Once Affie had heard the story the following morning, she paced the loft, and Mandy swore she saw steam coming from her ears. The more she thought about it, the more she digested what had happened the more sickened she had felt. He looked so at ease, so laissez faire about the whole thing. She was strapped to him as if he had s*x in cupboards every day of the year. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he was happy to have a woman at the loft pining for him, while he was out sleeping with girls like the pretty blonde every day of the week.
He was a self-professed appreciator of the female form. How could she not realise then that a leopard never changes it’s spots. How could she presume so wrongly that she was the only one he found beautiful, the only one he bedded with such relish. He wasn’t worthy of
