Roundabout, but the game.
"Hi, Lee. It didn't take three minutes; it took two and a half."
"You timed it?" he asked with a grin. Funny, how he could grin even while feeling a heavy, depressing weight in the bottom of his stomach.
"I sure did. Come on, let's have a drink. Are you hungry?"
"You did mention the word lunch, I believe."
"I didn't mean that kind of hungry, Lee. And I didn't mean meat and potatoes before ... you know what I mean." If he'd had any doubts, she was doing a marvelous job of dispelling them, shaking that precious butt of hers. And it was precious. Preciously shaped, precious, he felt certain, to hold onto in that hurricane frenzy of lovemaking.
She was wearing tightly clinging leather slacks, $65.00 at Anita Ames' little store in the village, loose but revealing
