The subway car felt somewhat oppressive. Announcements about arriving and upcoming stations intermittently broke through the murmur.
Office workers in suits made agitated phone calls on this weekend day.
Young couples, clearly students, chatted sweetly about where to go next for fun.
There were also families, looking harmonious, patiently answering the curious questions of their children. And then there were middle-aged men and women with faces clouded by worry, perhaps troubled by the trivialities of life.
Sam took all this in with a sweeping glance. But now, more than the diverse tapestry of human life around him, he found himself needing to focus on something—or rather, someone—else. Like the woman in his arms.
Zoe was like a warm piece of cake. Her touch was unimaginably soft and fragrant, dizzyingly intoxicating. It seemed that no man could hold her and remain unaffected.
