Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, draping over a skimpy purple tank top and tiny black shorts that barely cover her ample rear. Her pale leg... swing back and forth as she writes, humming to the tune blasting in her earbuds with her thick glasses balanced precariously on her nose. Danny shuts the door silently and crosses the room, beyond tempted by her body. He rolls up the sleeves on his black button up shirt before reaching over the sofa arm, stroking her legs.Meg jumps and looks. “He drew all of these.” I gestured around myself. It was true; at my insistence, our sitting room was full of my husband’s artwork – pictures of friends and loves ones, but also scenery, weapons ... whatever caught his fancy.I didn’t display most of the ones he’d done of me, for obvious reasons.Fiona stood and walked around the room, examining the drawings with something that looked like awe. “Will you tell me about him?”I laughed. “I’m probably biased.” She shot me an amused glance, and I. More

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