Chapter Thirty-Two
Enjoying America
On his knees by his Goddess’ feet, Alex licked up his last smear of stew. He grabbed the bowl, rose and collected Rachel’s breakfast dishes as well. Her mug was still a bit filled so he left it as he shuffled toward the sink.
“There’s coffee left. Would you like it?”
“Absolutely. The bottom of the pot’s the best part.”
Alex poured it for her. Moving gingerly (beyond his hobbling he was latticed with fresh whip welts), he added the empty pot and other dishes to the pans already soaking. Similarly shiny, his shackles jangled against the stainless steel of the sink as he began to wash up. Despite the chains between his wrists and waist, practice brought an almost nimble efficiency to his necessarily awkward efforts. His beloved sipped at her mug and ap
