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Tell me what's on your mind."I sat there panting for a moment, staring back at her, feeling on the verge of tears. Tears of frustration and arousal. Tears of fear. What did she want from me? Why couldn't she just do what I wanted, what she knew I wanted? Why couldn't we repeat the events of last time without discussion?She looked sad as she turned towards the door. "I'll be downstairs Jen." She told me. "If you don't mind, I'll help myself to some more wine."She started to head for the door."Wait." I said.She stopped instantly, turning to look at me once again. I was still sitting on the bathtub, my legs spread wide, shaved smooth, and dripping with secretions. She raised her eyebrows questioningly at me."I... " I started, gulping. "I'd really like it if... if you would put the baby oil on me." Oh?" She said, walking a little closer. "And why is that?" Charlie," I said, nearly sobbing. "I don't... " Don't mince words Jen." She repeated. "Tell me what you want. What you need. Just. If I ever try to give you marriage advice, ignore it.” I gave him a wry smile. “Ha – thanks for the warning. I’ll, uh, I’ll get cracking with this.” He turned to leave and, again, I let me eyes rove across his rear view. Down boy. I forced myself to ignore thoughts of Adam, but my mind kept circling back to him sitting at his desk outside. Eventually I couldn’t take it any longer. With an hour and a half until he was due to report back to me, I decided to go out to lunch. Out of sight, out of mind … Or so I hoped. Lunch was uneventful, and I was back in the building by one thirty. As I walked toward my office, Adam looked up. I hadn’t realised that I was looking at him, but his eyes flashed and he smiled. I felt my lips turn up in response, automatically, without thinking. Realising, I broke the gaze and my smile, shrugged my shoulders and continued my stride until I reached my chair. I tried not to clock watch, but when there was a knock at my door I knew that he was exactly on.
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