Page 43 of How to Kill Your Rival

She’s staring straight at us. My heart skips as I wait for her to scream.

Oh fuck.

‘Yeah, just on my way home. Can I help you with anything?’

Mrs Grey squints hard. ‘I’ve lost my glasses again, dear. Is this a man you’ve brought home?’

‘James. A pleasure to meet you,’ I say, glancing at Eliza, who bites her lower lip.

Mrs Grey’s face breaks into a soft smile. ‘I’ll have a proper look at you when I find my damned glasses.’

Eliza looks over Mrs Grey’s shoulder into the room beyond. ‘I think Binks is sitting on them.’

I follow her line of vision to an old grey cat who has a pair of glasses sticking out under his backside on the sofa. He blinks slowly at us as though we’ve ruined his game.

‘Oh, he’s a bugger that one. Thank you,’ she says.

I shimmy past as she heads for her door, pulling Eliza along.

‘Have a good night,’ Eliza says.

‘You too. Maybe have a shower, though. You smell like a butcher’s shop.’

We hold our laughter in until we are safely behind Eliza’s door.

Damn, that was close.

* * *

Kit off and in her washing machine. I loiter in the bathroom covering my balls with my hands and trying not to blush when Eliza strips off.

Fuck me, she’s beautiful even with brains in her hair. She climbs in under the flow of the water and rolls her eyes. ‘Are you going to stand there and gawk, or get your arse in here while the water is still hot?’

If we weren’t head to toe in another man’s filth, I’d have been more excited about the offer.

Eliza steals the water stream immediately. She positions herself directly under it and lets the water wash off the loosest of the grime.

I don’t argue, despite only getting the occasional splash of water.

She’s gloriously naked, and even in our current condition, I’m not immune to it. Reaching for the shampoo, I squirt some in my palm. I push past her and steal the stream.

‘Hey,’ she complains.

I get halfway through washing my hair when she uses her backside to shove me against the wall.

The smooth, wet heat of the skin has me touching heaven.

She lets out a sweet little moan as she lathers up her hair, and I don’t have to look down to know my blood has diverted.

‘Pass me the net,’ I say. Her body wash fills the air with the scent of apples as I add some to the wetted net and scrub it together until it lathers. She snatches it and starts scrubbing herself down. I pretend to mind her thievery, but I want no other man on her. Whether in bite-sized chunks or otherwise.

‘I don’t know how people do this on the regular,’ Eliza says while nudging me out of the way. Her nipples skim me and it takes everything in me not to immediately suck one into my mouth.

‘Maybe they too have a habit of getting man-smoothie launched at them,’ I say.

A swirl of warmth winds through when she giggles.

She shimmies past me, putting me below the running water before grabbing the net and re-soaping it.