Page 78 of Edge of Ruin

“Out with it,” I prompted. “You’re killing me here. Don’t make me wait.”

“Behold, my famous thigh-high black lace-up boots,” she said, whipping them out of the bag. “You said you wanted to see them. So here they are.”

I stared at the boots, and started to laugh, helplessly. My 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 look for you.”

I wiped my eyes. “They’ll work just fine all by themselves,” I assured her. “They’re perfect. Put them on. I’ll show you just how stimulating they are.”

And that was exactly what I did.

* * *