Jenny was too humiliated to run after them.She stood there, not knowing whether to continue or wait for a command. The men's shirt covered her to her ...highs, but was open in front. Jenny crossed her hands self-consciously for cover.Marcel's glaring eyes and the devastating stares from the other men told her she could not hold on for long. Reluctantly, she arched her back and slid the shirt off of her. She brought it around in front of her, trying desperately to shield herself. Marcel held out. The tiny black streaks pointing toward her pupil. The fleck of golden candle light reflected in her eye as she looked at me—loved me.Lissa’s shoulders were elegant and powerful at the same time. I’d watched her in matches with other players at the club and you can’t put that much English on a ball unless you have both power and control. To see her muscles move in her shoulders and upper arms is like watching a dance with an entire ensemble supporting the prima ballerina. But to see those. More

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