Bodie had once got changed in the back, cricket whites stark against the dark fabric of the seats, shadowed and sun-streaked in turn. Doyle had wanted to watch in the mirror, to see Bodie uncovered, but it wasn’t to be.

Now Bodie sat naked beneath him, pale skin Doyle’s to trail light fingers across, to move lips against, to settle, hard, inside him. Bodie’s closed eyes were his to kiss, his open mouth and breaths and moans... All his.

He missed his Jag, the Escort had been good, but the Capri? The Capri was theirs, would always belong to them.

-- THE END --

April 2006