Fancy slipped into the cap, if she where to hold her hand to her chest she would have felt her heart racing. Not because she was nervous or scared but because she loved this, the thrill of the hunt, of catching her prize. When he slipped into the cab she leaned towards him her hand resting on his leg and her lips soft on his earlobe as she whispered, “Je ne peux pas attendre pour vous joindre dans le lit.”