When she exited the pool, dried herself, and came inside, I felt no need to pretend that I hadn’t been watching her. She was, after all, a self-prof...ssed exhibitionist.“I smell coffee.”“Help yourself. There is sugar and Splenda, whichever you prefer.”“I prefer real sugar.” She told me. “I don’t have to worry about gaining weight.”“No, why?”“In due time.” She said with a chuckle. “We need to talk about other things first.”I sat in my recliner and lit a cigarette. Dallas stretched out on the. Oh, God, not a blow-job ...Quin ran a hand over the creases and folds of his chin as though considering an idea. '...I need a cleaner,' he said eventually.Becky's shoulders slumped in relief. 'What's the rate by the hour, Mr Quin? And how many hours a week are you suggesting?'Quin sipped his beer. 'For general cleaning ...' he considered, his expression vulpine, fingers brushing his chin again. '... Five quid an hour.''Five pounds an hour?' Becky spluttered.'Well, there you go,' Quin said, face. More

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