I stopped going to the bar after a week. Instead, I drank at home, burying the memory of those two kisses and those three words. At least, I tried to....Day ten: a knock at the door. I looked out the spyhole - fat lot of use that was. It's so greasy you wouldn't see anything if it held up a neon sign. Opening doors to strangers in Moscow isn't particularly wise, but I was drunk and lonely. It was Rose. My brain scrabbled in vain through the alcohol fog to find words, failed, and offered a. “Those are so damn cute,” he said, running his hands lightly over her body. “But I’m afraid they have to go.” She held her breath as he hooked his fingers into the hem and slowly drew them down. She could hardly believe she was lying, completely exposed, on a couch with a guy she’d just met. He watched her eyes as he stroked her stomach and her hips. “Belle Lilly, votre peau est aussi douce que la soie.” “What did you say?” He leaned down over her and kissed her neck, finding and teasing the. More

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