“No service” appeared where I was used to seeing reception bars. As we rode, Cliff’s hand caressed the inside of my moist naked thigh. His touch...heightened my already sensitive skin and arousal. He teased me with long soft strokes, allowing his fingers to rise to the soft folds of my pussy beneath my skirt. He smiled at the discovery that the humid moisture of my skin was no match for my soaked pussy. He picked up his phone and slid his finger again up the screen, bringing the merciless vibe. God, help me. Was there ever a time that that weak-ass look on his face actually worked on me? The thought was gone as the cab overladen with her troops slid to a stop by her, the door popping open for her. ‘Janey, you can’t just go, without letting me explain,’ he whined. Jane threw the briefcase into the cab, and rounded on him. He took several quick steps back. ‘Okay, fine,’ she said, her voice like ice. Loud ice. People had abandoned the furtive looks at the woman, clearly so angry she. More

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