For some reason, the thought that he wouldn't pay the ransom had never really occurred to me. My hands balled into fists with sheer frustration. Olivia looked nervous at my obvious state of agitation."Don't get worked up," she urged. "You just need to relax."I nodded, desperately trying to stem my building bitterness."Lie face down on the bed, I'll give you a massage," she volunteered.I looked at her suspiciously and then glanced at the door to ensure I'd not forgotten to lock it. The key was pushed deep in the pocket of my jeans.Obeying her instructions, I reclined on my front and waited. Olivia straddled my torso, running her hands up and down my back and working the tension from my muscles. Her touch felt simply divine and when her fingers wrapped around my shoulder blades and squeezed, I sighed contentedly."Nice?" she asked."Mmm." Thought you might like it," she replied as she continued to administer her therapy. "They all love it when I do this for them."Her hands gripped the. "You keep looking at me," she replied, narrowing her eyes suspiciously."What do you mean?" You keep looking at my legs and feet," she said with mock accusation. "That's not true!" I spat, shaking my head. Without thinking, my gaze fell to her toes, distracted by the way she kept flexing them back and forth, stretching the thin material of her black pantyhose. Each painted jewel seemed to dance with a hypnotic rhythm that held my focus as they rippled back and forth.She snorted through her nose. "I mean, you're doing it right now," she said with a tone that was half annoyance, half amusement.I sighed. "I-I guess," I began, realizing with a dawning recognition of the blatantly obvious that she was right. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."But I did know, though the admission was shocking to me. All night long I'd been sneaking glimpses of my friend's long legs, studying the firm muscle of her calves; the way her strappy heels had pulled them into tight definition. I'd been captivated.
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