Shake, tremble, vibrate, with a slight rapid motion.
He was sitting back, his hands tapping idly at the edge of the dinner table.
"I do have one little...idiosyncrasy, I guess you could call it," she began. This was it: all or nothing. She was pretty sure--but you never can tell for sure until...
"What's that?"
"I like to dominate men." She watched him intently. His knuckles curved slightly, but otherwise he didn't show much of a reaction.
"Meaning?"
Something about the way he said that: now she knew. She leaned over the edge of a table, and said, in a confidential tone, "I think you know what I mean."
He sat up, and strangely that only seemed to make him shrink back more from her. His thumbs curled underneath the table to grip it lightly. "Yes," he said slowly, at last, nodding his head but never taking his eyes off of her, "yes, I think you're right." He took a deep breath, and let it out, unevenly and haltingly.
Copyright (c) 1998 {hamlet}Ophelia