Wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home. I swear that song was written about me.”“You’re not actually wearing a hat,” Libby pointed out. He ha... his arm draped loosely about Sasha’s neck by that point, giving Libby a constricting sensation in her chest.“Just a metaphor.” He winked again. “As well you know, smart girl like you.”His wanderlust, he explained, had taken him to the UK on the invitation of an English rocker with whom he had downed beers in a Chicago music club one spring night. “Told. Slipping the button through the hole, I spread the sides open and move my lips across her cheek and down her neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive areas under her jaw and at the base of her throat.Then I moved lower, across her upper chest and onto the tops of her breasts, kissing, licking, sucking. I slid a finger into the bra top of her bikini and ran it down underneath her tit, brushing her nipple. It was a rubbery pebble that stiffened at my touch. With my finger, I lifted it up above. More

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