|
|
|
|
|
|
|
what the old man wanted, instead of making a big goddamn deal out of the fact that you were being inconvenienced." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Who cares what you like?" she fumed. "All you would have had to do was listen" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was his turn to cut her off. "Look, can I help it if your picture has been plastered all over the front page of every goddamn supermarket rag in the country in the last two months?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
That was all it took, and Charlie knew it. Kristen wasn't built for this kind of fighting. She had her own way of handling conflict. A shout, a threat of violence, a heated exchange was all it took. The former wife of Martin Masters handled the situation the only way she knew how. For her the battle was over. The ice thawed, and the heat cycle began. She reached out and pulled him to her encircling her arms around his neck, pressing her long slender body against him in the way all women understand all men want them to respond. She pressed her lips against his while one arm disengaged itself, slipped between them and began unbuttoning her blouse. It didn't stop until she had opened the blouse and pressed the fullness of her nakedness against him. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Touch me," she demanded. "Touch me . . . now!" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Charlie started to comply, because that was |
|
|
|
|
|