”“Dad, we’ve already fucked. That’s done. Nowhere to go but forward,” she calmly said. “This really feels creepy and if you touch me I’l... probably scream.”“I understand,” I said nodding. She wrapped her blanket around herself a little more tightly. “So, we’re not the Waltons ... I really have nothing else to say, except please do not do this to me again.”“You’re not running screaming from the room, either,” I said, feeling equally odd. “Okay, fine. Stacy Childers, current settings.”Calmness. Marissa’s words echoed through me and smothered my joy, even though I should have been living in the moment.For several long moments, I posed and danced for him. With my exterior, I showed him the youthful vivaciousness that he asked for; inside I feared his commands came from a place far deeper than his professional eye. 'Was Marissa right?' Part of me wanted this, but not in the way his wife had described it. John smiled broadly and all the while continued snapping pictures as if they had. More

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