Chapter 7
There’s no stairs in my place—because I’m buggered if I’m getting a bloody stair-lift like someone’s granny—so I can roll straight into the bedroom. I lift myself out of the chair and onto the bed, trying not to make it seem like a challenge.
Josh just stands there, looking at me. He takes a deep breath. “It’s different, isn’t it? Doing it in a bed. Seems more personal.” He hangs his head again, the curtain of soft brown hair falling. “I probably sound like a prat, don’t I?”
“No,” I tell him softly. “Come here.”
He climbs on the bed, then stops there on his knees and starts to unbutton his shirt. Last time we fucked, I never got to see what he looked like with his clothes off.