magic-hands

Hello, Miya._ His smooth tone speaking my name made a warm sensation tingle across the surface of my body. A hundred questions ran through my head, wanting to be spoken. How do they know who I am? Who are they? What do they want with me? I was a single, working-class associate professor with department store clothes. Surely they didn__ think they would get much of a ransom for me. The expression on the man__ face held me, and my demanding thoughts.__e aren__ going to harm you.__ smirked at him and glanced at my right arm, feeling its ache. My elbow might be badly bruised, but it wasn__ broken. His eyes followed mine and he sighed. __hat was an accident._ His tan, sinewy hand touched my wrist then delicately ran down my bones to my elbow. I flinched, but didn__ feel any pain.