It was mussed, as if nervous hands had been running through it. His eyes were a piercing gray, clouded with so many emotions that Sandra could not nam... them all.He reached out one wide-palmed hand to cup her cheek, and her breath fluttered against his wrist. "Sandra?" he asked, his rich voice even more so in person, vanishing the bones from her knees.She could only nod. His hand slid down her arm and his sturdy fingers, belonging more to a blue collar than the business-minded suit he was,. Her jeans were far to loose at herwaist and needed a very tight belt there to keep from flapping around,but they also had too little fabric to get around her hips and ass, andtoo much fabric bunched up at her crotch in a way it seemed obviousthere was no use for it and there was something too flat beneath forwhat they were built for. Dave tried her best to brush her hair so itlooked a little less like a rat's nest, and headed downstairs forbreakfast.Sandra was irrationally angry when she first. More

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