I want this to be just the two of us. He laughed again, and raised up high on his knees, his hands on the back of the chair again. Anita, Anita, can you hear me? Anita! I felt him holding me, knew we were on top of the grave. Not in our minds, not merely our thoughts, or feelings, not even memories, but for a breath or two, a part of me slipped inside him, and a part of him slipped inside me.
I reached out to Jean-Claude. I nodded as if I understood exactly what that meant, then I offered him my hand. I pressed my breasts against the warmth of his back, one arm up and over his head so I could touch his hair. I've told you that I'd give almost anything to have someone look at me the way Nathaniel looks at you.
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