OK it’s an excuse, on my part at least, I just want to touch you. This may kill me by the end of the day, why do I say such silly things? In the car...I drive, you rest your hand on my leg, teasing me, I make you take it back. Rules are rules. As soon as I do I kick myself, mentally obviously, what the hell am I thinking? You want to touch me, I want to touch you, we break every other bloody rule we set, why not this one as well? Because you warned me this would happen of course. That you’d want. He had a dull ache in his head and it hurt a little to breathe. What the hell happened to him? He turned his head and frowned in further confusion. Pop Tart. She was sitting in a plush armchair near the bed to his left, asleep. Honey blond hair was pinned behind her head, but a few strands were loose against her cheeks, looking soft and silky and totally touchable. She wore a long grey dress and a white sweater over it. The glasses perched on her cute, upturned nose hung precariously to the. More

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