Forbidden Warmth
It was a hand, hot and uninvited.
"Pervert!" I almost shouted. Every woman who commutes has faced something like this, and I was no exception. My skirt was short, perhaps too short. Bending over revealed my pink thong-covered privates, making me a target for those subway perverts.
When I turned just slightly, ready to lash out, my breath caught. Reflected in the train window, the man behind me wasn’t a stranger at all. It was my father-in-law, Victor Collins, who had just arrived in Silverhaven.