“Titch, it’s just different. It’s work. I get paid for it. There’s nothing to it.” He exhales before glancing over at me. “Look, when we ran into each other and ended up having sex—that happened, and I wanted it to. I wanted to fuck you, it’s all I could think about from the moment you got in that cab, and then once we started, I couldn’t get enough of you.” Pausing, he gently rubs his hand over my leg. “That was the kind of feeling that makes your eyes roll back in your head. It was organic. What I do at work, it’s just the mechanics. There is nothing there. At. All.”
