"What do you really think of me?" she dared herself to ask.
Wow. What a brave question.
"I mean, no bullshit." She said, surprising me , "You can say anything you want, just…I can take it. I want to know."
I sat back in my chair, folding my hands and resting them on my chest, letting her stew for a moment while I let my eyes wander over her. She waited, endlessly, as if she were being mentally tortured.
"You are good." I began, "But you want to be bad. Not very bad, just slightly. You think of yourself as plain and nothing extraordinary. You prefer being in the background, behind the scenes. You hate lots of attention. You're very smart and that scares you. Your brain keeps stupid boys away so you believe yourself undesirable. You are extremely sensual and curious and want to explore your desires but have not had a chance to do so. You are warm and loving. Your body is gorgeous. Your touch is soft and shy, and innocent. Your voice is deep and throaty and sexy as hell."
She had tears in her eyes, hearing my assessment. She said nothing but just looked at me in wonder.
"Oh." I added, "And you are a klutz and talk too much."
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