Dangerous Pleasures
' she demands.
I swallow. 'Please put your clothes back on.'
'Look at me, Robyn.' she says, flatly. 'I'm asking you to do this for me because I need your help. I hardly ever ask you for anything. Help me, now.'
She turns slowly, posing like a ballerina for me. Her high, small breasts are cupped by her white lacy brassiere, and her panties are traced with lace and bows. She's lithe, no spare weight, but no muscle tone visible. But it doesn't matter. Lexi's ethereal - she doesn't look like she belongs in our world. Slight shoulders and hips, a perfect neck, and brilliant gold hair falling in gentle waves down to a point between her shoulder blades, which are lightly dusted with a sprinkle of f
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