I’ve never known a man as beautiful as Barrons. I’ve never been with anyone as sexual and uninhibited. Sex is Jericho Barrons’ religion. He worships, he defiles. He fucks with the single-minded devotion of a dying man in search of God. He leaves no part of a woman untouched. When he’s inside me, the world ceases to exist. On the floor, on the counter, on the Chesterfield, across a chair, in his study over the desk, it was as if we were the only two people alive. Nothing mattered. The world could have ended and neither of us would have given a damn as long as the bookstore remained standing
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