"Promise?"*"Promise."He moved slowly, yet eagerly towards me, until our lips almost met again. We held a distance, just enough to fade the line betwee... touching and not. Dancing and shifting, testing the space and our wills. They touched again and were consumed. It hungered and fed, lingered then broke. His head tilted back and offered me a vulnerable neck. I nuzzled under his jaw, tasting the salt of his tears and the subtle scent the rain water left on his skin. He growled, purred and moaned,. . you're the guy they call Chef," Niles said. "You used tospend a lot of time in my bar." Maybe," Chef said. "That period of my life is pretty hazy. I didthink you looked familiar though." My life is a ruin," Niles almost sobbed. "I own a bar, but as soon asI get back there I'm closing the place down. I can't spend one moreday feeding people's alcohol addictions." Odd," Chef said, "usually the painting helps people. I have neverheard of it ruining a life. You say you own a bar. What you really. More

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