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’ ‘It’s okay son. And do I get a discount?’ Bob didn’t get a discount but he did get a full tank of gas and a gold keychain. The green duffle bag was thrown behind the driver’s seat containing enough funds to keep him on the road for some time. Leroy’s gun was hidden below several bundles of greenbacks. Once out of Manhattan, Bob headed for Philadelphia, his Map Quest printout that came from the public library, on the seat beside him. He’d left Philadelphia behind eight hours ago and was now somewhere on I 80 in northern Ohio. He hoped to sleep somewhere around Chicago. Bob still couldn’t figure out how she’d done it. He knew it was her. He’d had a chance to glance over the paperwork the Fed’s left on the table in front of him while waiting on his lawyer and there it was, Tammy Spalding, Akron bank IT. He still wondered why she hadn’t just come to him and asked for a share. There was more than enough to go around. Why did she have to go and rat on him? It had all been Shelly’s idea.. She wants their touch. She does not protest the placement of the sheet. His hands continue their work. Flesh, hands, sensation, pleasure. From him, through her, returning to him. She is floating. She is warm. She breathes. There is a new sensation. Cool. He has moved her leg. This was agreed upon. This follows the rules. But the coolness. The sheet should shield her from the cool. The sheet. The sheet is not where it is supposed to be. Cool between her legs. She is exposed. Truly naked now. Her eyes are closed. She does not see.His eyes are open. There is no way he does not see what is there. Moist. Glistening. So. The rules fade. They are replaced with something more instinctual. And with that instinct comes an almost irresistible pull. Sensation. Promise. Pleasure. She is female. She is prone. She is passive. She needs to be touched. She is patient. He is male. He is active. He is leading. He needs to touch. His hands decide. There is a caress. Between her legs. Only one. Just.
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