It started all over again, the tingling sensation running up her legs from the tips of her toes as his fingers rubbed softly against the pads of her feet.
The smell of Jasmin overpowering her senses. He rubbed them with such gentle care, his thumbs moving up and down the heel to the toes. Eliciting from her the kind of release she did not even release she needed. Drawing from inside the images of her bottled emotions. The images that seared in her mind.
The betrayal of her father.
There he stood across the table with that woman. The young that even at such a tender age could not match with beauty of her mother. Her straight blonde hair colored in parts to soft brown trying to look more beautiful than she could be. Pulled back in a high ponytail, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was cheap whore that never knew the subtlety of money.