DISCLAIMER: Guiding Light and its characters are the property of Proctor & Gamble. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks and dedication goes out to Wonko for beta-ing, for the title, and for being generally awesome. She rocks the Casbah! Any remaining mistakes are mine. Also, comments are, indeed, love...
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Power Bottom
By Juri


The first time they made love, despite what people probably thought when they turned their minds to such things, had been soft and tender and absolutely wonderful. Olivia had managed to surprise her with a gourmet, home cooked meal and expensive, sinfully delicious champagne. This was followed by a romantic moonlit walk around the farm, which the hotel owner had arranged to have illuminated by Chinese lanterns strung on cords around key trees, and floating, non-toxic candles in the lake.

When yearning looks and teasing touches had become too much, Olivia had led Natalia inside, up the stairs, past Emma's empty bedroom – the girl had been kind enough to occupy herself with a sleepover – and into the room which they had been sharing, quite frustratingly, for over a month. There were faux tea-lights – safety first, Olivia had breathed into her ear – sprinkled liberally about the room, flickering welcomingly, and the bed was peppered with rose petals. Natalia had turned to her soon-to-be lover, eyes shiny with tears, hands reaching up to cup her cheeks and bring her down into a kiss that would express all that her voice could at the moment not. They hadn't made it to the bed the first round, but fortunately both had the zeal for a second, third, and surprisingly, because by that point both were shaking with exhaustion, a fourth.

Afterward, they had drifted in and out of sleep, not having the energy to go again, but neither wanting to miss even a second of the freedom that came with being completely comfortable and naked with the love of one's life. Hands lazily caressed bare skin, the curve of a hip, the angle of a shoulder blade, the nape of a neck, and sighs of contentment filled the air. "I love you," one would whisper in the other's ear, and the sentiment would be returned with a smile and a languid kiss. They watched the sunrise in each other's arms before finally succumbing to fatigue, grateful that it was a Saturday morning. As she was drifting off to sleep, Natalia had noticed raised welts on Olivia's back, made by her nails in a particularly enthusiastic bout of love-making, and she had mumbled an apology, stroking the scratches and dimly noticing the older woman's shiver and oddly appreciative moan at the touch. With a shrug, she had settled down against her lover and sunk into unconsciousness.

The fourth time they made love, it was exactly like what people had thought it would be, when their minds turned to such thoughts. One minute they were arguing in Olivia's office, about what neither would remember, and then suddenly they were kissing, and it was rough, and hungry, and completely untamed. Buttons popped off clothing, underwear was torn and lost to passion, objects were broken and left unnoticed about the room. Olivia shoved her assistant against her desk, hefting her onto the edge in a show of carnal strength, pushed her flat with one hand, and took her until everyone within a sixty foot radius to her office knew the names of at least eighty Saints. Natalia came screaming the praises of her new favorite one, Santa Olivia de la Lengua.

When she was finished having her way with the vocal Latina, Olivia had grinned, straightened her clothing and turned away, fully intent on leaving the woman to return to Earth on her desk top while she continued with her business, a shredded pair of black – Natalia was more wicked than people gave her credit for – panties tucked into her pocket. As she had reached the door, a surprisingly strong hand caught her arm and spun her around, pinning her to the hardwood. Her assistant used more force than was necessary, piqued that her lover was going to leave her bare and still shuddering from aftershocks on the desk. The look that Olivia threw at her was filled with so much heat, Natalia was surprised she hadn't spontaneously combusted.

Intrigued, she had fisted the hotelier's shirt and tugged her forward, crushing their lips together harshly. The older woman melted against her, moaning meekly into her mouth, before groaning as she was pushed away and slammed against the door again. Green eyes fluttered closed, and the taller woman's breathing became shallow, her hands coming to rest against Natalia's hips, urging her closer. Taking mental note of the phenomena for later contemplation, the not-so-innocent woman fucked her lover against the entrance to her office.

The eighteenth time they made love, Natalia was beginning to notice a definite pattern of preferences about her lover. Olivia loved to be marked, deny it as she might. Her moans were always loudest, most uncensored, when Natalia bit hard enough to bruise her breast, or stomach, or maybe especially, her thighs. Olivia liked, very much, for her hair to be gripped, the movement of her head to be controlled by an iron hold in chestnut colored locks. The younger woman had discovered this the tenth time they had made love, when, at her lover's suggestion, they had experimented with position, and she found herself unable to get the right angle unless she grabbed a fistful of silken tresses.

What Olivia especially enjoyed, it became clear to Natalia, was inciting the smaller woman to frenzy, to lose control. The older woman had come so hard she had fainted exactly once, and that had been when Natalia, frustrated by a whole day of being teased without being allowed to touch, had dragged the other woman into a random room at the Beacon, thrown her roughly onto the bed, and took her without priming or preamble. The younger woman could still feel the sting of her lovers sharp nails digging into her back as she slammed into her, unrelentingly hard, not stopping until Olivia had climaxed over and over and over… actually, she had lost count, really only stopping because her lover had lost consciousness.

This time, though, Natalia had an almost scientific agenda in mind when she pulled her lover to her, taking note of every moan and tremble, and what caused them. Olivia's reactions to her were, and had always been, open and real and intense, and gave her enough confidence to explore. However, what she learned through her experimentation was something that perhaps she was not ready to know: Olivia Spencer, the love of her life, mother of her daughter, got extremely hot and bothered by pain, by being held down, by being completely out of control. Bottom was the word; Olivia Freakin' Spencer, ball buster and alpha bitch extraordinaire loved being kept in check.

It made sense, of course. The older woman was in constant control of everything in her sphere of perception, micromanaging everything in her life, from her business, to her personal life, to the lives of others she had any sort of relationship with. It was what was expected of her, the portrait she had painted of herself for the world to see. There was nothing Olivia Spencer couldn't do, wouldn't do, and pity to the fool who told her otherwise. So, of course, Olivia's true self, the one she saved for home and family, would be the opposite, wouldn't want to make decisions or direct events. Honestly, Natalia didn't know why she hadn't intuited it right away - the woman could barely choose a movie to watch or chair to sit in at home.

But, this was different, this was scary and not something that Natalia had even dreamed of having to deal with. It made her re-evaluate all their interactions, look for signs she could have missed; it made her confused, to be in control in a way she never had before. She had always been the one being led, first with Nicky then Frank, and even Olivia in most respects. But Natalia Rivera realized that, subtly, without words to complicate matters, her lover was asking her, trusting her, to be completely in control, to have absolute power over her. The younger woman didn't know if she could handle it, if she was worthy or strong enough. So she did what she always did; she ran. Or, more accurately, she ignored.

The twenty-eighth time they made love – Natalia would never stop counting, because each time was as precious as it was satisfying – the Latina noticed that her lover was more reserved than usual. She wasn't faking her reactions, of that the younger woman was sure. She moaned just as enthusiastically, met thrusts and squirmed against caresses just as intently, but something was… off. As she leaned in to kiss and nip at her lover's neck, and was met with lips instead, it suddenly hit Natalia; Olivia wasn't letting her mark her skin. Every attempt was met with some sort of diversion or distraction, and however pleasant those were, as soon as she realized it, it bothered the smaller woman greatly. She liked marking that delicate skin, making sure the pale beauty knew exactly who she belonged to…

The thirty-second time they made love, Olivia gently removed Natalia's hands from her hair and kissed her fingertips, whispering that she didn't want her lover to get a cramp in her hand from the force it took to hold her in that position. Green eyes wouldn't meet brown when she said it, and Natalia frowned, not quite understanding what was happening, but knowing that she had caused it somehow. Didn't the other woman understand that she enjoyed that? That she liked doing it as much as Olivia liked having it done?

The thirty-eighth time they made love, they didn't actually make love. Nor the thirty-ninth, fortieth, forty-first, forty-second… Natalia didn't really notice at first, not until their forty-fifth time. The first time it happened, it hadn't even entered Natalia's mind as abnormal. Olivia had flipped them over when it had been her turn to receive her lover's undivided attention, so that she was once again on top, and had entered the smaller woman before she could say a word, completely derailing any protests with her talented fingers.

Natalia orgasmed more times than she could count, finally begging the older woman to 'please stop.' Exhausted, she had raised her hand to touch Olivia, only to have the rather limp appendage kissed tenderly and tucked back against her body, which was promptly spooned from behind with a whispered, 'next time, okay?' Nodding weakly, she had drifted off to sleep, feeling a bit sad that she hadn't been able to reciprocate, but vowing silently to make up for it the next time.

Only the next time, and the following six times, it had been the same, with Olivia interrupting her before she had even begun to touch the older woman and using her admittedly advanced sexual prowess to distract her lover from the task at hand. She would leave the olive-skinned woman too tired and dazed to do more than accept her snuggling and pass out.

Olivia had also, Natalia noticed, become twice the tease she normally was in public, often sneaking craftily disguised gropes and touches, and whispering lewd promises into the younger woman's ears whenever they were close enough together. She was also a fan of the erotic email, the Latina discovered one morning; she hadn't stopped blushing for over an hour after that first message. Natalia was just grateful that she had quit her job at The Beacon, positive that she would not survive it if she had to spend all day with her suddenly extra frisky lover. Also, she had heard from Greg when they had seen each other at the hair dressers, the older woman had gone back to being a bear on the job, which Natalia thought guiltily might have something to do with her.

The forty-fifth time they made love, Olivia stopped talking during sex. She moaned, and sometimes groaned, and whimpered and sighed, but no matter what the dark haired woman did, she couldn't inspire a single word to pass through her lover's lips when they made love…

"…And I swear to fucking God, if I ever, EVER, catch wind of even a fraction of the levels of incompetence displayed today, I will fire ALL of you and fucking sue you for damages!" Natalia Rivera could hear her lover's voice as soon as she stepped into the 'business hallway' of the Beacon, and stopped short, astonished and appalled at the language being broadcast throughout the hall. "Are we clear? I said, are we fucking Goddamn clear!?" Eyes widening, the Latina shook off the shock, marching up to the office and throwing open the door.

Inside stood the heads of all the hotel's major departments, cowering near the small tree in the corner of the room, as if to try and seek shelter from the raging storm that was their employer's wrath. No one noticed her entrance into the room. "Michael, take the rest of these inept excuses for employees and fix this mess. Greg, I need to speak to you privately." With audible sighs of relief, all but a single, trembling, staff member fled the room. Olivia still hadn't noticed the younger woman standing quietly in the corner of the room.

Stalking up to the tall man, Olivia Spencer looked like a lioness hunting her prey. The fear rolled off the thin hotel employee in almost visible waves, and Natalia watched, stunned, as her lover grabbed the front of her General Manager's shirt and twisted it in her grip, almost certainly cutting off his oxygen supply. He didn't make a move to stop her. "It's your job to make sure that everything runs smoothly, Greg," the older woman growled, practically lifting him off his feet. "If anything remotely like this happens again, unemployment will be the least of your worries. Is. That. Clear?" The terrified man yelped out what could have been a yes. "Good."

The hotelier's voice was like gravel soaked in gasoline and set ablaze, and it struck her lover right in the libido. For moment she felt guilty for being aroused by her ex-Boss verbally tearing her poor assistant apart, before she pushed both the shame and what caused it to the back of her mind. This was absolutely appalling, and it would stop. Immediately. Frowning and clenching her jaw, Natalia squared her shoulders and made her presence known.

"Just what in the name of all that is holy do you think you are doing?" the dark haired

woman demanded, startling Olivia, who dropped Greg like he had burned her and sprung away from the gasping man.

"N-Natalia! What are you doing here?" Stomping up to the sputtering woman, Natalia glared.

"I asked you a question, missy! What the heck did you think you were doing?"

Eyes darting back and forth between the women, Greg rubbed his sore throat and, wincing, coughed nervously. "I'm, uh, gonna go now," he squeaked, backing to the door. Green eyes flashed, cutting off his retreat.

"I'm not done with you," Olivia ground out, voice like steel.

"Oh yes, you are," Natalia said, voice harder, like diamond, words final. The terrified man scuttled out of the room, having the presence of mind to pull the door shut behind him.

The women stood, staring at each other for long moments, unmoving. Natalia could feel her excitement warring with her anger and incredulity as Olivia seemed to flinch and cower before her without moving. She studiously ignored the feeling and its implications. "I asked you a question. What do you think you were doing?" she repeated, scowling when she got a dismissive shrug.

"Correcting a problem." Olivia replied breezily, shaking off her surprise quickly and assuming a casual attitude. Walking to the smaller woman, the hotel owner leaned down for a kiss. She found her face held in a death grip instead, and her breath caught.

"Excuse me?" The words were beyond disbelieving.

"I, uh, I… sorry?"

"You're darn right you're sorry!" the younger woman exclaimed, using her hold on Olivia's chin to keep her at eye level. "You can't just go around treating people like that! Throwing temper tantrums like a spoiled child! Honestly, Emma handles things better than you do sometimes!" she continued, punctuating each sentence with a firm tug.

"Yes Natalia," the older woman agreed, eyes widening, pupils so wide they consumed the green completely.

"And grabbing Greg like that! You're lucky if he doesn't sue!" The shorter woman ranted, hand moving from her lover's face to her chest, shoving until she was trapped between her ire and the hardwood of the desk.

"Yes Natalia." Olivia's voice hit a new low, toe curling register.

Standing back, Natalia glared, hands on hips. "Don't you 'yes Natalia' me! Do you know what it's going to take for me to smooth things over with the staff?" she demanded, foot tapping impatiently. Olivia blinked up at her, all innocence.

"You don't work here anymore." That brought the other woman up short, and she paused for a moment.

"That is not the point, Olivia!" she growled through clenched teeth. "You can't throw a fit whenever you don't get what you want!"

"Of course not, Natalia, I'm sorry," the hotelier replied, breath shallow and thready as her lover pinned her against the desk with a hand at her chest.

"Gah! Stop being so… so…"

"So what? Agreeable? Would you like me to argue with you?" The dark haired woman let out a frustrated breath.


"Well then what? What do you want from me Natalia, hmm? What can I do for you?"

"Who do you think you are?" Olivia snorted, beginning to rise form her semi-seated position.

"Olivia Freakin' Spencer." She replied, grinning. "You know, the Boss around here. And you are?" That was the last straw.

Natalia saw red. The older woman wasn't teasing her, she was mocking her, she was sure of it. It was in the laughter in her eyes, the tone of her voice, the way she pushed subtly against the smaller woman's hand, refusing to stay where she put her. Something inside the younger woman snapped; she had had enough. "Oh that is it!"

Grabbing Olivia's shoulder roughly, Natalia spun the older woman and bent her over the desk, jamming a restraining hand between her shoulder blades. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" the hotel owner squawked, trying to use her arms to lift herself up; Natalia was a lot stronger than she looked.

"You are acting like a spoiled brat," the younger woman replied, leaning forward, hold solid.

"Natalia, let me up. Now." Olivia huffed, squirming to get leverage. "Goddamn it Natalia, let me go."

"Did you just curse at me?" The question was asked quietly, evenly, and Olivia stilled. "Did you?" Natalia prompted, pressing down harder.

"Uh, n-no. I just, I-"

"You just cursed at me, and took the Lord's name in vain."

"I didn't curse at you, just, in the same sentence," she replied, attempting to sound dignified despite her current position.

"Don't play games with me, Olivia Spencer. Did you just curse at me?"

"And what if I did?" she challenged, and it was clear she was pouting, there was no doubt about it; pouting and baiting her lover all at once. Natalia shook her head in disbelief.

"If you are going to act like a petulant, misbehaving child, then I will treat you like one."


Natalia was as surprised by the first smack as Olivia was, her hand tingling intensely in the long moments of stillness after the resounding 'crack' of the blow. Then Olivia squeaked, the sound indignant and disbelieving, but also something close to another noise that Natalia had become quite familiar with in the last few weeks. Scowling, the dark haired woman raised her hand again brought it down. Another smack, another squeak, this one less indignant and more…

Natalia could feel the heat sweeping from her centre, radiating outward to fill her with a warm buzz of arousal, and she blushed. Suddenly, she was both thankful and disappointed that Olivia had chosen to wear pants that morning. The temptation to strike bare flesh was strong, the only thing keeping it from happening the fact that she would have to stop and turn her lover to undo her clothing; a skirt would have just been too easy. She raised her hand again.

Ten times; she had hit Olivia ten times. And the older woman had took it, and Natalia was pretty sure she wasn't whimpering, but moaning by the last one, and definitely pushing back to meet the younger woman's strokes… And she herself couldn't deny that the flush on her cheeks had little to do with embarrassment. She throbbed almost painfully, sure that the other woman could smell her excitement in the air…

"Did… did you just spank me?" Olivia asked, voice a deep, rumbling husk as Natalia stepped back and allowed her to turn and get up.

"Y-you're darn right I did! And if you keep up all this-this bratty behavior, I'll do it again!" she squeaked, brown eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Sweet Jesus, she had just spanked Olivia Spencer like a misbehaving child. She cringed at the thought and the blasphemy, but didn't think on it for more than a moment because even as she backed up unsteadily to the door, her lover was stalking forward, a dangerous look in her eyes.

"You do, of course, realize what this means, don't you?" her lover purred, and she felt the solidness of wall against her back. Whoops!

"N-no?" She gulped, pressing herself against the wall.

Olivia dropped to her knees, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper on Natalia's jeans. "What?" A second later, her pants and underwear were around her ankles.

"I am going to lick you until you come, screaming my name."

"Olivia, wait, what-" A hot tongue slid across her already soaked folds and her voice caught in her throat, head snapping back to slam into the hard surface behind it. "Fuck!" she gasped, seeing stars, too turned on to stop the profanity from escaping her mouth. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would go to church and make penance for all her little slips; today, she would make the trip worthwhile. Her hand slipped down her body and came to rest on her lover's head, fingers tangling themselves in silky hair and tensing, pulling Olivia closer and gripping almost painfully. God, she had missed this, the little rush of power she got at controlling the older woman's movements as she pleasured her.

"Liv, please… oh yes… use your fingers," she breathed softly, and neither of them were deluded enough to think it was a request. A single, long finger penetrated her deeply, and she sighed, her other hand coming to rest on her lover's shoulder for support.

"Tell me what you want, Natalia, please. Tell me how to fuck you." The word struck her with the force of a fist, sending a bolt of pure, animalistic pleasure through her, bowing her back. Blushing, the darker woman tightened her hold on honey colored hair. In for a penny, she supposed…

"More," she mumbled, insides trembling ever-so-slightly as Olivia slowly withdrew. Two fingers slid back home, and she gasped, nails digging into the kneeling woman's scalp. Olivia moaned against her, vibrations going straight to her core. "Yes! Harder baby!"

Natalia existed in a world of singular purpose; there was no hotel, no staff probably right outside the door, and to a certain extent, no Olivia. Fingers attached to a surprisingly strong arm rhythmically pounded her into the wall, sending sparks of electricity shooting through her with every thudding impact. A very clever tongue played over her clit, the tip circling and flicking over her, then flattening out and laving her like it wanted to lick her until she faded away.

She could feel the other woman leaning against her legs, clutching at her hip to keep balance, but it was as if she wasn't there, separately from her; they were existing as one, hot, throbbing, pleasure-seeking whole. Every moan and sigh Natalia emitted Olivia echoed, every movement flowed through one and into the other, as if there was no boundary between them. Natalia realized her pleasure was Olivia's pleasure, and vice versa, and it brought tears to her eyes. How could she be afraid of this, embarrassed at her lover's needs, especially when they were no different form her own?

"Yes baby, right there. Harder," she commanded, gripping Olivia's hair and directing her head, her other hand stroking a shoulder, her breath hitching with each vigorous thrust.

"Oh God…" She used her hold to forcefully drag her lover to stand. "Do not stop."

"Yes baby, whatever you need." Olivia was panting, flushed, seemingly more overcome than Natalia herself. She shivered and leaned heavily against the smaller woman, never stopping the pistoning of her fingers.

"Faster." Olivia, Natalia knew, could keep this up for a long time. Sometimes, the younger woman would play a mental game with herself, and hold off climax as long as possible, to see if the hotelier's determination to bring her to orgasm could be limited by her body's stamina. Olivia had yet to disappoint, the current record an hour and six minutes of constant motion.

Shortly, all too soon, her body began to shake, the quivering starting deep within her core and radiating outward. She saw no reason to deny herself the intense pleasure that was building and reward her lover's hard work. She curled into Olivia's body, thighs clamping down on her wrist to keep it still. The fingers, uninhibited by her, continued to swirl around her clit and plunge into her opening. "Baby, I'm so close…"

"I know, love. Will you come for me?" It was like all she had been waiting for was those words. With a muffled shout, she came undone in her lover's arms.

Hazily, Natalia felt her lover re-clothe her, allowed herself to be led to the desk, and allowed the taller woman to help her into the chair. Aftershocks rolled through her body, causing her to shudder periodically as she recovered her functioning. "Are, are you all right Natalia?" The normally confident woman's voice was small, insecure, bringing the dark haired woman out of her stupor. Forcing her eyes open, she smiled her biggest smile.

"Never better. How do you feel?" Olivia smirked, but Natalia could still see her uncertainty in her eyes.

"Besides being sore, you mean? Oh, I'm just fine." Natalia groaned softly in embarrassment, but didn't look away.

"Do you want to talk about this?" the younger woman invited, holding out her hand and pulling her lover to her. The taller woman moved to lean against the desk in front of her.

"Not if you don't," she replied, cautiously. Natalia felt ashamed that she was the cause of Olivia's hesitation.

"It's okay Olivia, I promise not to… freak out, okay? That was… good, really good." The older woman blushed. "I-I get it now, what you need."

"Only sometimes, and not really, if you don't want." Olivia was quick to assure, but stopped short when Natalia held up a hand.

"I know you've been unhappy lately-"

"No! Not unhappy, not at all, I am very, very happy with you!" the older woman denied.

"I know that. I mean… I know that you haven't been fully satisfied with me, you know?"

"Natalia, really, it's-"

"Oh, for goodness sake woman, I am trying to say that I get that you have needs, slightly kinky needs, and that I'm okay with it!" Olivia cringed at the word kinky.

"Look, I know it's not normal, and I'm sure that there has to be some passage in the Bible about it. If you don't want to, really, I'll be okay." Natalia blinked at her, shaking her head incredulously.

"Olivia, you have been miserable, and cranky for a while now. As far as the Bible goes, it's no less wrong than wearing polyester, or eating shrimp."

"Polyester made it in there for a reason." Olivia joked. Rolling her eyes, Natalia continued.

"I made my peace with that particular section of the Book when I decided to commit to loving you. As long as you don't want me to, to… I don't know, tie you up and dip you in latex, I'm sure we'll be fine." Now the older woman gaped at her, looking vaguely scandalized. "I may have used Google… I don't suggest clicking at the 'Not Safe For Work' links…" Scandalized turned to horrified. Natalia giggled.

Reaching out and taking Olivia's hand again, the former personal assistant smiled reassuringly. "I will admit, when I figured out what you were trying to tell me, I freaked out a little." Olivia shrugged dismissively, but Natalia shook her head. "That was wrong, I should have talked to you about it. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," the taller woman assured.

"There is. We're partners, we have to be honest and open with each other, especially about what we need. We have this bad habit of hiding the way we feel to spare each other, and then it always ends up blowing up in our face. I was confused and scared, but I'm not anymore." A mischievous glint entered deep brown eyes. "If you need to me pull your hair and show you who's really boss, I guess I'll have to step up to the plate." Green eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "I love you, all of you, and this is a part of you. It's not weird, or wrong, just a little different. Please, trust me to take care of you."

There was a long moment of silence, before Olivia smiled radiantly, looking both relieved and proud.


"Okay? Good. Now, I have to go make sure Greg doesn't sue you for assault."

"Oh, what, that? Ha, that was, uh, staged… except the yelling before you not-so-stealthily made your way in the door; that was real. Greg bumped into me in the backroom of a certain store… in a certain section… and suggested something drastic…"


"What?! I didn't tell him, he just frickin' knew. And it worked…"

"So help me Lord, you are lucky that I don't put you over my knee!" Natalia groaned, covering face and sighing in exasperation.

"Lucky huh? What do I have to do to make that happen?" Olivia teased. Natalia just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"You, you knew this would happen all along!" she accused, glaring. The taller woman buffed her nails on her blazer.

"It's called a Power Bottom. You like Google; look it up."

They looked at each other mutely for long minutes, the silence comfortable. Olivia smiled shyly and leaned forward for a kiss, which her lover happily returned. "Are you sure we're okay?" she asked as they broke apart. Natalia nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry I reacted like I did, but, I don't ever want you to feel like you can't come to me with what you need. Okay?"


"So, explain to me again how Greg knew." A mischievous glint entered her eyes.

"Well! There I was, innocently examining some, um, merchandise, when…"

The End

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