They were in a concrete hallway. No carpet on the floor, no pictures on the wall: just cold stone. ‘What is this place?’ Miranda asked. ‘Home,�... Grey replied as he began making his way down the corridor, bracing his hand against the wall, ‘or what passes for it for the last few years.’ Miranda looked aghast, ‘Years? You’ve spent years here?’ ‘Many.’ The corridor opened up into a large, square shaped room, four walls, cookie-cutter perfect and cast in cement. ‘Huh,’ Miranda commented, refused to. "Whaddaya think?"What I thought was, to hell with the ice cream. I could throw her over my shoulder and, fondling her sumptuous rear, carry her to the bedroom, throw her on the bed and assault her. That's what I thought!"Um, very, ah, um. Actually, it's a bit hard to think with you like that," I finally got out, nodding at her attire.She laughed. "Good."Strolling around the table, she gave me a bump with her hip, "Move."I dutifully pulled back from the table and turned slightly, fully expecting. More

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