He knows what she does with him is nothing new, that a hell of a lot of other guys paid a hell of a lot for a lot less, but he likes to that it was. He likes to think that when she's with him she's untouched by all others except him. He likes to think that when she's with him it was something more then just her thanking him in the only was she knows how for saving her life. Maybe it is, but damned if he'd ever ask her.
But it has to mean something. The little things that she does around him tell him that he was something more to her. He never paid her, not that he ever had to pay for it, but she offered herself freely. Of course he didn't know what she was like with other guys but when she was asleep next to him he couldn't help but wonder if she smiled at the other men like she did at him or laugh the way she does. He wonders if she looks into their eyes when she's getting close and clings to them after when they make love. He wonders if they know how good she looks in a mans t-shirt or how she hums when she brushes her teeth. They cant, he finds himself saying, they cant know those things because she doesn't do those things around them. Only him.
He knows that she'll never quit, not that he would ever ask her. She's happy with her life that that's what matters to him. All these thoughts are running through his head as he tries to sleep. She's been out like a light for an hour now but he cant turn his brain off. He cant stop thinking about tomorrow, because tomorrow they both have jobs to do. Jobs that most people don't know or want to know about and he doesn't know when he'll see her again. If he sees her again.