Laurence's mother froze upon receiving the cheque. A smile appeared on her face, unable to fade as she looked at the woman in his arms. She reluctantly spoke, "Hey, Mr. Boston, what's so special about her?"
"Hey, Mr. Boston, what's so great about her? She's not feminine at all. How can she compare to my Miya? What do you think of my Miya?"
"Scram!"
He raised an eyebrow, shot a cold look, and picked up the woman in his arms, striding out the door, leaving Laurence's mother fuming behind him.
At the hotel, in the luxurious suite, he carried her in and gently placed her on the big bed. The tension from the drive had built up desire, and his body ached from holding it in. His lips fervently pressed against hers, kissing her passionately, losing all restraint.
