He glanced back at his car, and at Louie. I understood why, in part. Animals, Zerbrowski, animals. Nathaniel was the least dominant person I'd ever met.
Maybe a little tighter, a little more intimate, but not much. But no, Richard wasn't that aware of his body, at least not for seduction. He'd braided his hair so it looked as professional as ankle-length hair can, and he was reading back issues of some music magazine that he had a subscription to and had fallen behind on reading. He'd been thrown from less than eight feet onto a bed, and he was breathless, frozen while he recovered.
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