He was barely skilled, a desk jockey; his position as “security” was laughable. I would linger with your friend, but there is much to do at home.” Her sultry gaze left little doubt of her intent as she leaned forward to nuzzle his ear playfully. The pilot had been by all means satisfactory – in terms of stamina and grace, nothing was left wanting, and his golden fur and bright green eyes were certainly striking. In the background the drumming played with a low throb. He looked down at the table, feeling oddly ashamed. “SQUALLINGS AND BITINGS! Con blushed deeper. With a resigned sigh, she moved out to the work room, feeling the rich pile of the woven rugs caress the pads of her feet. She had managed to carve herself a career in a risky and demanding field, and had grown rich doing it. It should wear off with time.
