He placed it in the tray along with her other weapons.He skirted her ample chest, the ambassador seeming to take pleasure in his discomfort, and then ...an his hands down her torso. Beneath her leather jacket, she wore a tight-fitting tank top, her chiseled abdominal muscles visible even beneath the grey fabric. He ran his fingers over them as he moved down to her waist, finding them as hard as stone, her taut muscles flexing as he brushed them.Her shirt stopped a few inches above her belt, her. .sherbet dips…lucky bags’ The candied litany squeaked from her like an advertisement. Although her mummy had taught her many words, she only recognized them in context, large rounded typeface in the comfortable pages of her storybooks, the words on the sweetie jars were formal and upright and meant nothing to her. The little boy was far more interested in what he could see from his lowest of vantage points, barely over the display counter, through the jars of coloured sweets, he could see his. More

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