Jean-Claude did not think I treated Nathaniel with enough respect for his position as my pomme de sang. I'd had the spot manipulated by hand and had it included in intercourse, but never quite like this. His rich, brown hair was nearly as curly as mine, and today his hair fell around his shoulders loose. I knew now, for dead certain, that there were worse things.
Sit him in a chair. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how I felt about watching him get pawed, or paw another woman. Don't hurt him, but get him out. I was dizzy for a second, and he got an image of the dead girl in the apartment before I pushed back.
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