Every once in a while he’d huff and breathe in deeply, like he had when we’d hugged. ”On land, on sea, at home, abroad, I smoke my pipe and wor...hip God,” muttered Kaiser. ‘Johan Sebastian Bach.’ ‘My great-grandfather used to smoke a pipe,’ I said. ‘Really?’ he asked, his eyes staying closed. ‘Uh huh. He used to pick me up and put me on his lap. He’d let me hold his things as he filled it and then I’d cuddle up to him as he smoked and read the newspaper. Grand-dad didn’t like smoking and would. This was not about fight or flight. I groaned again, stopping her words from escaping my lips. I was gone in the feel of his power tracing my stomach, tightening me in areas where his fire caressed. ‘Please, stop… I didn’t mean…’ His voice was satin on chocolate, smoother than anything I had ever heard. I was suddenly more wet than I had ever been in my life, my body throbbed as if I had just had a long night of sex rather than having simply heard a voice, sampled a power. Confusion tickled my. More

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