She sat the book between the two off us. I put my hand on the spine of the book, and she laid her hand atop mine. With her forefinger and middle finge... she stroked the backside of my hand. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, I knew I was blushing, but I could tell she couldn't see it in the dimly lit room. I helped her up and she sat on my lap, her legs drapped across myself and the length of the couch. We kissed heavily, lips and tongue entwining, lost in the moment of lusty passion. As. Apparently, Cathy kept the secret. "I shot and killed a man," I said. "Involuntary manslaughter was the charge. But the motherfucker deserved it." That was the first time I had ever spoken a cuss word around my daughter. I was still giving her the choice to back out. She could have, at any moment, got up and left the room and the whole thing would be forgotten. But she kept passing these little tests I kept giving her. "Your mama ran off just after I was sentenced. She took you to Vegas right. More

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