‘Oh, yes – good idea.’ I lay back while Tom rinsed my head with the shower attachment. ‘Actually, they have some kind of thing going on.’
‘Do they? I thought she was with that muscly bloke.’
‘Ryan? Yeah, him too. She’s keeping her options open, apparently.’
‘Fair enough. So you think Maria might want to top you?’
‘That’s what she’s into, according to Katie. She tops guys for money, and girls for fun.’
‘Interesting. Well, you know, she’s a professional. She’ll be absolutely up to speed with consent and boundaries. I bet she’s a safe pair of hands. And even if she isn’t, I’ll be there. Perhaps I’ll let her demonstrate on me.’
‘Would you?’ I sat up straight, fascinated by this idea. ‘Would you be into that?’
‘Well, no. Not really. But I’ll try anything once, especially if it helps you.’
I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. A soap bubble burst on it.
‘You’re all heart,’ I said.
The kiss was repeated, deeper and with embracing.
‘So,’ he said softly, ‘that didn’t freak you out earlier? Getting whipped with my belt until you had to safeword?’
‘No…not freaked out exactly. It was quite…emotional…though.’
‘I’m really…I’m quite awed, to be honest. You trusted me to stop…to not go too far. It’s kind of…humbling…in a way.’
I kissed him again.
‘You wouldn’t know humility if it popped out of these bubbles and slapped you,’ I teased, but I was touched really. Tom had feelings about us. Perhaps it wasn’t just kinky sex after all.
‘Well, that’s what’s so scary about it,’ he said, taking my hands and holding them against his chest. ‘My natural cockiness level has dropped a bit. I might need supplements.’
‘I don’t know about that. You’re very nice, when you aren’t being cocky. I might get to like you.’
‘Now that’s really scary,’ he said with a self-conscious laugh, looking away and retrieving the conditioner bottle. ‘Let’s finish off your hair.’
Later we were kneeling on the ottoman, in his and hers fluffy gowns, drinking wine from the minibar and looking out at the streetlife below. Saturday night was in full swing, and here we were, in the midst of it yet cocooned from it.
‘I’m going to open the window,’ said Tom.
‘Don’t, we’ll freeze.’
But he pulled up the sash and let in the chilly November air all the same. It was bracing for a few seconds, before I started shivering.
‘Drink your wine,’ said Tom. ‘It’ll warm you up.’
The night sounds came into the room – raucous shouts, squeals of laughter, snatches of song and sirens from afar. Directly below us, the muttering of smokers in the patio garden. My senses were sharp and I gloried in using them all to the full, especially smell, which was dominated by Tom’s delicious free cologne.
I could have knelt there forever, leaning against Tom, gazing into the city night, but my reverie was broken when he ducked right down and put his head out of the window, frowning.
‘What’s he doing here?’ he hissed.
‘Who?’
‘Judd Keane – council leader.’
‘Is he?’