Chapter Eight
She was meeting me at eight o’clock in the bar of a cafe just down the street from my studio. Swept inside by a bitter evening, I was surprised to see Savannah sitting by the warming fireplace with her coat still on, a slick, sly smile on her lips. Two brandy sifters sat on the table waiting for us.
“What’s that sassy look for?” I asked her.
“You have your camera ready?” she asked.
“I didn’t bring it with me if that’s what you’re asking.”
She pouted. “Too bad. I thought you might want to get a shot of this.” She opened her coat a button at a time. The last one undone, I could see that she was naked underneath except for a garter belt and lacy black stockings.
“Hmm. I’m surprised your p***y didn’t freeze off,” I said, chuckling. I sat down opposite her.
“It was a
