They painted a picture of a reasonably happy, friendly girl, though one with all the typical fears and neuroses.I looked through her closet some more ...nd I noticed something in the back. "Why do you have a folding table in your bedroom closet?" I asked."It's my massage table, sir," she replied."You use it to get massages?" I asked."No, to give them," she said. "One of my past jobs was giving massages."I glared at her darkly and then said, "You are going to be punished for this." Why sir?" she. Okay, let's see if she is indeed better than that crumpled pillow. I tossed an arm over her and eased up against her. The pillow never purred. Or wiggled backward. Or giggled and twisted around and shoved me over on my back and straddled me."I've been drifting along here, waiting for a sign that you're awake," she smiled down at me. "Are you interested in breakfast?" She wiggled a part of herself against me, something wet and warm and delightful in ways I lack words to describe. "Or maybe. More

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