The feel of his lips on mine stopped my words, froze my mind. I was across the river, and I didn't actually do a lot of crime scenes here. My wanting and denying that want, that helped make this moment what it was. What are you talking about? Why should Jean-Claude care about how I clean up? The phone rang.
He doesn't need a girlfriend, because he thinks he already has one. So you've become like a what, a nympho? Trust Bert to find just the right thing to say. I expected to feel the last bit of it spill between us, like draining the last drop of wine from a cup, but that drop remained. No preface, no long explanation, just say it.
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