The elephant in the parlor. Unfortunately, it made perfect sense and described the direction of his thoughts exactly. There were so many things he should be thinking of right now, but it was as if his brain had stopped working entirely. As if the only thing he saw, the only thing he could think of, the only thing—period—was that gods-be-damned elephant. Otherwise known as making love to Willow. How could he imagine something he’d never actually done? How could he know to the very depths of his soul, how wonderful it would feel? All those jokes about men thinking with their other head suddenly made perfect sense. He’d never allowed himself the freedom to consider sex, and as a scholar and philosopher intent on learning, he’d kept all those potential desires entirely under control. Now that he knew he could turn that control loose, he felt as if he’d freed a beast that might devour him. Hunger gnawed at him, but it wasn’t a need for food that had his cock hard and his balls aching.
