She waited for him just outside the door and she took one of his hands and held it after he fell into place next to her. His hands were always so warm and hers seemed to soak up the warmth. They were strong and calloused from work and just the way Anya liked a man's hands to be. She knew what those hands could do. The memories brought a small smile to her face.
"How was the flight out?" she asked as they headed for the elevator.
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