” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. ‘Ah, grandpére. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. ” “I don’t want absolution. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. ‘So are you. ’ ‘Yes, do.
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