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Chapter 7

Three, I can begin dialogue with him. Something sweet and charming and harmless, like, “Darsey, is the wind keeping you up?”

“Yeah. It woke me up and I can’t get back to sleep.”

“Did you get lonely?”

“Something like that.”

“Speaking of somethings. Is that you between my legs, guy?”

Silence. Nothingness. Just darkness within the room.

Four, I can lie motionless against his frame and allow him to hold me with his one arm. He can fondle my nipple if he wants. He can blow on my neck if he desires, and press his pecs against my back. And I honestly don’t care if he keeps his firm and veined erection between my legs, snug there, hidden. Truth is, if he wants to spend the night with me, all night, he can. I won’t push him away. Not at all. He can stay until the sun comes up, or longer. Just the two of us in the queen-sized bed. Like boyfriends or lovers or husbands. Men who are coupled.