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There was nowhere for them to run.Martine and I shared a glass of wine that evening, looking out over San Francisco from the balcony of her loft. We m...de small talk, avoiding what would come the next morning. From the chill of the city we retreated indoors, arm in arm.Standing on her Berber rug, under a Mondrian print and lit by tiny halogen lights, we kissed. I ran my fingers through her hair as her breath and lips warmed my mouth. Her hands traced my spine as we curled into each other.I. He groans into my mouth and I feel his tongue tangle with mine, battling together.He drags his lips away and kisses down my throat. “I have thought of this for days,” he murmurs. When he bit my neck, I hissed with pleasure, head tilting to one side to expose more of my flesh to his wandering lips.“Uh huh. Then why were you an asshole?” I gasp back, feeling his face move down into my right breast, pulling my already taut and humming nipple between his lips. My neck arches away from him and my. More

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