“Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. It was a castoff of Shari’s from her brief obsession with sewing. “I wish. ” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely.
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