But I was alone.
Oh, I’d lived with Kevin because he’d invited me. By sharing his place I’d managed to save money. He was good in the sack, too, and I did have needs, after all. That was okay, right?
Alone. Living with a man, but never feeling him. Never letting him touch my soul. Never really firing his blood with my body. Never once had he looked at me like Mr. Bacon did in my dreams. There, I’d been the object of lust and desire so powerful I’d been stripped, f****d, and told that I was no longer a person but his personal property. I’d loved it. That was what was nagging at me: I’d loved that feeling. The idea that I could instill such ravenousness was something I’d never experienced, and now I realized I wanted to. More than anything in the world I wanted men to stare at me with hung
