God.” She and I stared for a moment, and then rushed into an intense and nonsexual hug.James Bong told me “She is important to you, and thus to us... You already are emotionally bonded, although you have to update it. With your existing connection, she will quickly accept our mission, the geas, and her eventually growing telempathic ability.“I finished high school early, and entered the undergraduate kinesiology program at the University of Maryland. Basketball and volleyball offered me. "I'm sorry," she said."Don't be sorry, it was my fault," he laughed. "I wasn't watching. I'm the one that should be sorry."She slowed for a moment and looked up at him. He looked no more than thirty, soft brown hair, with the most intense eyes she had ever seen. She forced herself to look away from them, only to notice he was smiling at her. She felt something rub against her fingers, and looked down to see they had both reached for the last item, a can of vegetable soup. The tingling of his. Betsy knew she could handle him as a thirteen year old or as a twenty-three year old because he was so easy to read and willing to let her take the lead in everything they did behind her locked cabin door. She was certain he would remain her complicit tool as she introduced him to her extensive repertoire of feminine wiles and downright nasty need to be properly humiliated.Her brief stint working at the Gentlemen’s Club in Las Vegas was enough to make her ready for any contingency and she knew. "Hey, Rita." Hey, y'self. Wha'up?" Whiskey and quarters." Ha!" she snorts, "the usual."She drops a roll in my hand and I head for the box and start flicking through the cards. I can see you glaring at me from the table. I plunk in some quarters and move back to you."Come on." Now what?" The reason we're here. To dance. Just you and me."I hold out my hand and you come out to me with a touch of reluctance. I shove a few chairs away and take you in my arms as Albert Collins' If Trouble Were Money.
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