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My body hair wasn’t, though, and Peter was moving across my chest with his tweezers, ensuring I’d be suitably hairless. I was so used to it I didn’t even flinch when he found a strand of hair. His hand smoothed over my skin with a wipe after every tug.
“You’re very smiley today,” he said, giving me a little grin.
“Huh?” I wasn’t even paying attention, lying here in my own world, thinking back to last night.
“I think someone might have got laid.”
“No! What?”
Shut up, Peter. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about, but he just chuckled and carried on inspecting my skin.
“We need to get Zara back in here.”
“She’s already done my face,” I muttered.
“I’m not bothered about your face.”
“Then what?” I smoothed down my stomach. I was clean, plucked to perfection, my privates nicely tucked in under the towel.
“Yes. Well, you’re all good to go, but the mark on your neck is slightly problematic.”
Shit.
I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I laughed nervously, getting up on my feet and leaning over so I could see myself in the mirror.
“There.” Peter pointed it out and held up his hand mirror so I could see the back of my head. And yup. There it was. A small, faint outline of something that absolutely didn’t look like a love bite, but I wasn’t about to tell anyone that Matt kissing my neck while he played with my dick? Yeah.
“There’s a bite mark on your bum as well, Con. Honestly, you knew we’d be doing this today.”
I did. And this was my life, in a nutshell. I hadn’t even thought, and yes. I was now grinning like a fool, staring at my buttock in the mirror. I remembered it well. He’d gone to make us a cup of herbal tea. I’d been on the bed reading my script. Then he’d bent over and just…nibbled at my bum.
“Can I just ask you one thing?” Peter looked more serious than I was comfortable with. I didn’t need a grilling. Not today. “Is he good to you?”
What kind of question was that? Was Matt good to me?
“It’s very…new,” I said, trying to figure out how to fend off this conversation.
He smiled. “We all have to start somewhere.”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t falling for this.
“I can tell. You keep smiling, like you’re remembering things that made you happy. I assume it was this boy of yours?”
“Not a boy. He’s actually a senior schoolteacher,” I admitted. Fuck. I needed to stop this. Now.
“Oh. Nice. Educated.”
“He’s also the kindest man I’ve ever met. Really funny. We fit.”
Shut the hell up, Connor! God. Where was all this coming from?
“So your kinks are aligned and there will be a second date?” Peter tried.
“No.” I laughed. “No dates. We’ve pretty much skipped that stage. And there are no kinks involved. I promise you that.”
“Well, I don’t quite believe you. This boy of yours—”
“Nope,” I warned. “You’re not getting another word out of me.”
