I hadn't lived with it for years the way Nathaniel had. If he didn't want to date Jessica, fine, but he needed to date someone. It just fucking hurt. It tasted like his skin, sweet and clean, but it also tasted of blood, sweet copper pennies on my tongue.
Jean-Claude crawled closer to the end of the bed, the robe more framing his body like lingerie than hiding anything. The more we made, the more everyone made, though some of us got a higher or lower percentage of our fees. I had to close my eyes so I wouldn't keep staring at that pulsing, jumping . If there'd been a couch in the room, I would have used it, but there wasn't.
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