide smile and looked radiant again. She
had unbuttoned her sweater and he saw she was wearing a white,
vee-necked top underneath it. She sat down next to him, picked up
her drink, and then faced him.
“To better relations between us,” she
smiled.
He retrieved his glass from the table and
clinked it against hers.
“To women like you, who put men like me in
their places,” he smiled back.
“Now let us talk of more pleasant things,”
she continued. “May I have a cigarette, please?”
• • •
For dinner, he took her to an Italian
restaurant. She insisted on spaghetti, over the more exotic dishes
available, and he delighted in watching her try to eat it. She
managed to get sauce all over her pretty face. They laughed a lot
and drank red wine that came from a bottle wrapped in straw. He did
not try the martini ploy as he had planned earlier. After dessert
and coffee, he hailed the waiter and asked for the bill.
“You know, Bob, I have never had such a
nice day. I have comfortable feelings toward you. I am willing to
make a deal with you. I will break my rule about no kissing on the
first date, if you will promise me you will not pursue your goal tonight. I would very much
enjoy snuggling with you and—how do you Americans say—petting?” she
said as the waiter left the table with Bob Kelly’s credit
card.
He had not heard that term in years. He knew
what it meant. A lot of kissing and no screwing! He had not spent a
lot of time immersed in that scenario. Not since high school. Could
he promise Kat that he would not try to go farther than just
kissing? Somehow, he thought he could. Besides, he was dying to
kiss this woman! He experienced a warm feeling just thinking about
snuggling with her in front of a roaring fire, and kissing those
sweet lips. Yes, he thought he would like that.
“Petting?” he said with an arched eyebrow.
“That would