But the euphoria of the sexual haze drifting all around her was sweeping her into a blissful peace she really enjoyed. Her mind was freeing itself, devoid of questions, of anxiety and fear. She wanted to drown in the erotic blankness. She would have, too, had she not smelled him. His dominant, fiercely sexy scent—a combination of dust, sweat and intensity—tensed every fiber inside her into live wires of sexual awareness and intoxicating need. A split second later, she snapped her eyes open and found a shadowy figure fiddling quietly with the padlock of the cage door. She’d studied his silhouette enough during the day to recognize his powerful build, and she couldn’t stop the sensual gasp whispering past her lips as her body hummed with erotic alertness for him. “Not a sound,” he whispered. Suddenly her senses returned. He was breaking her out! Gosh! Had he been watching her masturbate? Oh man, how embarrassing! Blushing profusely at her disarrayed attire, she rushed to get her skirt back on and her top in place.
