The rain outside the window was incessant, its "pitter-patter" defiantly knocking on the window glass.
The pouring rain streamed rapidly, its sound strident.
Sylvan Cheney's strong hand was wandering over her smooth skin...
Jasmine Yale's shoulders shook, her fear echoing the innocence of a newborn kitten.
Under Sylvan's caress, her body shrunk into a ball, and her eyes were filled with panic.
"Jasy, I don't like you one bit right now. Three years ago, when you climbed into my bed, you weren't like this."
Sylvan Cheney leaned forward and exhaled into her ear.
His voice was low, chilly, and suggestive.
It revealed the typical depth and sexiness of a man.
"Can't you stop bringing up the mistakes I made three years ago?" Jasmine Yale choked out, "I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have got drunk, I shouldn't have embraced you, I shouldn't have climbed into your bed, I should have taken contraception... I know I was wrong, I know I was cheap..."
