The top button was the hardest with my trembling fingers. After that, they were a little easier. My breathing, though, not so much, as the buttons cam... undone, past her cleavage to the very last. After I’d pulled her blouse out from being tucked into her pants, my hands just naturally strayed back up to each side of that cleavage. God, her nipples were hard and felt good, her skin so soft and sensual. She let out another little moan and gripped both my wrists, first pressing my hands a little. I also enrolled for my doctorate; my planned thesis was to be on the militarization of the police. If there was anything I could speak to, it was the military and the police.Another thing that took some time was that Tolley Hunter found her ghost writer. One afternoon she conference-called a fellow named Christopher Balvin, who laid out what he was thinking. He was thinking of alternating chapters, basing the book on biographies of Tolley and me. She was only a few years older than I was, so. More

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