Chapter THREE
"Is that better?" Denise asked. She stood in front of Paul King like a schoolgirl before her teacher.
"Much better," he complimented. "But try it once more - from across the room."
"I can't. I'm exhausted. Six hours' practice today - five yesterday, then studying all your notes - no more today, please."
"Once more," he insisted.
Denise looked at him, then shook her head resignedly. She turned and walked to the far end of his apartment living room. Then she walked toward where he waited on a maple love-bench. Her movement was sensual and gliding with a certain breathless anticipation to it. Her hips undulated pronouncedly beneath the new skin-tight stretch pants, and her breasts, although held by an expensive bra beneath a white blouse, insisted upon movement, too, convey
