Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [22]
“How the hell do you find these?” Jack asked.
“Taste, my friend, taste. Gotta keep tryin’.”
Amen to that, Jack thought as a long week drew to a close.
* * *
Nearly a week and a half after the blast, Jack was dreaming of a beautiful blue-eyed Czech woman he’d met at a bar in town, reliving in vivid detail the night they’d spent at her apartment in North Beach.
She was a stunning woman, with the longest legs Jack had ever seen close-up, and when she peeled off her dress, revealing that she had no tan lines whatsoever, he found himself instantly ready for her.
Jack had always been a proponent of the slow build but this woman had no interest in that. Before he could get his pants all the way off, she was reaching for him like a groupie with a rock star, pulling him to her bed, her body trembling, her breathing shallow, and a look in her eyes that said, You can do anything you want to me, but do it now.
Jack did, with fierce intensity as she clutched him to her, her breasts pressed against him, her nails digging into his back, her teeth scraping at his earlobe as she whispered softly to him.
The whispers were quickly replaced by moans that grew louder and more urgent with every passing moment—to the point where Jack thought he might be causing her pain. Finally she cried out, clutching him even tighter as her body stiffened, then shuddered in release. Jack soon followed, then collapsed against her, every nerve ending tingling. Then he rolled away from her and fell against the pillow, trying to catch his breath, and fell asleep.
He was awakened from his dream not by the rising sun but by a tongue licking his face.
Eddie. The eleven-pound bundle of trouble he’d inherited in the divorce.
When Jack realized what was going on he started to laugh. He had originally intended for Rachel to keep the little gray poodle, but after a series of nips, bites, and soiled rugs it turned out that Eddie was even less fond of her than he was and he happily retrieved the two-year-old dog. Ever since then Eddie had slept with Jack, always at his feet. Sometimes the little guy would moan in his sleep, sounding like a child having a bad dream, and Jack would only have to touch him gently with a toe to break the nightmare. Despite any macho posturing to the contrary, he always thought of Eddie as his guardian angel with fur.
Of course, a boat was no real home for an animal—even a ball of fluff not much bigger than a rabbit—but Eddie had adapted remarkably well, if you didn’t count the annoying habit of waking Jack up at six A.M. every morning.
Sure enough, when Jack gave him a scratch behind the ears and glanced at the digital clock next to his bed it read 5:59.
Uncanny.
Jack had to wonder if Tony Antiniori had somehow put the dog up to this. The two had taken to each other like fellow conspirators when they were first introduced, and Tony would often look after Eddie while Jack was working, teaching him little tricks to keep them both entertained. Tony’s father had been a dog handler in World War II, and had a Doberman during the Tarawa Campaign that had saved his life more times than he could remember. Those skills had been passed from father to son, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that Tony was behind this particular stunt.
Tony often protested that Eddie was more trouble than he was worth, but Jack knew this was merely the old guy’s way of proving that he was still a hard-ass. The truth was, they were both completely smitten with the shaggy little poodle, even if neither of them was willing to admit it out loud.
Dragging himself from bed, Jack adjusted the drawstring on his sweats, grabbed some change, then hooked Eddie to a leash and headed for the marina clubhouse. There was a patch of grass set aside specifically for this purpose, and it wasn’t unusual for Jack to find several of his neighbors walking their dogs every morning.
Eddie never failed to bring a smile to their faces.
This morning, however, the area was deserted, and Jack let the dog roam as he looked out at the morning sky and the bobbing