She had just had a shower and was sitting on the bed with the remote control in one hand and a plate of rice crackers in the other, staring at the screen. Her skin was pale, barely distinguishable from the white silk sheets, so her black hair, dark-brown eyes, and plump, deep-red lips stood out all the more. Her bathrobe was a little askew. Tang could see the edge of an almost-pink nipple, and the sight aroused him so much in that instant that he lay down on the bed with her. She must have sensed his arousal, and clearly saw it as her duty to fan it and to give herself to him. She put the rice crackers and the remote control aside, leaned over him, and started unbuttoning his shirt. She trailed the tips of her fingers over his chest and unbuckled his belt. Before long, Victor Tang was lying half naked on the bed, with Anyi sitting astride him. She moved her hips rhythmically up and down, and he massaged her small, firm breasts with both hands, thinking about the Owens and Paul Leibovitz and wondering what his role was in all of this.
