“Humans do not stare at other humans’ buttocks,” he reprimands. His overly correct speech and uptight demeanor make me want to ruffle his feathers further. He opens the door and steps back to allow me through. Another humanism, being a gentleman, but I am far from being a lady. I lightly trail my fingers over the zipper of his slacks as I enter the room. His breath sucks in, and I feel the angry heat of his glare. And his lust. I can always feel someone’s lust.”