Anne flopped down on the bed in her guest room, trying to sort out the jumble of emotions that were tormenting her.
"Why did I go to pieces like that?" she asked herself, staring blankly at the soft white glowing OLED ceiling.
Gordon's wall slam and order to shut up should have been grounds for his instant dismissal. Instead, it had sent a shockwave of electricity through her body, and had turned her on like nothing else ever had before.
What was worse, the incident had seemed to have short-circuited her brain, and she had clung to him like a child or a lover, feeling completely safe and protected in his arms.
She rolled to her side, and slowly pulled herself out of the bed, and made her way to the bathroom, where she stared at herself in the mirror.
Her brown eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her shoulder-length brown hair was a disheveled mess.
