As far as you’ll let me. Anything. Everything. Emma studied her face in the bathroom mirror, pleased with the outcome of her speedy freshen-up. Then she dabbed some perfume behind each ear and between her breasts, the finishing touch. The door to Brody’s room closed and she froze. The handcuff delivery. Would he come to her now? Would he wait for her to go to him? Could she share her deepest desire with him? Would he honor her request? Emma’s heart sped up. She stood there, listening. Waiting. Only the hum of the air conditioner met her ears. She relaxed a smidgen, stepping back to evaluate her full reflection, to see what Brody would see when he looked at her. “A trashy slut, that’s what he’ll see,” she told herself, disgusted, a trashy slut in an azure-blue elastic lace, fat-ass-hugging negligee with an indecently deep V that dipped too far below her cleavage.
