She had tears in her tears, and the man had finally released her. She lowered her head and started to take off her jacket. She said in a lifeless tone, “OK. I will give it. Just take whatever you want.”
As you make your bed, you must lie on it. He was right.
Tristan stepped back and folded his arm, seeing her throw away her jacket. Her naked round shoulders under the dim ceiling light had the gloss of a teenager’s skin and the effect of an oil painting.
She was searching for the zipper of the dress but couldn’t find it. He felt funny and reminded her, “No zipper in this kind of dress. You don’t undress. A man rips it.”
Her hands jerked. He said with ease, “Let me guess. You are so generous suddenly. So you plan to pay it all tonight and have nothing to do with me afterward?”
Being seen through, she raised her head and asked awkwardly, “Then how many times does it have to be?”