“I know,” I said, trying not to be distracted from the conversation. After all, they were talking about my novel. “I could use your picture on t...e cover. The beautiful naked body floating in the pool.”“As if I would get naked for you to take my picture,” she sniffed.“What are the odds?” Nils asked. Nils and Helene were an odd couple from The Netherlands. He was in his mid to late forties, pale white with sandy hair. She was in her mid-twenties, dark as night, and still spoke with a Jamaican. Most of them were festooned with sponsorship decals. We had to wait.We pulled up to the gate ... Alan again.“Dave,” he said, “Track’s closed.”“I want in Abby’s garage.”“Let me check,” Alan got on his phone, spoke to it and disconnected.“Have at it.”The Pits and garage area was a storm of noise ... engines altitude tuning and hammers and cursing ... thuds, metal screeches, groans and such. I was amazed that anyone could communicate.Number Thirteen. I took out a ring of keys ... found the right. Quiet laughter trickled out from his mouth. ‘Slow down, sweet. It’s not Survivor,’ he said. ‘We still have time.’ Clothes went flying, boots hit the floor. Two bodies entwined, rolling over on the tangled sheets, striving for domination. He won. Pinning me to the bed with his body nestled between my thighs, he raised his upper body and looked down into my flushed face. Panting, he slowly lowered his mouth to my nipple, carefully laving it with the flat of his tongue. He raised his head again. The blindfold has plunged me into complete darkness and the music playing in the room causes me to not be able to hear anything. My other senses are alive and are overly active. I think I can smell scents in the air and feel sensations against my body. Most of all, my mind is racing. I am trying to listen for any sound above the music to determine if you are in the room or not. Trying to find the slightest hint as to what you are going to do to me. I am thinking about what we have done in the.
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