She counted four bullet wounds and two longer scars that could only have been caused by surgery and sutures. Two of the bullets had hit him in the chest, one in the belly and the last in his left ribcage. ‘That one went all the way through,’ he said as he captured her fingers against his chest. Placing her other hand on the side of his face, she felt her heart soften and suddenly wanted to be in his arms. ‘The police told me you had gotten drunk and driven off the ramp. They said they found a whiskey bottle in the car.’ ‘You know me better than that,’ he whispered, watching her eyes intently. ‘That’s what I told them. I told them they were wrong. No one would listen to me.’ ‘That’s the nature of a cover-up, Baby,’ he said, nuzzling against her hand. ‘God, I missed you, Camille. All I could think about was getting back to you.’ She sat back on her heels, pulling her hands down to rest on his thighs. ‘I missed you too, Niko. My world stopped that day. I tried to find out what happened. Doris wasn’t dominating the situation but was relaxed by just lying there with me naked. We played that touchy, feely, teasing game. We had all weekend to fuck so it was not an urgent priority. Doris whispered in my ear, “I think you like me doing this to you.” “I do, and I think you like it, too. This is not the first time you have done this with a guy.” I whispered back. Why we whispered to each other, I had no idea. “You know the answer to that is ‘no’,” she replied. “I have a feeling that you can recognise that this isn't something your usual little tarts do with you. I am guessing, but with them, it’s a quick fuck or rumble and it’s all over in five or ten minutes. Besides, you probably do it on the back seat of a car.” “Yes, you're right on the money Doris. There is no finesse with those cheap tarts. They know what’s expected of them and they just go ahead and do it.” “Do you have a girl friend?” Doris enquired as she stared into my eyes, looking for a reaction. “No girlfriend,.
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