He came for me in a blur of movement. Transformed before your eyes from the warrior of nightmares to the lover of dreams. They both nodded, and we began to work our way around the bar toward the women's bathroom, which had a large piece of cloth suspended from the ceiling, covering the door. I took the receiver from Micah, while he tried not to give me worried eyes.
But it was my hand that left his back and traced his face, cupped his cheek, pressed my body deeper against his, so that I felt him stretched tight and firm under his clothes. Strong enough to shake my body against the seat and leave my hands clawing at the air, as if I needed something to hold on to, anything to hold on to. It was almost a waltz, and he did three quick turns across the stage, and we were back at the chair. I didn't usually like Buzz much, but tonight I was glad to see him.
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