It wasn't like her. She was usually chattering away. It wasn't sullenness or bad humor. She wasn't giving Maggie a cold shoulder; she was pleasant enough when spoken to. She seemed too preoccupied to share whatever was going on in her mind.Maggie accredited it to their leaving for home the next day. Maybe she was mulling over what had gone on the day before as she accosted Fred while they were swimming. Pat was usually a bundle of energy. Maggie thought that she might have used it all up for a while."Let's have some lunch at the restaurant where we ate the other night," Maggie suggested. Pat nodded and soon they were seated at a table at a window overlooking the lake. They gazed out at the peaceful water, the sun shimmering off of it. Pat was still quiet. Her eyes hinted of thoughts that were as deep as the lake, itself.Maggie took an unusual role of leading the conversation. "It's been a nice vacation. Things turned out pretty well."Pat didn't look away from the view of the lake.. ..” She laughed again, and arched her back ever so slightly, moving against him. His breath quickened despite his best efforts. His hand loosened on the knife, and she used this moment to reach down and slide one hand up his leg. When the tips of her fingers brushed his member he gasped as though struck. “Well well...i thought you hated me, cassiline?” He fought to control his breath as her fingers continued to stroke him teasingly. “It's...It's just an animal reaction, I swear.” he whispered. Distantly, his mind told him to move, but it felt as though he was frozen in place, his whole body pivoting on that one delicious point of contact. “Drop the knife, there's a good boy.” “Fuck you.” he panted, but even as he said it he felt his resolve slip. He frantically tried to reign himself in, his hand tightened on the hilt of the knife. Carefully avoiding the lethal point, she shifted deftly beneath him, sliding one leg around him so that he knelt between her thighs. “Drop it.” she.
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