“Spread your legs for me, beautiful girl,” he says, his voice like a thunderstorm, his pupils wide. Slow, I scoot down in the chair to more easily spread my legs as wide as they can go. His unwavering eyes watch my every move with such scrutiny I’m unintentionally tensed and praying I’ve done a good enough job to hear him tell me so. I’m rewarded with the slight uptick of his lips and his next words.
