A week and a half on a boat with a mere trickle of lukewarm water to ablute with every morning had got a little old. Even if it was a part of sailing around paradise on the best trip of my life. I kept to my word and used every product. It was heavenly.

I emerged some time later, scrubbed, shaved, slathered in every lotion I possessed, and smelling great. I felt great too, replenished.

‘Your turn!’ I declared leaving the bathroom in a haze of steam.

‘All righty then.’ He grabbed his toiletry bag and retreated to the bathroom. I suddenly thought that maybe I’d insulted him by telling him to shower. I hadn’t meant it like that. I’d figured he would want to take advantage of a proper bathroom, but maybe that was just a girl thing. Oh well.

I tucked my toiletries away, then spent the next few minutes trying to work out how to arrange myself on the bed. I wanted to appear sexy, but not overly eager. I didn’t want to come across like a rabid nympho. And I certainly didn’t want to appear to be desperate. Although, to be clear, I was a little desperate for sex. I settled for bottom half under the sheet, top half arranged casually – and nakedly – on a pillow.

Josh emerged not long after I’d found the perfect sexy-but-not-a-rabid-nympho position. I guessed he had fewer products in his toiletry bag than I had. His towel was wrapped tightly around his waist and I saw surprise, then delight register on his face when he saw my careful arrangement on the bed. His eyes skimmed over my breasts, then met mine.

I felt like the most beautiful, most desirable woman on earth. We were off to a good start.

He dropped his towel to the floor, and then it was my turn to admire him. Let’s just say there was a lot to admire. And he was so damned sexy. I only hoped his skills matched his looks. Then with a level of assuredness, which both surprised and thrilled me, he joined me on the bed, pulled me to him and locked his lips to mine.

All those future memories – the weight of him on me, the feel of him inside me, giving him pleasure with my hands, my mouth, my body wrapped around him, letting him explore every inch of me until I couldn’t stand it, letting myself fall into a delicious, all-consuming orgasm – it was all of that and more. I had definitely not set myself up for disappointment by fantasising on the boat.

I hadn’t wanted to ask him where he’d learned to kiss as well as he did, and I certainly didn’t want to know why a guy who had chosen to be celibate could shag so brilliantly. But he could, and that’s all I cared about – for around two hours – yes, two hours.