I gasp at how tender it is, he watches my face as he strokes my sensitive flesh, ‘So responsive today.’ I stare up at him in disbelief, ‘Did you...��’ I can’t even finish the sentence as he twists my nipple gently between his fingers and I cry out, his arm anchors me firmly to his body preventing even a thought of escape. ‘You are very responsive, even in sleep dear Clara.’ He still watches me as his hand trails down my body, I clench my thighs together unwilling to allow him the satisfaction,. Instead, it seemed like a rather barren guest room. All of her carefully gathered trinkets were gone, packed away and already sent to San Diego. Gone also were the wall hangings and the framed paintings and prints that had covered her walls. Gone, even, was her quilt, a gorgeous blue-toned handmade heirloom that had been her grandmother's. The suitcases, sitting ajar on the floor, made me sure that if I looked in the closet, I would find only a few empty hangers, instead of the brilliant,. She bolted into the bedroom, then stopped in the door, blushing, her hands full. "Wasn't expecting company, darling. While I'm in here, I'm gonna change. There's some bourbon over there, and should be ice in the little bar refrigerator. Make yourself comfortable." I loosened my tie, feeling the heat in my groin, trying not to sneak looks into her bedroom. But when I did, I couldn't see her anyway.I was sipping on ice water when she came out. The hair was down, she wore five inch spike heels,. It’s uncharted territory, and I’m not real good at navigating stuff like this,” I said.“Okay, okay,” he said. “But can I ask you something?”“Sure, I guess,” I said.“Are you saying that we’re friends again? I mean this is not just a matter of us burying the hatchet and calling things even, but actually friends again?” he said.“I think so,” I said. “What do you say, think, want?”“You know damn well what I want, big guy,” he said. He came at me, not to me, but at me and offered me his hand. I took.