But as much as I try to focus my attention on the pillar I can't help but feel the presence behind me. The skin on my back tingles like it's electrically charged. The hair on the nape of my neck stands up as I feel the tiniest of air currents shift, and I realize he's smelling me. He must have his face just centimeters away, and all the skin from the nape of my neck to the top of my butt flares into heat, like the sun has moved inside of me. I break out in a sweat, and unconsciously try and shift back to feel his touch, but I can't move. I'm about to groan in frustration when I feel a large hand gently run fingers down my spine the the cleft of my ass. I shudder, and feel wetness between my thighs. My body feels like it's vibrating like a piano string. The hand shifts and gently squeezes my ass. I swear he could palm the whole thing with one hand.This time I do groan, and try again to push back into him. My nipples are hard points that try to cut grooves into the stone. I'm panting. ’ ‘Why?’ she asked, setting her cup aside. ‘Why was it so important to get to him?’ ‘You mean aside from his constantly being a nuisance?’ Oleander replied, stirring his tea. ‘You’re a smart woman, smarter than your husband it would seem. No, his minor trifling in my business is not enough to warrant such drastic measures.’ ‘Then what is it?’ ‘He has something of mine, my dear, and I want it back. I doubt he even knows he has it, but I mean to have it returned.’ ‘I don’t know what it could possibly be. Whatever it was, I would think it would have been with him the night you tried to murder him. It would have been on his person or in his truck.’ ‘Ah,’ Oleander said, placing his teacup on the table between them. ‘You should try one of these biscuits. I have them imported from England daily.’ ‘No!’ said Camille, exasperated. ‘I don’t want a biscuit. I want to know when I can get out of here.’ ‘That, my dear, is entirely up to your husband,’ he said, plucking a cookie from the tray. ‘My.
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