Rough sex or even his course, objectifying words, I could handle. His refusal to talk about us, grated. I left at three, unable to work and unwilling ...o spend a minute more torturing myself, imagining him packing his bags. My unease only grew as I got closer to home. Pent up breath burst from my lungs when I spotted his old Porsche on our street. I didn’t let my relief deter me, though.“We need to talk,” I said. “Even if you don’t think so.”I’d found him in the kitchen doorway, heading to the. Like something I shouldn’t do, and therefore something the bad boy part of me drove me to do. It reminded me of the warming sensation I felt when pictures were taken of me naked.Without much delay, Richard’s hands ended up on my little posterior as I stood in front of him. “Check out that sweet ass, fellas,” he said. Alarm bells were ringing in my head; I knew he meant that in a sexual manner, especially from the way he was grasping my buttocks. At the same time, I couldn’t help but being proud. More

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