. Alex jerked herself out of her reverie, blushing as she felt the unfamiliar moistness between her thighs."George?" she queried, hopefully."I prefer Mr. Smith," he replied.Alex nodded, trying to place his accent. Or maybe it was just his pronunciation of the word 'mister.' It had almost sounded like he had said 'Master Smith.' She shook that thought from her mind and, having found what she assumed was her quarry, launched into a complete explanation, minus the ravishing, of course, of how she had come to be here. She didn't notice in her rush to get out her explanation just how comfortable he made her feel. Nor did she find it strange that she was telling him much more about her life than she had intended. All she knew was that when she looked in his eyes, she felt like she belonged here. She wanted to belong here.The man's name was not George. Or Mr. Smith. His name was Damon Arquette, though few, if any people in this country were aware of his real name. He answered to 'Mr. Smith.'. That’s a trip.”Brenda pulled away and looked up at him. The venom in her gaze was frightening, and he could sense an explosion rising.“Look,” he said, pulling harder on her hips and sliding his hands around to the small of her back. “You were honest with me. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know if I can make you feel like Sheri did or not. It was an intense situation.”The rising explosion was apparently defused. Brenda looked at him for a moment, then looked down, swallowed, and nodded.“Fuck it,” she said huskily. “Let’s try, anyway.”She reached up and grasped his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Her language, here in the church, shocked him so much that he didn’t resist her. Nor did he kiss her back for five…long…seconds. Brenda’s kiss increased in intensity, and finally, he had no choice.They kissed there in the Records Room, naked and clasped together, raging erection pinned between them. They kissed for a long time, with rising intensity, with nibbling, biting,.
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