‘Vin. Just kill me. Okay? Stop trying to kill me and kill me.’ His hands were starting to roam over her body, both hands whispering over her waist...before settling on her breasts, cradling them and stroking through the fabric of her shirt. ‘Not yet, honey, I’m not sure you’re sober. How many fingers am I holding up?’ Her head tilts back and her laughter is strained and spiced with hunger. ‘Vin, that’s ALL of them. Did you grow an extra hand?’ Moving deliberately, he twists her hair in his hand,. She looked at her familiar face and donned the long black wig she had taken a fancy to in the past year. The fact that it made her feel adventurous and a little naughty was not an unpleasant feeling at all.Misty thought back to her interview with the senior partner, Mr. Weinstein in his office suite on the top floor of the firm's upscale office building. She always felt comfortable in the company of older men so she was not in the least bit nervous even when the older man looked at her with his. More

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