“He touches me with every look he gives me, and she touches me with every word she tells me.”

“Well that woman has crept into my mind. Somehow, she has stolen my very sanity because now I want her hands on me. I begged for her to touch me until I, too, lost myself in the beauty of a fantasy- a fantasy I still don't fully understand.”

“I want you to play for me,” he told her as he passed the violin back.Her elegant fingers gripped the neck of her Stradivarius as she gently pulled it up and rested it on her left shoulder. She turned her chin, so it sat perfectly in the chin rest at the base of the lower bout.“What would you like me to play?” she asked, closing her eyes.“Something you want me to hear.”

“When I fuck you, Gemma, I want your eyes open, looking right at me. I've never hidden who I am from anyone I've touched, and I won't start with you.”

“She is no longer here, but he won't let her go. So, where does that leave me? Well, that's easy. I'm left alone.”

“Let me inside.” Gently biting her bottom lip, he pleaded, “Let me inside, and never let me go.”

“Why on earth had I agreed to this? Oh, that's right. He suckered me into it with his manipulating words and those damn dimples.”