It's a couple days after the Dustin Roy job and you set a date to take Siobhan out for some Thai. When you came to Madame L'Infer's cathouse, she was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a black top with her favorite red leather jacket:
The drive downtown to Bangkok Crossing was filled with tunes, she took delight in controlling your radio. She found a song you both "car danced" to, what was it?
Her joking fades and she kisses your cheek, "You're sweet to protect them. I agree about not telling them, for what it's worth."
On the way out, she slips her hand into yours and walks close, her shoulder rubbing against you, smiling broadly and laughing as you head to your truck. On the drive there, she tries to climb down in the floorboard to get frisky. It's playfully tempting, not down and dirty, but she is eager to go down on you. Do you let her?
I feel better going Dutch. I know she makes money and really doesn't spend much, but I try to pay my own way when I can.
When she climbs down, I ruffle her hair, but don't do anything to stop her. It won't be easy, the logistics... I'm wearing jeans, and they're not loose, but I'll help how I can. Been a while since I've had sex in a moving vehicle, especially when I was driving.
"You're. Very. Hot. Bianca." she says, her voice barely a whisper as she confesses, "I've had a little crush on you since I met you."
Eventually when either of you come back up for air, she answers, "I'm glad I'm here, too."
Somehow Siobhan's conjured the feeling of love in you, Bianca. Not directed at her, not specifically. She's coaxing the emotion from you as a kind of "high" rather than casting a love spell on you. Which love, romantic love, do you remember most fondly?
Romantic love? Not much of that in my life, so not many choices. Caleb was possessed before we ever realized what should have been. I'm fond of Sasha, but it's not "romantic." I have to go back before to answer that question.
I'm what? 12? 13? First day of 7th grade, whichever. Lunch period, this 8th-grader, Jesse... Graves? Yeah, Jesse Graves. He comes up and sits next to me, starts talking. Nice guy, I thought, and he was just 'Hey, I'm Jesse...' I was in love. Seriously, that instant adolescent crushing crush, like the reason they call it a "crush". He flirted for like a week, then lost interest.
But wait, I'm not done... high school. Freshman year. There's Jesse Graves again, a Sophomore now, with all the secret knowledge of a year in this huge building and the mysteries of the social order. He scooped me up. Two months of bliss. Hand-holding, kissing, reprimands for PDA. Notes and "Mrs. Bianca Graves" written on the inside of my folders. Then, his dad got transferred. Fast. To... Chicago? I think Chicago.
So, there's a sense of loss, but nothing to ruin the memory. Which is good.