“Bullshit’s part of touring.”

         How could I tell him I didn’t like him making so much of his body available to the public?

         “But you could be a bit more discreet.”

         “Discreet.”  He laughed at me now.  “This is rock-n-roll, Mags.  It don’t understand discreet.”

         I felt small tears prickling at my eyes again.  I turned my face away so he couldn’t see me crying.

         Gently turnng my face back, he caught a single tear on his fingernail.  It sat there, a small perfect bubble of me on the end of his ring finger.

         Looking across his raised hand, he put my tear in his mouth, his unblinking eyes daring me to protest in some way.  A surge of heat ran through me.  In my peripheral vision I caught sight of Otis.  I looked across to him and he turned his back on us. 

         “We need to get back.”

         His lips fell on mine, engulfing me in a passion I could no longer avoid.         

         I knew three things.

         I was tired.

         I was one of the many women who loved him.

         I was married.