“Do you think there are such things as accidents in this world?” you ask, and the beauty of your voice filling the empty room catches me off guard.
“Yes,” I tell you, gently pinching your n****e.
You cup your breast, covering it, and then you swat my hand, and I love these games we play.
“I see,” you say, and then you swallow. Your expression changes and I’m not sure I like this new version of you. You’re lost somewhere in that head of yours, just like I was before we made love, but I am clear now, and I need to pull you out.
“What is it?” I ask. I don’t like the look you’re giving me, and I have to make it stop.
“There’s something I need to tell you…” you say, and you bite your lip. You don’t meet my eye when you say it, and a lump forms in my throat, and why must women insist on sho
