Free Virtually Perfect by Sadie Mills

taut and toned.  He was swaggering towards her.
    Thank fuck I kept my pants on...
    It was all he could do to stay on his feet.
    Eve came to a halt about a meter from him, breathless, staring.  She wrenched out the bundle.  His shoe smacked him hard on the chest. 
    'I thought you were dead!'
    He just stood there, panting, smiling.
    'I'm not sure I ever felt so alive!'
    Eve was breathing heavily, mouth open, nostrils flared.  Her eyes were ferocious.
    She lunged at him. 
    Ben grabbed her wrists.  Her feet skidded on the shingle.  Ben kissed her hard on the lips. 
    She pushed against him for a second.  Ben felt her relax, her warm arms snaking around his neck. 
    His lips were like ice.  He was freezing.  He tasted salty - she could feel it on his skin.  Eve ran her fingers through his cold, wet hair.  She felt him shiver.  Giddily, she stepped back.
    'Get dressed,' she said, trying not to look at him, trying to still sound angry.  She reached down and grabbed his trousers, thrusting them into his hands. 
    'Let's go home.  Before one of us gets arrested.'
     

CHAPTER 19
     
    Eve ran into the bathroom and started filling the bath.  She scooted around, grabbing her dirty clothes from the floor, stuffing them into the white wicker basket, ramming the laundry down so that the lid would close.  She quickly checked her hair in the mirrored doors of bathroom cabinet, gave up and scraped it behind her ears. 
    'Are you hungry?' she shouted.
    'No,' said Ben.  He was standing in the doorway. 
    He stood there shivering, desperate to get those cold pants off.  He really, really needed to pee.
    'Hang on.'  Eve darted out to the hallway and ferreted around in the airing cupboard for a minute, then handed him a bundle of towels.  She poked her head around the door, glancing at the bath.  It was already halfway up.
    'It's OK,' shivered Ben, peering at the mountain of bubbles.  'I think I can take it from here.'
    'One sec...' she said, stomping off to the bedroom.  She inspected the dressing gown, gave it a sniff.
    'Are you sure I can't get you—'
    'Really, I'm fine.' Ben took the dressing gown, smiled politely, and then he closed the door.
     
    Eve kicked off her Reeboks.  The stink drifted up.  She consigned them to the front doorstep.  She lifted the washing up basin out of the sink and climbed up onto the counter.  She turned on the mixer tap, flinching at the cold until the warm filtered through.  Eve squirted a pump of handwash into her palms, massaging her feet in an explosion of suds. 
    She was glad she'd painted her toenails.  Lincoln Park it was called.  It was supposed to be dark red, but it came out almost black.  It made her skin look even paler.  She was glad she'd shaved her legs.  Trimmed the topiary.  She paused.  Was it really going to the come to that?
    Eve was still pinching herself.  She couldn't quite believe what had happened.  It had been a long time since she'd stripped for a stranger.  Despite the chit-chat, dinner, drinks, smiles, singing, that's all Ben really was.  Years ago, she'd happily pose for a room-full of gangly students.  Eve had never had any qualms about her body.  She smirked to herself, recounting Ben's awkwardness: flickering glances, reddened cheeks, expanding pupils.  He didn't know what to do with himself.  It was good to know she still had it.
    She'd expected him to run a mile after her little speech (well, he had, but she'd never imagined he would have taken her with him).
    ...But sex?  No.  She wasn't so gung-ho about that.  Sex was a different matter, entirely.
    Eve reached down to the drawer.  She pulled out the Nicotinell, ripped a patch from the packet, peered down at her bare arms for a moment, her chest.  She hoisted her skirt and slapped it onto her thigh.  Eve tugged out a clean tea towel.  She dried her toes and flung it down, hopping down from the counter.  Mr Bojangles had eaten his dinner.  She found him curled up on her