I was too rough. Shit, I said, softly and with feeling. Jean-Claude's hand pushed me back down, and helped my mouth find him again. I turned back and did that slow, horror-movie take, where you know what's behind you, but you just can't keep from looking.
51I watched his face above me, as his body worked in and out of mine. I was standing too close to the fighting to sightsee. We weren't pressed together, except for his hands on my waist, but we were one step away from it. I had to slam on my brakes and endure much horn blowing, and, if it hadn't been so dark, I'm sure I'd have seen some hand gestures.
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