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He looked at me from head to toe as if for the first time. The heat from his eyes as they scanned my body made me want to throw myself at him. I took a few steps back as he stood and walked towards me slowly ... cunningly, never taking his eyes off of mine. I felt the pole at my back and didn't make to move. Standing practically toe to toe, he placed his palm on my cheek. I closed my eyes and turned my face slightly, kissing his thumb as it crossed my lips. I opened my eyes to see him gazing down my open shirt. I had forgotten I was so exposed to him.His hand traveled down my neck and, joined by the other, traced the curves of my breasts through my open shirt. He cupped my breasts and teasing my painfully hard nipples. My breathing became shallow when he slid the shirt off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I stood completely naked in dim light, leaning against a pole, in full view of him. I could no longer take this slow teasing torture. Pressing my body against him, his skin. The Trocadero made it so easy too. It was never any problem for an ardent admirer to get to see the girls. And with all the uncertainty and panic in the city no one was going to miss them. Freddie waved at Louise and Annette with a mock salute and headed off towards the stairs that led up and out of the cellar prison. The girls scowled at him as he left them. He picked his way through the wine cases and barrels that were piled, untidily around the room. Most of the good stuff had been drunk. There was no point in leaving that for the Germans. Clegg locked the door behind him., ignoring the plaintive muffled groans of the girls.He emerged into the bar of La Belle Aurore. Rick, the owner, was sitting at a table near the bar. On the far side of the room Sam, the bar's pianist and one of the finest jazz musicians in Paris, was chatting with the small knot of girls that had gathered around him as he improvised a short tune at the keyboard.Clegg leant on the bar and ordered a Pastis. He.
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