Chapter Twenty Eight
Face Saving
“…What could have possessed you to do such a thing, Anya?” Bernard Lambert thundered at her as she stood before him in his study; dressed casually in jeans and tee shirt, her feet bare.
Waving the envelope in front of her, his anger was stoked rather than tempered by the desires instilled in him by her gift and the shameless way he had succumbed to them.
His earlier thoughts of religious tolerance holding sway only until he had pumped his seed into the soft pink cotton wrapped around the head of his overworked p***s.
Only afterwards, need satisfied, did the ramifications of what her gift meant for their future working relationship did he convince himself that a reprimand for her temerity in making him that gift was in order.
Now, some two hours after
