Chapter 91

Mark didn’t hear me come back into the bedroom, and he seemed to be muttering to himself. He had smoothed the wrinkles out of the bed and had his sweatpants on again. Earlier I had stood before him in all my naked glory, and his cock had lain flaccid against his thigh; he hadn’t been affected by it at all.

Well, granted he had just climaxed quite satisfactorily, if the way he’d groaned and shivered and held onto me had been anything to go by, but still, he’d made no effort to touch me or even look at me.

Now I felt somewhat self-conscious, and I pulled on my undershorts and trousers, my back to him. “Did you say something, Mark?”

“Uh, no. Listen, Mann, were you serious about doing this again?”

I zipped up my fly, asking casually over my shoulder, “This?”

“Forget about it, it was just the champagne talking.”