She’d fidgeted the first twenty minutes of class until he slipped his hand under the table and grasped her bouncing leg. He kept his hand there for the next two hours and forty minutes. Touching her seemed to be the only thing to keep her from flipping her wig. All he wanted to do was slide his hand up, and that made those two hours and forty minutes torture while he tried to readjust his prick with no one the wiser. At the end of the class Keri looked like she was on the verge of rambling and probably confessing they weren’t a real couple. Well-wishers on their marriage littered the walkway since most of the sessions had let out at the same time. If he hadn’t forced reform down his throat, he may have continued to make a life out of crime. But Keri should stay far, far away from it. She shouldn’t even flirt with the idea of breaking a single law if this was how she devolved afterward. He grabbed hold of her elbow, excused them and pulled her into the nearest stairway. The door clicked soundly behind them and the noise level from the convention echoed off the empty staircase.
