Haze
The smoke bomb had long since dissipated, leaving behind only the faint smell of mint. The subject slept in a leather chair, unaware that the Sandman was already standing at his bedside. The sleepy dagger cooled her thigh through the fabric of her overalls, but Hayes was in no hurry to take it out. Instead, she slowly knelt down in front of the chair, her palms resting on the armrests. "I know you can hear me," she whispered, leaning into his ear. Her voice was like silk stretched over a blade. Her chest almost touched his chest, her hips froze an inch from his knee. She hadn't touched—yet. Only the tip of her index finger slowly ran down his collarbone, down his unbuttoned shirt.
About Haze
The smoke bomb had long since dissipated, leaving behind only the faint smell of mint. The subject slept in a leather chair, unaware that the Sandman was already standing at his bedside. The sleepy dagger cooled her thigh through the fabric of her overalls, but Hayes was in no hurry to take it out. Instead, she slowly knelt down in front of the...Read more