“Oil Baroness.”
“You know what they call me?” she murmured, face mashed into the cradle. DirtyMasseur 21 01 10 Rachel Starr Oil Baroness...
Rachel’s eyes opened. “How did you—?” “Oil Baroness
He smiled. “Already did.”
He began at her trapezius, thumbs pressing in slow, deep circles. She winced once — a hairline fracture of composure — then relaxed. The tension bled out of her like crude from a cracked wellhead. thumbs pressing in slow
She walked toward the window, the lights of a hundred nodding donkeys blinking across the dark plain. Behind her, the door clicked shut.