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Yes, you can buy it, butno, you can't. Yes, I'm going to help you: no, I won't. What was goingon? Felicity had never treated him this way before. She was offeringhim false hope in one hand and an empty promise in the other. He feltcheated, tricked, betrayed.I thought you liked me, he thought, feeling his heart sink with lonely,child-like hurt."I do," Felicity told him, as if he'd spoken the words aloud (which hehad, without realising it), "that's why we're having this conversation.I like you quite a lot, Robbie. Very few of my customers have shownsuch dedication over the years. Unfortunately, I can't simply give youthe answer to all your prayers. There are rules about these things. I'mnot a genie, I don't grant wishes. Get that part absolutely clear inyour mind. This is a place of business, Robbie, which means we have tostrike a bargain." A ... bargain?" The boy replied uneasily. The conversation was takingon rather a macabre tone, as if he was bartering for his soul. Readinghis. Those days of clumsy fumbling, days of exploration, of explosion.I remember the first time she pulled my hand toward her lips and took my middle finger in her mouth. She then guided that hand, finger slick with her saliva, down to her panties and past her waistband. She had taken to wearing sun dresses when we met. Looking back, I believe it might have been to afford me easier access to bare skin and cotton fabric.Her mom had a rule: As long as I see both of your heads through the car window you are okay. So we were very careful to sit upright in the front seat of my old coupe.I eased my hand down, following the curve of her mound until my slick fingertip felt the heat of her opening. Pausing there, I leaned in to kiss her, mouths opening just a bit, tongue tips dancing against each other. She rolled her hips forward against my hand and I made a curve of my middle finger, barely penetrating her. She leaned her head back against the fabric of the car seat and I kissed, nuzzled,.
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