I was getting myself sexually worked up watching my man build up a healthy sweat rubbing leather. He should be rubbing me.I was rubbing myself against...the chassis through my thin, delicate summery dress. Andy was leaning over the back seat checking something on the rolled back convertible hood. Talk about an obsessive eye for the smallest detail.My smallest detail was fully aroused, my flimsy panties were moist, and my clit was swollen. Well I had my fingers under my dress. The gear under my. . Spirits ... I knew. With all of them occupied, I began to think what I was sensing was, I was lonely.Valerie, Marilyn and Stacey. As I wondered how soon another transplant might be arranged another thought came to mind. Stacey had said that I could visit her anytime. I just had to visualize ... think ... what she had sent to me and -- POOF -- I’d be there. OK, she didn’t say poof, but I got the picture.“Picture! Get it,” shifted through my mind. Now I was making jokes to amuse myself. “Get a. I looked hot. When we showed up to the club, L’Amour Chaud, I was so ready to forget about Jake, that I almost didn’t notice him until he was right in front of us, and it was too late. Standing outside the club, looking sexy as ever in dark jeans, a black button-up shirt, and red Converse, was the most dangerous man I had ever dated. Not dangerous in the criminal way, but dangerous in the way that made me throw all my inhibitions and morals out the window. “Hello, Taylor,” he said, his cocky. “Very well,” Verenestra nodded. “I’ll leave her in your hands, John. Though this will not change her current sentencing terms on Jingol.”“She knows this, Queen Verenestra,” I replied. “She’s simply doing it because it gives her satisfaction and is different from the life she had or lives now,” I replied.“Besides, she’s well aware that if she leaves Jingol, she’ll likely be killed,” Roxanne added.“That’s true enough,” Verenestra acceded. “She’s far safer amongst the Dökkálfar.”“We’ll be standing.