Her hands were weak on my chest. I kissed her harder, and moved my hands up her dress. "Stop." I bit her lip and stroked the outside of her panties. S...e was wet. I never wanted anything in my entire life as much as I wanted her in that moment.She grabbed my hand and tried to move it away, trying to push my body off of hers. She had no chance, she was no more than 120 pounds and I was nearly a foot taller than her. "Please," she said, her voice weak. I looked into her eyes, and they were. I need to get some other people involved. We need to get to the bottom of this — then the bastard will get his due."While Diana and Jeff ate their late lunch, Doctor Ingles sat in his home office, glass in hand, his feet propped on his desk, a two-thirds full bottle of single malt, ten-year-old bourbon nearby. He was exhausted.I thought the bitch would surely head straight for Saint Louis. Shit, I still can't believe she broke her conditioning. She shouldn't have been capable of that.The day. More

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