But then he pulled his hand back quickly and asked if it was alright if he touched me.I thought that was strange. He has probably been in this situati...n with a dozen young women. He should be feeling much more comfortable than I am. He knows that I've agreed to be a virtual sex slave to him and his vice presidents for the foreseeable future. I didn't understand his hesitation. Perhaps it's generational. Or maybe he's just a very nice man.I reached for his hand, feeling almost like I'm the one. .. twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty...” She expected them to stop, then. She couldn’t take another ten. Thirty-one surprised her. There was a long pause. Karen said, “Don’t make me give you extras. Count.” “Thirty-one.” Counting one had to mean another was coming. Karen didn’t let up. He wouldn’t want that. Thirty-two was wicked, low and mean. She cried out, then remembered to count. “Thirty-two.” She was sputtering now, her nose running, crying hard. Thirty-three was a bit higher, but. But Arthur had badly underestimated how quickly and thoroughly Ainsley could get her hooks into an impressionable young man. She’d wriggled out of Arthur’s trap, gotten herself named Nick’s in-house counsel, and done everything she could to poison Nick and Arthur’s working relationship since then.She’d been damned effective at it, too. Shortly after Ainsley had stopped fucking Arthur and started fucking Nick, the first round of asset transfer requests had come in. Those were to be expected. The. The old truck came to a sliding halt in the loose gravel of the 'ole river road.' In his anger, Hank's foot still had the brake pressed hard to the floor. Raising the bottle to his lips, he leaned his head back and finished off the last couple of swallows. Then with one hand holding the empty beer bottle, Hank leaned forward, resting his arms on the steering wheel.As he looked out at the small stream he couldn't help but ponder, 'Why do they call it a river? It's not over three or four feet.