“Why are you . . . doing this?” I tried to cross my legs and pull the blanket across my lap again but Damon was faster, always is. He grabbed both...of my wrists in one of his hands and stood behind the sofa, raising my arms over my head.“Hmm, even though I can’t see all of you from here, this view is quite tantalizing. I’m doing this because I want to, Lucy, because I’ve wanted to for a long time.” he whispered in my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”His breath fanned against my ear as his lips. The preacher took leaveafter the first Sunday charade. We didn’t know if he’d ever beback. My father filled in, but he held no service. Like I said,I was the service. When I entered the church, all heads turnedto see who I’d assault, which lucky woman would get carried outin a blanket. The men outnumbered the women two to one. Most ofthe women who were there were all willing to endure the sametreatment my mother got. Mother wore a sack dress and watched meexpectantly. . More

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