She came into his office like a tropical breeze on a warm, sandy beach. The steam radiator let off a whistle by the open window. She smiled, “Who’s the fresh one here, you or the radiator? I haven’t gotten that treatment in years.” Hammer put the shot glass into the open drawer behind the desk.
The black satin shift that hugged her could not have had a better occupant. He moved like a panther from behind the desk. His hand slide around the back of her neck, under her soft dark hair. They kissed hard.
J. B. Fletcher 2010