The woman known as Natasha, although her name almost certainly wasn’t Natasha, moved into the closing stages of the massage’s first half. The half that involved lying on your front. She drizzled more oil along the back of each thigh. The cool liquid sparked extra senses right up the top of his legs. The towel was gently raised a couple of inches so the oil didn’t stain it. Now the hands worked the right thigh. Thumbs together and fingers down either side. They pushed up the muscle all the way to the top and then slid back down. Push to the top. Slide back down. With each stroke the fingers of her inner hand touched forbidden fruit, then came away.

McNulty glanced at the crumpled jeans on the floor. Focused on the back pocket where his wallet protruded slightly. His other wallet was hidden in the left training shoe.

His badge wallet.

Soon.

The hands switched to his left leg. The same motion. Push to the top. Slide back down. Push to the top. Slide back down. Her right hand was on the inside this time and its fingers touched what they intended to touch. Briefly. Almost a butterfly kiss, it was so gentle. The butterfly kissing his balls, no matter how briefly, sent the engine-room pulse into overdrive. It throbbed so hard he could barely lie flat on it. Now she switched to one hand per leg, thumbs running up the inside of his thighs while her fingers caressed his buttocks on the upstroke. Her breasts brushed his calves as she leaned forward to reach. Once. Twice. Three times a lady.

Then she stopped.

‘Turn over please.’

It was the first time she’d spoken since instructing him to lie on his stomach. No matter how hard she tried, Natasha, or whatever her real name was, could never be described as posh totty. Polite, yes. Posh, no. She sounded like she should be working down the pits, if there’d been any pits left to work down. Rough as a bear’s arse, with short, clipped vowels that definitely didn’t roll off the tongue. He took a deep breath and rose up onto his elbows. Natasha moved to his side and gripped the towel so it wouldn’t slip off. McNulty spun expertly onto his back and she laid the towel across him again. It wouldn’t lie down but she knew that anyway. She was good at this.