He’s naked apart from a white towel wrapped around his narrow hips that accentuates the swarthy tone of his skin. I always wondered whether he used a sunbed but now I’m unfortunately aware that every inch of him is covered in olive-coloured skin. I’m also faintly surprised that he has hair on his chest. I don’t know why. I suppose because he’s so smooth, I expected him to be more boyish, I guess. Not very obviously a man. I swallow hard, and to my horror, I feel my cock stiffen, so I spring into action.

“Good shower?” I ask briskly.

He looks at me curiously and then gives me his wide, wonderful smile. It always strikes somewhere inside me like there’s a bell that only he rings. It’s full of humour, the warm, plush lips curved into a quirky tilt, and he smiles with his eyes. Very few people do. It’s one of the reasons so many people warm to him. He’s very puckish. Funny and kind but with a strong undercurrent of wildness about him. Like he’s keeping the mischievous side of him only barely reined in.

He scrubs another towel over his hair, emerging from its folds with all that dark mink-brown hair falling over his face in silky strands.

“It’s lush,” he pronounces.

“Pardon?”

He smiles. “Lush. It’s brilliant.” He shrugs. “We lived in Wales when I was seven and my best friend is Welsh. Can’t help picking up a few things.”

“Oh.” I’m startled. Every time he talks to me now, I uncover another fact. He’s like one of those Chinese puzzle boxes that, if turned the right way, spills out its secrets.

“Did you live in many places?” I ask.

He nods. “We moved all over the country until my dad got the church in Devon. They’ve lived there for the last fifteen years.”

He raises a quizzical brow, and I flush, realising that I’m standing staring at him. “We need to talk,” I say abruptly.

“Okay,” he says easily. He settles into a chair, his long legs dusted in black hair stretched comfortably out.

“Erm, don’t you want to get dressed?” I say. Then I realise that I’m standing here and his clothes are here. “Oh shit. I’ll go out on the balcony and–”

“Why?” He’s full-on staring at me now.

“Well, because you’ll want to get dressed.”

“Zeb, I’m presuming that we have the same body parts. I’ve got changed in front of loads of people. I’m fine with being naked in front of you.” He shrugs. “It’s just flesh, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say slowly, my mouth watering at the scent of his damp skin. I shake my head firmly to clear it. “That brings me to another problem.”