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15: A few more seconds

I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.

Honore de Balzac

His hands are in his pocket and he has a not so happy look on his face as he demands, "What part of come 'find me' did you not get gatita?"

"The part where you became a needle in a fucking haystack!" I retort which makes me feel good and want to give myself a high five.

"Sassy gatita, the needle might be small but a slight pierce will make you bleed." He counters crudely.

I swallow hard and look away because to an extent I know he doesn't mean this literally and I think I know what's he's talking abo

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