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I picked up the house phone and dialed her cell number..“Hello” her voice was cheerful.I said almost panicked. “Hi Sharon, I think I left my pho...e and wallet in my pants pocket.”She said “oh goodness, I’ll call the cleaners and tell them to put them in a bag and keep it with your cloths. I trust them to not steal anything from you.”I said “okay, where did you put my duffle bag?”She suddenly said “oh my gosh I forgot to get your bag from the trunk.”My heart sank. “What do I wear?”She said after. He picked her up, she tried kicking him in his groin with her right foot, but it was hard since she wasn't facing him. He found her room and threw her onto the bed and kicked the door shut. She looked up at him incredulously, not quite believing this was the same gentle man from before."Look, if it's money you want. I have a little in the top drawer over there. Take it and leave. I won't call the cops. I have some good jewelry, too. you can have it. It must be worth something." she said, trying. Her straight, mouse-brown hair, coke-bottle glasses (now much thinner, thanks to polycarbonate lenses!), and modest clothing gave the impression of a polite, utterly restrained young woman and her demeanor around strangers and co-workers certainly told the same tale. She was smart, and imaginative, and utterly straight-laced. Or so they thought ... if only they knew.When Susanna was younger she liked to play out little scenes in her imagination. Mostly they were the kinds of things every girl. The amber-green liquid of her overpowering eyes as she pushed his hand down. His fingers sliding onto her soft, smooth body heat. Something pure and stained. I wanted you to like it. To like me. It was like a song that gets in your head and you can’t get it out. He brought his fingers to his face and inhaled. He could only imagine her scent as his senses filled with Jasmine. He leaned out and craned his head toward the window on the left. Hers. Behind him was the door between their rooms. He.
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