I obeyed but my joy in the sandwich had disappeared along with my saliva. I swallowed several times, trying to choke down the dry bread. He nestled his head into my shoulder and I felt his lips working along my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He was shirtless, his bare chest pressed along my arm, his skin cool against mine. The cold steel blade above my belly was warming, too.
   I heard rustling in front of the car, heard scraping and scuffling and heavy breathing, but his head kept me from seeing anything. 
   “Kiss me,” he said again and pressed his mouth against mine. His lips were firm, his breath warm along my cheek.
   There was a thump, something banged against the metal barrier and as suddenly as he had appeared, two more men clambered over the railing.
   One of them lost his balance and lurched against the Mustang, shaking the car. I could hear them even if I couldn’t see them.
   I was trying to breathe with his mouth pressed to mine.
   “Hey!” said the man with the knife, barely lifting his head to glare at the intruders.
   “Get a room,” replied the bigger of the men, brushing foxtails and bits of weed from his pant legs. “Where did he go?”
   My attacker leaned back a little bit, the hand holding the knife pressing a little harder against my breast bone.
   “Do I look like a give a shit where your buddy is?” 
   The big man had the grace to look a little embarrassed, noting the hand under my shirt.