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Then she leaned her head towards my shoulder and said:- It really is peaceful and beautiful here.I shifted the bottle to my left hand and put my free arm around her and I could feel how wonderful her hair smelled. She took my hand and explored it with hers.- You seem to have strong hands, maybe you can do something for me? she asked.- Sure, what do you wanted me to do? I replied.- Well, my neck and back feel a little stiff from the long car ride we had to get here. Can you massage them for me? - --- Please, she said and looked up on me.There was no way I was gonna say now to let my hands explore her body even if it was just her neck and back. But I wanted to play it cool so I took a few zips of wine before I said:-Sure.She smiled, took the bottle from me and refilled her cup. She then put them down, turned around on her knees and pulled her top over her head. She then put down the top and lied down on it. As she wasn't wearing any bra I noticed that she had small but really beautiful. Almost certain its no coincidence she’s being so severely treated, the doubts in her mind, the thoughts of just how much he knows, it’s got to be the vacation, her few moments of indiscretions along with her friend’s urgings. But, how can he know? The silence, the long wait building as the pain finally subsides to a constant, more manageable ache throughout her body, she realizes there’s no adjusting to relieve the discomfort of her arched position. Trying to think, to formulate some sort of plan, to be able to answer whatever he’s at some point going to be asking her about, or even accusing her of, she can only wait, listen to her own pulsing heartbeat, her rasping breath, the stretching of the tape as she awkwardly shifts, stares toward the door. Then, once more the slow footsteps, the shadow beneath the door, the knob turning. Again her heart pounding, crusting eyes widening, she stares toward his form entering the room. His demeanor unchanged, his stare a harsh.
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