“What do you want to talk about, Jessica?” he asked impatiently.“Anything you want.” I said.“I want to fuck you.” He said, his light brown...eyes stared into mine with a pleading look.“No.” I said pointedly.“Why not?” He sort of whined.“Because… I don’t feel like it.” I said. It was obvious that I was lying.“Ok, fine.” He thought for a second.“Why don’t you let me give you a massage?” It was a truly desperate move, but I let it slide.“Ok, but shoulders only.” I said strictly. I sat on the floor. It was more than quite nice, really.What's this? she thought, her finger snagging on something between a couple of books.Emma soaped her body under the hot spray of the shower. The shower curtain was only half-pulled; she liked to look at herself in the mirror while she showered. At intervals she stepped out to rub away the condensation.On the windowsill, her mobile jingled. She stepped out of the shower and dried her hands. A text message from Alex. With a picture attachment. She grinned in. More

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