Emma's hands wander down to his jeans, flashing him a little grin as she unfastens the buttons he'd done up moments before. She wants to make him wait...a little longer, so sliding up a little, she runs her nails along his sides, using a kind of pressure that's not enough to hurt or light enough to tickle. It's the kind of touch she loves to deliver, the kind that will not leave not leave a mark upon his skin but he'll feel tingles and a rush of heat there any time he thinks of her today. She. Once we was in the room he closed the door behind us. There was a table in the middle with chairs around it and a desk at the end of the room. There was two other guys in there. A slim smartly dressed guy in his 30s sitting on the desk looking at his phone and another quite muscular man sitting on the table talking to him. They both looked at us as we walked in and the smartly dressed man asked "whats going on" the big fella that brought me in sighed and told him "ive got reason to believe this. More

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