Tasting Fear
Page 55
“Out with it,” he prodded. “Don’t make me wait.”
“Thigh-high black lace-up boots,” she said, whipping them out of the bag. “You said you wanted to see them. So, um…here they are.”
He stared at them. He started to laugh. His tension started to unwind, into shaking convulsions. “Oh, God. I can’t believe it.”
“I no longer have the ripped fishnet stockings at the moment, unfortunately,” she said. “I’ll have to go shopping to complete the ensemble.”
He wiped his eyes. “They’re fine all by themselves,” he assured her. “They’re perfect. Put them on right now. I’ll show you.”
And he did.
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Copyright © 2009 Shannon McKenna
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