He began to move. Slowly. Deliberately.

He reached up and pulled his tie from around his neck, the expensive silk sliding down like a slain serpent. It dropped soundlessly to the polished wood floor. Next, his immaculate shirt. He began unbuttoning it from the bottom up, one gold button at a time, each click a hammer blow against the fragile remains of my resolve. He never broke eye contact, his gaze pinned to mine, watching the moment my indignation started to melt into dread and, God help me, anticipation.

“I told you I had a long day,” he said, his voice husky, rolling through the room like a heavy fog....