Marie came back, a pink nightgown covering her flesh without seeming to cover it at all. She sat down on the bed.
“What do you do in the off-season?” he asked.
“Why, I’m a college girl, Mr. Logan. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Are you joking?”
“Certainly not. Why? Do I surprise you?”
“I guess there’s more than one way to get money for tuition, right?”
“Right. But there aren’t many more enjoyable ways. I’ll tell you that.” Her eyes smiled at him, sparkling with her enjoyment of the situation.
Thorne got up and stretched. “Ah,” he said, “muscles getting old and sore—”
Marie stood up and moved next to him. “We’ll fix your muscles so they feel just fine, Mr. Logan. Why don’t you lie down and let me take care of you?”
Her fingers moved deftly over his clothes . .
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