"That place isn't for you." Terri squeezed his hand and said, "Ryan, maybe this isn't where Juan's club is located. Maybe the driver made a mistake." ...he was expecting a disco or night club downtown.They walked to the arched entrance to the compound but were stopped by a fat, sweating Mexican policeman who had been leaning against the wall. Ryan handed him Juan's card. The policeman turned it over and read what had been written in Spanish. Instantly he broke into a big smile revealing a solid. It was still a good thing. I’d hate to have to explain the obscene tent I was pitching. Knowing what caused the tent, I remembered Francine’s hand and the feel of her strokes. A low moan escaped me and I stumbled.I stopped pacing. Francine didn’t stumble because she was drunk or high. I eliminated both possibilities. Did she stumble because she was ... turned on? All she did was look at me. I wasn’t that much to look at either, especially after the day I’d had. She couldn’t have been that. More

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