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Emma places a hand on her door frame, looking toward me over her shoulder, her lower lip between her teeth. Still in her bikini from earlier, a thin t-shirt and Jean shorts mold wonderfully to her curves. She moves forward, willing me to follow her like prey into her lair. The phrase “willing victim” comes to mind. I will follow her anywhere.

“Make yourself at home,” she invites, swinging her arm toward the overstuffed sofa in her seating area. She turns on the nearby ...