“How do you feel?”
Joe was spread-eagled on the bed, appreciating the firm mattress and the view as Rachel dried her hair. “Pretty good, I have to say.”
She sat beside him and ran a finger through his chest hair. “You don’t feel a little guilty? You did just sleep with your friend’s little sister.”
“Ah. Should I feel guilty?”
Rachel pondered this for a moment. “Nah. It’s his own fault, he told me you were finally doing the art thing.” She leant forward and kissed his collar bone. “And I’m a big girl now.” She kissed a nipple. “And he can’t possibly hate you as much as Kevin.”
“Kevin?” Rachel didn’t answer, and, as she was working her way lower, Joe didn’t ask again.
Rachel kissed and teased and worked her way down until at last, “Bleh! Condom taste!” She looked like she’d sucked a bar of soap and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I need orange juice.”
Joe could just keep himself from laughing. “I’ll go and have a shower. Then maybe we can carry on.”
“Then you can take me around Manchester’s art shops, like you should have done yesterday. Then we’ll trawl the supply shops and restock you. Maybe we can look for studio space for you.”
“You don’t have to….”
“You need a new studio, and you need it soon. What else are you going to do today?”
She poked him with a sharp nail, “Maybe if you’re good and useful, we can do that tonight. Now go, shower. And we’ll go to your place and get you some clean clothes.”
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