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"
You
’
re
intoxicated
by
my
very
presence
.
"
He
was
grinning
that
playful
smirk
again
.
"
I
can
’
t
argue
with
that
,
"
I
sighed
.
There
was
no
way
around
it
;
I
couldn
’
t
resist
him
in
anything
.
I
held
the
key
high
and
dropped
it
,
watching
his
hand
flash
like
lightning
to
catch
it
soundlessly
.
"
Take
it
easy
-
my
truck
is
a
senior
citizen
.
"
"
Very
sensible
,
"
he
approved
.
"
And
are
you
not
affected
at
all
?
"
I
asked
,
irked
"
By
my
presence
?
"
Again
his
mobile
features
transformed
,
his
expression
became
soft
,
warm
.
He
didn
’
t
answer
at
first
;
he
simply
bent
his
face
to
mine
,
and
brushed
his
lips
slowly
along
my
jaw
,
from
my
ear
to
my
chin
,
back
and
forth
.
I
trembled
.
"
Regardless
,
"
he
finally
murmured
,
"
I
have
better
reflexes
.
"
He
could
drive
well
,
when
he
kept
the
speed
reasonable
,
I
had
to
admit
.
Like
so
many
things
,
it
seemed
to
be
effortless
to
him
.
He
barely
looked
at
the
road
,
yet
the
tires
never
deviated
so
much
as
a
centimeter
from
the
center
of
the
lane
.
He
drove
one
-
handed
,
holding
my
hand
on
the
seat
.
Sometimes
he
gazed
into
the
setting
sun
,
sometimes
he
glanced
at
me
-
my
face
,
my
hair
blowing
out
the
open
window
,
our
hands
twined
together
.
He
had
turned
the
radio
to
an
oldies
station
,
and
he
sang
along
with
a
song
I
’
d
never
heard
.
He
knew
every
line
.
"
You
like
fifties
music
?
"
I
asked
.
