CHAPTER EIGHT
Ward arrived bright and early at North Island, a broad smile on his face, a light tune on his lips. And he had good cause to be happy. What a weekend he'd had: almost a full blow-job from that wench Barbara and an amazing night of love with the wife of the doctor he was working for. And as if that wasn't enough, he had gotten the husband's permission!
"Hello, Sarah my darling," he said, slapping her on the butt as he met her in the hall. "How did Saturday night go after I left?"
"Smooth, Ward, smooth."
"Miss me?"
"A little."
"I bet."
"No, I did miss you a little."
"There's something playing about your lips that smacks of hanky-panky."
"It shows? I thought I'd washed it all off."
"Come on, tell me what you did."
"You don't sound mad."
"I'm not. Why should I be? Did
