If the bullet that killedhim was from the hasty shot fired by the gunman that Mitch hit with hisimprovised missile it would have entered him traveling...at an upwardangle. That would have changed the direction in which his body traveledas it fell. He would have fallen to the left of the shelving and hewould have struck the far door of the cold case rather than the onedirectly behind him. The angles of impact say that the only way thatdetective Brighton could have fallen the way he did was if. Beauty, brains, the ability to control him with subtlety, and an ass that made his mouth water. His mind couldn't even makes sense of the fact that he was in this strange apartment, waiting rather impatiently for a women he didn't know, for exactly what, he wasn't sure.Emerging from her bedroom dressed in tight, leather, black pants, a corset that looked like she might have had two or three people in her bedroom helping her tie it so tightly, high-heeled, black patent leather boots that came up. Larson. He started to ask, as the ladies were being seated, but as he spoke, the Maître de reached across, picked up the note and crumpled it in his fist. It just became another question in Chris' mind about the entire weekend.As they had the night before, after dinner Chris and Cathy danced to the music of the small dance band but tonight, Cathy and Melissa alternated, each woman immersing herself in the moment, each woman becoming an attachment to Chris as he moved through the floor. It was. Uh, sogood! . . . put your tongue in further! . . . oh, faster!. . . faster! . . . Rollie! . . . how nice . . . you suckand tongue-fuck me so nicely! . . . Ah-h-h-ooo-ah-h-uh-h!"God damn, but it was good! Gee-zoo, but I lovedit so! Since he knew that my climax was approach-ing he began to tickle my ass-hole with his finger andwork his dagger with more zeal. I again began to hughim with my legs . . . firmer and firmer as the spendneared. Boy, it was getting good!The flood gates of love at last.