But how did he do it? Old friends, lovers, good and bad. Quotes from her high school yearbook. Her senior prom. Things she’d had published. The tatt...o on her ass. And things she’d tried to forget, among them her wet t-shirt adventure, her affair with Henry and her out-of-wedlock pregnancy. She was softly crying as she finished reading it, angry and miffed and flattered and impressed all at the same time. She felt violated somehow, like Milo had driven a microscope into her soul. She read it. Jane let him purge himself, content to stroke his hair and murmur wordless endearments. When Nathan calmed, Jane put her hands on his head and lifted his face to hers. The kiss they shared certainly felt real. "Better, sweet?" Jane asked gently. A new peace shown in her lover's red rimmed eyes. "Yes, Mistress, thank you." "You're quite welcome. Now, isn't this position we find ourselves in somewhat evocative?" Nathan looked down to realize that he was kneeling between her splayed. More

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