Lucy moaned and hitched her back into an arc. She pushed her fingers into his hair. The silk made a rustling noise, not unlike a soft booming of waves... Waves. Michael dipped his fingers into the softness of the green-blue skirt. The smoothness was like touching water. He lifted the yardage by the fistful, the way he had done in the fabric store when he chose it out for her. Up, up went the makeshift skirt, until he came to her wet musk. His tongue lapped at her saline tang. The room spun. They. .. pretty sure. I'll talk to him. Getting him away from the pouch machine would probably be a good idea right now."In fact, Wick was fine with getting away and helping a customer. A short while later, I had a call back from Fiona."That was quick," I said. "Grant's okay with us getting involved?" More than okay. He was beginning to think it wasn't going to get solved. He'll take any help he can get. What about Wick?" I was right. It'll be a relief to get off the pouch machine for a while. You. More

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