Love was not the nice, neat, linear thing I'd wanted it to be. So I'll wait until I get home, so Clair won't have to explain why she's driving around with a werewolf in the car. Jean-Claude came to me, walking so that his hips rolled more than they should have. So could Jean-Claude, but it was Richard's thought that came the clearest.
I leaned against the cabinet and looked at her. She enjoyed watching them writhe, especially if they didn't want to do it, I said. What's wrong, Arnet? I asked. I didn't pull away.
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