“I still want to be with you,” Dallas said. “I still love you.”   And now we’re making love. We’re soaked in perspiration, entwined in the bed sheets of Abel’s room. I call out to Dallas and he answers with another forceful thrust. I moan, dig my fingers into the flesh of his back, wrap my long legs around his waist, pull him closer as he whispers my name: “Dessa.” His lips move again my neck, “Dessa.” They move against my...