Finding himself almost dragged along into an empty room as Sarah watched them go, James's mind (and stomach) was a mass of contradictory feelings.<em>This is the perfect chance!</em>crowed one part of his brain, while another muttered quietly<em>Not now, not now, the risk is too great...</em>as he stumbled along the corridor after her, he was uncomfortably aware of both the water seeping down his stomach and into his pants, and his still - hard - ...errection.<em>Shit, shit shit shit,</em>another part of his mind thought,<em>she's going to find out what you've been thinking,</em>while another part replied back,<em>She was going to find out anyway! Let her know now!</em><br/><br/>So he stood there, trembling with what could be nervousness, embarrassment, or just the sensation of ice water trickling down his abs, as Angela rummaged through his closet humming to herself. "Ah, Angie... I have, uh..." he stuttered, carefully removing his shirt as he spoke. "I have, um, something to tell you..."<br/><br/><em>No! Don't do it!</em>came the impulse, and he found himself saying:<br/><br/>"...after dinner, so, uh, let's make this - um - quick, can we?"<br/><br/><em>You moron!</em>he thought to himself, his shirt in one hand, displaying his decent musculature (he worked out every day, mainly because he thought it made him more attractive than out of any tangible health benefit).<em>You had your chance and you blew it!</em>Other parts of his head were replying,<em>Patience. The time is not right now. Stick with - stick with the plan...</em><br/><br/>He grinned nervously at her, trying not to watch her body as he had been doing almost all night now. "Ah, can you just hand me any shirt? I'm kinda hungry, I just wanna get back to the table..."<br/>