Close Harmony (Food Of Love 3)

But she had to shake her head.

“I think you’re wrong about him not being able to maintain an erection for penetration, though,” she said earnestly. “I think he can. But he has to work up to it.”

“Whatever,” drawled Milan. “I don’t want to talk about the man’s intimate sexual dysfunction.”

“Well, neither do I,” huffed Lydia, feeling cross at being drawn into a discussion that seemed deeply disloyal.

“Good. But it was okay not to use the condom? That’s what we really need to know.”

“It wasn’t necessary,” she admitted. “But you should have said something beforehand.”

“I couldn’t wait. And the last thing I wanted to think about was you in the sack with him.” Milan seized her hand and knitted their fingers tight together.

“I thought you weren’t the jealous type.”

“I’m not. But I don’t like to think of him satisfying you more than I do. I don’t like to think of that at all.”

“You’re such an egomaniac.”

“But you love me.”

“You’re bloody lucky that I do. Or I’d have killed you by now.”

He kissed her, soft and sweetly.

“Tonight it will be me who kills you,” he said. “With sex. Oh, look at your poor knees!”

He caressed the raw-rubbed patches.

“Oh God, carpet burn,” she said, squinting down at them. “Better wear trousers to tomorrow’s rehearsal.”

“You’d better stay on your back in bed tonight,” he said. “And that’s lucky, because it’s just where I want you.”

Chapter Four

“I think the interviews for the new Leader are overrunning,” replied Ben to Vanessa’s repeated complaint that the rehearsal was very late in starting. “I know they were doing them this morning and von Ritter’s obviously on the panel. I guess we just wait.”

He struck himself on the head with a drumstick, harder than he intended. The look on his face made Vanessa laugh then sigh.

“Idiot. Just because you were dropped on your head as a baby doesn’t mean you can reverse the process with a drumstick.”

“Ooh, you cheeky mare.” He brandished the drumstick in her direction. “Watch your step. There’s a lot of things you can do with this.”

“Like sticking it where the sun don’t shine?” she replied smartly.

He put it down and whacked discontentedly at a glockenspiel instead.

“It is a bit boring, isn’t it?” he conceded.

All around them, the orchestra players fussed and chatted and tuned their instruments for the nineteenth time. The noise became more deafening with every minute of lost practice.

“We could have had an extra half hour in bed,” grumbled Vanessa.

“Mmm.” The faraway bliss that dimmed Ben’s eyes put a smile back on her face.

“To sleep,” she said firmly. “There was quite enough of the other already.”

But the memory of it had put a glow in her cheeks and perked up her mood.