“Watch me.” As if I ever do anything else these days. He slips it between his lips and takes a slow, sensual drag. This time, he has the courtesy to blow the smoke out above my head. I feel mildly disappointed. “Here.” He hands it to me. “Not so much this time, magpie.” I like the way he watches my mouth as I slowly inhale. A few seconds later, smoke smoothly escapes my lips, coasting over the planes of his face. “Better,” he purrs. I smile, passing it back to him. He glances down at the red ring of lipstick around the filter and pauses. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I swear, I see
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