She half-awoke angrily, as if someone had
shoved her.
"Leave me be, Juan!" she grumbled. She moved instinctively, pushed one hand out in front of her to keep him away. The other gathered a clump of skirt and stuffed it between her legs, her fingers splayed like iron rungs on a grate.
He was a
sly jackal, that one, and as horny as a goat. A virgin of thirteen when they married, she'd learned quickly not to fall asleep with her back to him.
"Stay away, animal," Yolanda mumbled back into sleep.
