Except for that occasional annoying whir of the projector. Instead, he took her wrist in his hand and walked past her, turning her as he went. It was like a distant rumble of thunder heard from over the horizon on a clear, sunny day. They both heard it. Chelsea’s eyes widened. This was very bad. “Take off your blouse,” was all he said. That had been only the beginning of the most intellectually, emotionally and (of course) sexually fulfilling relationship Chelsea had ever experienced. David must have been listening for the sound because an instant later he began swatting Chelsea’s behind again. But each time she’d told herself that she was being ridiculous, that seeing him again would prove that his effect on her had just been the result of a passing mood. This is really bad. And she had pointedly ignored the insistent whirring of the projector in the back of her mind while waiting for the hours to pass.
