RUBY

Luther put his large hand on the back of my neck, then spread my long legs, lifted me easily, and let me sit on his lap. He pressed my thighs tightly, asking me to hold him so I wouldn't fall.

"Sir, one more time. I didn't come here to look for you, but what the hell are you doing?" I continued to protest. Do I need to argue with him about this touching?

Luther just looked into my eyes, silent for a moment as if he was drowning in the look in my eyes at him. What does he think about me? He ...