Melanie Harlow

I was half drunk, totally frustrated, seriously angry, and I wanted to be alone so I could hate myself in peace. (And probably jerk off while I did it.)

I had a piece of him no one else had. I had a truth about him no one else knew. I had one of his secrets.
I wanted them all.
For the first time, I wanted to know every dark corner of someone’s mind. I wanted to taste every hidden place on his body. I wanted to stay with him.
I wanted not just more, but all.
Frankly, it was a little terrifying.

How was it possible, in a city of millions, to feel so achingly alone?