Sasha was silent, as if she didn’t understand at all.
“Men like me don’t—” he paused midsentence and rephrased. “Men don’t lie with women because they . . . love them. Men find pleasure in the act. That is all. It is women who find something else.”
He picked up her dress once more, finding the opening and forcing it over her head, keeping his eyes averted as best he could. It bunched around her neck and her arms weren’t in the sleeves, but it covered most of her salient parts. His fingers brushed the place where her shoulder met her throat, and he felt her jerk. She might want to please him, but she was afraid of him too. She began to right her clothing, shoving her arms back into the sleeves and securing the ties at her breasts.
“You and your men, you went to the washwomen yesterday.”
