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“Forgot, my ass,” Stone said.
“Well, as long as you’re up, want some news?”
“If you insist,” Stone sighed, struggling to prop himself up with a pillow, in spite of the weight of Charlene’s arm.
“I’ve had chats with a couple of people who are acquainted with Rex Champion’s situation,” Eggers said.
“Which is?”
“Depends on whom you believe. One of them says that Rex is flush with cash, but is old and tired and wants out; the other says he has bad cash-flow problems and that the stables are losing money hand over fist.”
“And which one do you believe?”
“I’m stumped,” Eggers said.
“You’re a big help, Bill. You want to call me back when you have some indication of which way the truth lies?”
“Okay, go back to sleep.” Eggers hung up.
Stone put down his phone and suddenly realized that Charlene’s hand had migrated to his crotch. She gave a little squeeze.
“Oh,” she said, “nice response.”
“What did you expect?” Stone asked. He made to get out of bed, but she held on tightly.
“You appear to have me by the…”
“Yes, I do, don’t I?”
“Charlene, I’m going to be here for at least a week; do you want to kill me the first day?”
“I know you better than that, Stone,” she said, hoisting herself astride of him and slipping him inside her.
“I can’t deny that,” Stone said, “any more than I can extricate myself from your clutches.”
She tightened a few muscles and accentuated the clutch.
“How do you do that?” Stone asked, breathing faster.
“Practice,” she said, doing it again.
They continued in that fashion until they both came noisily. She gave him a wet kiss, then rolled off him.
“I still can’t seem to move,” Stone said, “but for entirely different reasons than before.”
“Then I’ll move first,” she said, getting out of bed and padding, naked, toward the bathroom.
Stone watched the body that had graced dozens of movies float across the room. He was either a very lucky man or doomed-he wasn’t sure which. He waited impatiently for her to get into the shower, then ran into the bathroom and, with a sigh of relief, let go.
“Join me?” she called from the shower.
He looked over at the half-misted glass door and watched for a moment. “Oh, what the hell,” he said, flushing, then opening the door and stepping in.
“Scrub my back?” she asked, handing him a brush.
He scrubbed her back.
“I’ll do yours, too,” she said, turning and reaching around him, pressing her body against his.
