How did he know?
That's the question that's been bouncing around in my mind like a ping-pong ball since Giordan's men stopped me at the door, and like a prisoner, dragged me to this room and locked me in.
How did he know that's exactly what I wanted?
What I needed?
Even I didn't know, and that's the scary thing. But when he took me, threw me down on the couch, and told me to strip for him, it was like he was awakening something I had buried deep down inside of me for so long I had almost forgotten it had existed.
I would have never had the words to know how to ask him for what he gave me. Never have known how to signal to him. But still have gave it to me. It was like he saw right through me, as though my body were made of rice paper and he was able to gaze straight into my soul.
Now
