swallowed by words

I've always been a reader.  I love reading.  I love to read.  For enjoyment, that is--not out of necessity (picking up an instruction manual isn't exactly thrillseeking in my book, but good on you if it gets your heart pumping).
My guess is you just might enjoy it too (why are you reading this, for example?  Or any other blog, for that matter?  Enjoyment?  Instruction?  To pass the time?).  Have you read every single book you own?  (e-books count, friend).  Going to hazard a guess and say that's a no.   Seems those of us with a reading affliction (a terrible thing to waste!) have one or two tomes for that proverbial rainy day.  Going into a bookstore (or somewhere they sell books--new, used, indifferent) is always a guaranteed addition to the old home library. 
The day will come, we readers convince ourselves, that I'll read this book.
You'll see.
Within the past--well, less than--year, I've begun trying out audio books.  Yeah, I'm late to the game--but how awesome are they?  My prerogative is to read a book at a time--finish it, before starting the next one.  Helps keep the flow of the story linear, rather than confusing it with another book, or better yet from sticking with the better of the two books and neglecting the other to the point that I forget what was going on and have to start all over.
[for the record every book ever started gets finished.  there is no turning back or putting down or giving up.  finish the story, man!]
But audio books have opened up a new format for me, whereby I can read a book and then in the car "read" another one.  I thought it would be much more difficult to focus and follow the story, but turns out that was an incorrect assumption (which, of course, makes a sump pump out of you and me . . . wait, that's not right.  It makes Forrest Gump out of . . . never mind).  I was wrong, it's great.   Pop the disc in the player, and go.
Now, here's the crux of the biscuit:
How do you read?
Quite often I find myself reading the words, and it's akin to taking a shower--the words are splashing down, and they are conveying their meaning, doing their job adequately, but it's a means to an end.  It's not a matter of failing to comprehend the story--pick up on nuances, etc.---but moreso failing to connect with it, become immersed in it, as if you were taking a bath. Is it the fault of the writer?  The reader?  Both?
The other day I found myself with the current auditory tale in the car and had a moment of clarity as a plot point was revealed and a smile crossed not only my lips but rippled through my mind as well.  Immediately thereafter I realized how deep the story had taken me, how far the words had swallowed my attention, the depths to which I had succumbed to the story's magic.
Completely, utterly, wonderfully enveloped. I had given myself entirely to the narrative.  So much so that when that "Ah-ha!" moment occurred, it shook me out of it and caused realization to set in: more often than not I'm taking a shower in words, and not a bath, when I'm reading.
Is that odd?
Do you do that when you read?  Do you lose yourself so totally, are you so engrossed, that you cease to exist and the story is all that remains, the ebb and flow of the narrative propelling you forward or back at the behest of the words you are reading?
Are words controlling you?
Are you hanging by a thread, by a word, the very next word that you rea