Tugged down the hem of her blousy tank and looked around the room as if he’d said nothing. His gaze dropped to her arms, moved up to her shoulders ...nd collarbones. Her neck and face. Nic had barely aged. Never let herself go. Never settled, never got too comfortable, never lost the fire of youth. Took part in protests, knew all the artists in town, all the leaders. Lived on the edge of everything.But sometimes… maybe… in reach.He curled his fingers into fists, his blood raging with. At least not girls like Jessica... or maybe like Jessica used to be, he thought sadly, painfully.He wished he could see them. Was she lying on top of him, straddling him with her legs open? Was she completely naked or had she just lifted her dress up over her hips, taken in by the liquor and Bill Dodge's smooth, honey-dripping line of bull? His tortured mind formed a thousand lewd obscene pictures of his darling Jessica lying in the darkness across the room, her dress pulled up over her hips. More

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