She stood, hands on hips, feet planted squarely apart, wearing a black leather mini-skirt, black lace bustier, and a black feather boa. Her eyes narrowed and her full, glossy red lips parted, then she said in a voice husky with borrowed bravado, “Well, I declare. If you don’t take the cake for high and mighty arrogance, I don’t know who the fuck does.” Then she crossed herself, turned, and walked out of the room, her spike heels click-clacking across the cold, hard linoleum floor. Christian vamp meets Scarlet O’Hara.

He was sorry to see her go. She was, if nothing else, intriguing.

3 Responses to “Packages”

  1. borrowed bravado, i think not, rather, unleashed

  2. Hmmm, you could be right!

  3. A fun flash. 🙂

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