Distant James came home from working on Wednesday strangely tense and quiet.  He was intense as he made love to me that night, his eyes full of…something.  I couldn’t identify it, but it worried me.  And going to bed without him ever clearing it up worried me even more. My worry didn’t let up the next morning when I woke to find him turned away from me.  He was nude, a whisper of a sheet playing low on one dusky hip.  Even concerned, I had to admire that sleek play of muscle along his naked side.  I never got to see this side of him.  I stroked his hip with a hand.  He flinched away, still sound asleep.   My first instinct was to back off, to give him space.  I could well understand the need for space.  But I was beginning to understand him well enough to know that space wasn’t what he wanted, or even what he needed.   I pressed my body against his back, rubbing my hand over that sexy golden hip.  I nuzzled into his neck.
