Chapter Seven
At the Restaurant
As Rachel sprawled there exposed in her professor’s luxurious automobile, breathless, sweaty and achingly unfulfilled, Mrs. McEvers slid smoothly out, closed her door, and came around to open Rachel’s side. The girl reached hurriedly to pull up the delicate straps of her little dress, but the older woman’s eyes flashed. “No one told you to do that!” snapped the fleshy, well-groomed lady. Her once-gentle voice was suddenly hard once more.
Swallowing in her shamed discomfort, Rachel could only blink uncertainly up at the overbearing figure towering above her in the glare of the midday sky.
“Stand up,” said Mrs. McEvers, smiling cruelly.
“B-b-but—” sputtered the bare-breasted girl.
“I said stand up, w***e!” The woman’s face was flushed, her eyes dangerou
