He knew that no one would publish his book. The money interests against it were too strong.“How will we do this?”“Hello, Rebecca.”“Peter! I�...�m so glad you called.”“Is something that matter?”“Yes.”“What?”“I’ve been missing you.”“I’ve missed you more.”“No you haven’t. I’ve missed you more.”The conversation remained at that level of depth. Both participants were pleased.Bora Polat was the son of a banker. His father wasn’t just any run of the mill banker. He was a major player in the Ziraat. A serious discussion is about to happen. Do I trust Him not to hurt me? Do I trust Him to take care of both of us? Do I trust Him enough to truly submit? Yes. Did I bring my toys as He requested? Yes. Do I have any more fears about our compatibility? Definitely not. He holds my hands as we talk. And I feel stronger for the contact.It's that contact that keeps me moving as we enter the hotel. His arm around me. His breath against my cheek. We enter the suite quietly. He goes to turn on lights. More

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