“What’s that bloody thing on your back?”
The inquirer had unfastened the top two buttons of her blouse, revealing her well-formed cleavage and black lacy bra. Her gleaming silver tresses spilled over her slim shoulders as she released them carefree from a neat bun. She took off the coat of her skirted business suit, neatly folded it, and laid it across the tacky pink love seat next to the door. Her transformation was swift and methodical, but drew to a close with a gentle sip of a sparkling glass of red wine on the bedside table.
Sitting on the other side of the king-sized bed, Delilah tried not to focus on the defrosting ice-queen behind her. It really was not that hard; it helped to focus on the discrepancies between the somewhat cheap hotel they were in and Mammon’s enormous bedroom, with its naked golden female statues and perfume fountains. She suddenly realized that she was trembling uncontrollably. Something was nagging her.
“I asked you a question,