Foreman let his head fall forward, and then turned to face Amber with an ironic look on his face, a slight smile softening his words. "I don't mind the cliffhanger if it'll save me the blue balls," he said, hoping she'd go along with the light joke at his expense. With a sigh, he settled back more comfortably, still holding Amber close, but with a softer, meditative cast to his features. "Maybe I wouldn't even mind walking out of here holding my coat in front of my pants, but we're going slow tonight, aren't we?" It was less a question than a statement, and a pleading one at that. As good as it felt to have Amber pressed up against him, with the occasional wriggle as she snuggled closer, Foreman couldn't forget how she'd ducked away from his hug in the Diagnostics office. That wasn't about people seeing them; that was about Amber, and about how comfortable she felt with him. Which wasn't very.

Foreman didn't think this story was revenge, at all, but it was definitely a tease that wasn't going to end well for him, and that wasn't fair. If Amber wanted to work him up because she was getting off on it too, and they got carried away, and one of them had to call a stop--that was fine. If Amber wanted to taunt him at home, get him close and then walk away, well, Foreman would be annoyed, but probably it'd be too hot to really bother him, when he could finish the job with a few strokes of his hand. But here, in public, where he couldn't do anything and Amber wasn't on the ride with him, all the power was in Amber's hands, and whether she'd thought it through or not, she was using it against him. "I wanna hear the story," he said, murmuring low enough for her ears only. "But I don't want to start something that we're not gonna finish. Not tonight."