over to the doorway.

 

His gaze reached the couple in the bed just as Quentin flipped Davis over on her

back so he was on top. He lifted her feet on top of his shoulders and quickly

finished his business with a loud grunt before collapsing on top of her.

 

So much for romance, thought Rogers.

 

Quentin rolled off her and sat up against the headboard. “Damn, that was good,

babe,” he said. “Wasn’t it?” Davis pulled the blanket up over her and leaned

back next to him. “Yeah,” she said automatically. “It was great,” she added, her

enthusiasm artificially pumped up, at least in Rogers’s mind. “How’s the old

man?” Quentin asked.

 

Rogers tensed. “The same. Enjoying his leisure time.” “I bet.” Quentin leaned

over, opened the drawer of a nightstand, took out a small box, opened it, and

rolled two joints, handing one to Davis. They lit up and both inhaled deeply.

 

He said, “She’s one smart lady. I think I can hold my own, but some days I’m not

sure.” Davis took another puff of the joint and settled back against the

headboard. “Did she get off okay?” he asked. “Jet left a couple hours ago.

She’ll be back soon.” Rogers tensed even more, praying that they would say the

woman’s name.

 

Quentin took another drag on his joint. “Well, it’ll be nice not to have her