I knew what was expected of me, and I told myself there was no reason not to.
I had the feeling there would be no panic now—not with her.
After all, I wasn't the one making the advances. And she was different from any woman I'd ever met before.
Perhaps she was right for me at this emotional level.
I slipped my arms around her. "That's different," she cooed. "I was beginning to think you didn't care."
"I care," I whispered, kissing her throat. But as I did it, I saw the two of us, as if I were a third person standing in the doorway.
I was watching a man and woman in each other's arms.
But seeing myself that way, from a distance, left me unresponsive.
There was no panic, it was true, but there was also no excitement—no desire.
"Your place or mine?" she asked. "Wait a minute." "What's the matter?"
"Maybe we'd better not. I don't feel well this evening." She looked at me wonderingly.
"Is there anything else?... Anything you want me to do?... I don't mind..."
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