" What fucking choice?" Carmichael demanded. "Your asses are going to jail for this." Oh, you come in here with five gallons of gasoline and a box ful... of Molotov cocktails, and you think we're going to jail. Not hardly. In case you didn't notice, Idiot, we took a whole bunch of pictures of you two ready to burn her out, not to say anything about killing those two women in that house when you did. But right now, that's not your problem. Your problem is that you've got to make a decision." Fuck. Overall she looked better than I would’ve expected.“Well, take your clothes off silly.” She instructed.I hurriedly yanked my shirt over my head, and pulled my pants and boxers off, throwing them to the floor. I scooted back so I was sitting up, leaning against the headboard. My hands were at my sides, my dick was rock hard, pointing at the ceiling.Mariola walked to the foot of the bed and got on, crawling up to me. She stopped at my dick, still on her hands and knees, she dripped spit on to it,. .. yes... he lives in Chicago and is some kind of big gun with the Airline Pilots Association."He shoved the tape in squealing, "Watch... watch!" He waited and then started moaning when this man dressed in a business suit stood up as the camera moved through the closed door then sat on the edge of his desk and said, "My name is Sean Vandeventer and when I'm not flying this desk for the APA or Airline Pilots Association, I am in a helicopter flying passengers from and to Chicago's Weir Cook. When I slowly closed my eyes and let out a large breath of air, I felt his own sharp exhale of disbelief, and the quick removal of his hands from my face. I already missed his contact. ‘I’ll kill him!’ he hissed, and by the time I opened my eyes to ask what he meant, he was already turned and walking towards the gym doors, his shoulders set in a firm line. ‘Aaron!’ I called after him. I ran to keep up with his long strides. ‘Aaron this is crazy! What do you think you’re going to do?’ I pleaded.