I want him to kiss me. I want him to wrap his fingers around my throat and take away my ability to speak any more stupid words.
But he doesn’t.
He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out an envelope.
“I like to get the practicalities out of the way first,” he says, and I feel weirdly sad as I take the money from him. Feel strangely deflated as I thank him and drop the bundle in my handbag. He finishes up his water as I clasp it shut. “I hope you weren’t too inconvenienced in the aftermath,” he says.
“Tender,” I admit. “But it was no problem.”
“Good to hear.” He clears his throat. “In other practicalities, you’ll be staying until morning. We’ll meet at this time every weekend.”
“Okay.”
“If you’ve revised your hard limits after our last encounter, now is the time to air them.”
I shak
