They were at it for hours, assuming different poses, each one involving him having his hands on her in some way or another.
The last straw was when he sat on the horse behind her with his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, just under her breast, and his face in her neck as if kissing her there.
Throughout, she'd been sending me furtive glances, none of them bearing fear but a slight unease at me seeing her in these compromising positions. Again it was just her natural inhibitions at play.
But she should've been very afraid. It's her job, Callan. I warned myself even as they called a halt for the day, but nothing would assuage the deep fury that burned in my blood just beneath the surface.
“We're in a bit of a rush. Can she bring this back tomorrow?" The photographer, knowing exac
