As he walked back toward his own house, Bret struggled with his conscience about his next move. Ordinarily, he would have showered, gotten something to eat, and settled in to watch any one of a number of play-off games on TV. The satellite made program selections much more complex than was necessary, he thought – kind of like fast food menu options these days. Too much information, and too many choices.
But Adrienne was spending the night in her newly painted room. And thanks to Bret, she had a completely unobstructed view of his den – the room in his home in which Bret felt most comfortable these days. . . the room where he spent most of his time. He wondered if she would take advantage of that view, and if he should make it worth her while to do so.
When she had told him how easy it was to see in the window, Bret had sensed only momentary discomfort in Adrienne, more like embarrassment for him than anything else. And the fleeting embarrassment he had felt was quickly replaced by arousal that his sexy new neighbor had watched him as he stroked himself in front of his window. He wondered if watching him had made her pussy wet – had she stood in the shadows and let her fingers wander down into her panties, stroking herself until she found the release the visual image of his hard cock made her crave? All the books said men were the visual members of the species, but Adrienne had not protested when he'd told her not to bother with buying a shade on his account. Was that her way of sending him a subtle message?
Bret stripped off as soon as he got inside the house. With Cynthia gone, there would be no one to bitch at him for leaving clothes lying around, and he'd have plenty of time to get the house back in shape before she got back. He surveyed the contents of the refrigerator briefly before grabbing a beer and heading to the shower.
The combination of the steamy shower and pondering Adrienne's curves without her clothes on gave him a hard-on, and he was tempted to take matters in hand then and there. But he'd been in the shower long enough that the water would soon begin to cool, and it was time to get out.
As he passed the thermostat in the hall, he kicked the heat up a little. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and no shirt. The house was well insulated, and had no drafts to speak of. As he entered his den, he turned the stereo on. Slow, mellow jazz. . . very nice mood music. The drapes on the picture window were still open. Bret approached it, and looked up. Adrienne's study was dark.
The decision had already been made. He sat down on the leather couch to wait.
Adrienne
Renting this house had been one of her wiser decisions, Adrienne thought as she soaked in the claw foot tub in the bathroom. She had poured herself a glass of wine and had a mellow jazz CD playing on the small stereo as she half laid and half floated in lavender scented bubbles. Finally, a tub she in which she could actually stretch out fully and soak all the aches from her tired and cramped muscles. She mentally reviewed her "to-do" list for making the house habitable, and allowed herself to feel proud of what she had accomplished so far. Her eight year marriage to Nick had almost completely stripped her of any shred of self-esteem, and it was exhilarating to take charge of something again, instead of constantly deferring to someone else's judgment about what needed to be done.
She poured herself another glass of wine as she considered all the changes in her life in the last few months leading up to her divorce – the arguments over petty things, spending night after night alone, entire days of no verbal communication with Nick at all, even though his facial expressions and body language made clear his disdain for her. . . culminating in her discovery of him and his lover together in their bed one afternoon when she had gone home early from work to make his favorite supper. That had been the last straw. She had moved in with Zoe that very afternoon, and her best friend had held her wordlessly as Adrienne sobbed and screamed her agony through the night. Zoe had been the one to find the divorce attorney and it had been Zoe who went back to the condo to retrieve Adrienne's clothing and personal effects.
She came out of the reverie right before her chin went underwater. Her arms and legs felt like lead, and the water was lukewarm, the palms of her hands and soles of her feet wrinkly as raisins. It was time to get out. She toweled try, and put on her favorite silk robe. After getting a refill on her wine, she went upstairs to admire her handiwork in her new study, and inflate the air mattress she had brought to put under her sleeping bag. Camping in her own house, she thought as she smiled to herself. This was about as close to camping as Adrienne got. She was definitely a city girl.
Since the bay window in the study faced east, Adrienne knew that for most of the day she would have adequate natural light with which to work. She had already brought over the floor lamp she got from Grandma's when all the grandchildren and other relatives had finished taking what they wanted from the estate. She intended to use it by her desk when she arranged the furniture in the room. She knew what the paint looked like in natural light and was anxious to see if the color mellowed by lamplight as she thought it might. She clicked on the lamp and was delighted with what she saw. She played with placement of the lamp in the room, unplugging and re-plugging the cord as necessary, and admiring the shadows cast by the glow of the lamp. Twice she changed her mind abut where she wanted to put her desk, and wound up dragging the boxes of books out of the way to try and get a good visual image of how things would look. The room had gotten warm, and she decided to open the window just a crack to let in some fresh air.
