.." His eyes widened a little. "You're sharing my arousal, aren't you?" Uh-huh. Feels good." I won't tell you his thought. It wasn't nice. "Sara's, to.... If arousal were measured by temperature, yours would be in the red zone, but Sara's would be blowing the lid off. She's seriously needy, Dad."He pondered my statement, I guess. His thoughts were so fragmented I couldn't make any sense out of them. I'd noticed this pattern a lot lately when I read Dad's thoughts."What are you thinking?" I asked.. Sometimes I merely left her there. It was torture enough when the blood flowed back into the numbness when she was released. Anne and I eventually drifted apart-I assume she had the tattoo removed or disguised-and Julie died in a car accident on her way to pick me up at the airport, proving once again as my former employer likes to remind us that flying is safer than driving. I flew literally millions of miles, including Viet Nam, without a scratch, and she is crushed by a drunk on the approach. More

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