“Hold her hands,” he nodded to the stranger at his left, and the man proceeded to the other side of the post, and grabbed for my hands. He pulled my torso tightly to the wood and with a steel-tight grip held fast. I turned my gaze to his placid face, now bereft of the mirth that had for a moment lightened this sticky situation. He didn’t have the polished sexy class of my blueblood husband, but he held his own when it came to s****l allure. His face was firm, meaningful, his sandy hair a little curly, but groomed well. He was of average build, likely as strong as most men his age, although there was nothing physically remarkable about him that I found immediately appealing. I think it was more the presence of unfailing calm he exuded that was so conspicuous. It made me feel safe when I fea
