Chapter 12
Dr. Paul Stone III returned to his office before three-thirty, although he hardly noticed the time. He hardly noticed anything around him. He whirled dizzily, crazily in his own world, caught up in a floating fantasy that moved with him.
Joan Cushing had broken something in him. A previously undiscovered vein-an insatiable lust for young flesh that became increasingly inflamed as he thought of Joan's body, submitting-and of his own inexplicable feelings of tenderness afterward. But the tenderness had not lasted more than several moments. Almost as soon as he had been out in the street, walking toward his car, the choking desire had returned within him.
Our man Paul was a veritable lion in the streets.
He was a lion who couldn't explain himself. It didn't even occur to him th
