Her mouth is perfect. Eager and hot. Wet. It's so overwhelming he almost comes then and there. But John thinks of awful things, of the snow and of rugby and of the fight over the beef and it holds him back. Not well. Not well enough.

John jerks back and reaches for his pants.

"We need to get out of this bloody stairwell because I need you to make some noise," he says, tugging at her to come along, down and down into the basement to find somewhere more private.