Or maybe it was their skin. A leg, perfect enough for the catwalks of Paris, stepped though the wall, the surface rippling behind it like oil. Mike no...iced she was wearing a stylish stiletto-heeled shoe. He couldn't determine where the shoe ended and the flesh of her leg began.The two women stepped fully into the room. They wore outfits that were little more than a complex tangle of studded belts. It was hard to determine where flesh ended and clothes began. Part of the substance of the wall. .. ?" Eat and run, darling. I-I can't wait any longer, either... !"Jay Durke was fumbling behind Stan Wilson's plush little bar like a clumsy gorilla in a mental fog. He still couldn't really believe the way events had smoothly shaped the promising evening before him! Christ, that's what the luscious little doll had said, "... And later... well, who knows what, later... !" Shit, she'd said it all right, "You make the martinis and I'll cook the steaks..." Goddamn... kissing him the way she. More

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