On the Line

"My mother is probably angry."

Moreau added when she knew there would be no hope. There was no way Abihirt would add an answer after the past time. The man simply stood still, towering over her, while bearing the weight of the body that still rested on that sturdy back.

"Your mother will not be angry."

It was good to hear that phrase if it was true. Occasionally Moreau would deliberately inhale the masculine scent in the hollow of Abihirt's neck. She did not know if her stepfather was aware of such actions. Probably not, or if the man was just trying not to be affected by whatever she was doing.

"You know what my mother does at this hour, that's why you can say that."

Moreau's whisper sounded fatal at the moment she had to say each sentence softly. Not wanting to draw the attention of several people to stare back at her. They shouldn't be the center of attention, just because of the way Abihirt handled the act of caring like an affectionate lover, but t