‘Like someone going over the top with you… and me not stopping them.’ She paused, and the silence in the dark room became almost oppressive to m.... ‘Like me going over the top, hurting you because you don’t know your real limits yet.’ My mouth was faster than my brain once more. ‘Like Bao did with you?’ This time, the silence was even longer. When she answered, her voice was rough, and I had to strain my ears to understand her. ‘Like Bao did with me.’ I turned over so I was looking at her, even. Though I wrote erotic stories, they were really love stories, more like R rated movies, but I was imagining someone who I could give myself to like I do to my writing and knew it could never be Angelo and that was painful for me. Why couldn't I change like Angelo did? What the fuck was wrong with me? It was hard to leave and know I didn't want to go back home. I cried in the elevator as I carried my suitcase, now with new clothes and jewelry Angelo had bought. I stayed that first night with my. More

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