By the time five o’clock rolled around, Clayton had finished the bulk of his work and was too mentally drained to continue. He went upstairs and ran himself a bath. He added some bath salts and swirled them around with his hand to help them dissolve then, leaving the tap running, he went into his bedroom and undressed.
Naked, he took a quick look out the window, at the street below, before pulling the curtains closed. Only then did his thoughts return to his new neighbour. He had to meet him. Had to find out about him.
He stepped into the bath, which was slightly too hot. He ran some more cold water and when the temperature was tolerable he immersed himself in its luxurious caress. Leaning his head back against the porcelain edge, he closed his eyes, and let his imagination take him over
