“What kind of outfit is that supposed to be?”
“You like it?” This was not the normal take charge Harry speaking. The one that would throw her to the floor without thinking, or slap her face, or demand the slavish subservience he wanted from her. He left the air between them longing, waiting for the bombs to land and the artillery to arrive. What was keeping them, Jessica wondered – making small talk about her sexy robe?
Harry sensed her quandary and chuckled under his breath. Then he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one. He knew how much she hated him smoking in her rooms, no doubt the reason he made a point of lighting up. “You want me to slap you down, don’t you?” He took a long drag and looked around for an ashtray, which he wouldn’t find.
“Well, the thought
