I can't look at him. He's too... it hurts me. That he cares this much. That he's hurt. And he draws me into a hug soundlessly, my face pressed into hi... shirt. And it's a different kind of good. A warm, safe hug. And Spence really is like a big brother to me. And I feel my stomach churn for snapping at him. But I was so sick of everyone tiptoeing around me.He kisses the top of my head, letting out a long breath and I let him go with a sigh."I'm sorry Spence. I know... I know how you and.... I put my hand on your jeans, on your right thigh. ?Wait. What are you doing?? you blurt. I do not remove my hand but gentlystroke your forehead with the other one. You respond immediately, as you alwaysdo, arching your neck back, following the caress of my fingers as they travelover your forehead. This response is automatic, one of your stirring dances.It testifies only to your subordination before the rule of Eros and carnalpleasure, no more than that. Many men have taken you only in this way,. More

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