‘Yes, God loves poets,’ he thought to himself. ‘Poets always fuck up, but God likes that.’He longed to see Amanda too, and suddenly this bothe...ed him. He still needed a woman, now that he relinquished the idea of buying the Porsche, and Amanda remained the only person he really knew. He missed being in bed with her, her velvety skin like butter as they lay on their backs in the old South Orange home, his fingers roaming and tickling her breasts, her legs, her tired arms. He tried to mute these. When they separated, Rob saw that her irises were glowing."Come on, you," he said, taking her hand and drawing her to his bedroom. "Let's take care of that thirst of yours. Then we can talk." She purred as she was led toward the door.Sitting on the bed, he tugged off his sweatshirt to keep anything from spilling on it. Elaina growled at the exposed flesh but allowed him to pull her to his lap regardless, sitting astraddle his thighs and resting her head on his shoulder. He inhaled deeply,. More

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