I sat down beside Danny on the bench. "If you're hoping to get a train back to Bristol at this time of night you'll be lucky."

No response.

"Hey, are you OK?" I bumped my shoulder into his.

He lifted his head up. At first, I thought it was the light the street lamp was casting over his face, but as I looked at him properly it was clear his eye was swollen, as if he'd been punched in the face.

"You don't look OK," I added, as I made to touch his face.

He caught my fingers in mid-air and I dropped my arm. I tried to meet his gaze, but he didn't look like he was focussing correctly, as if he was blind drunk.

"Can I do anything?" I asked. "You want me to get you some food? Call you a taxi?"

He let out a long sigh.

"You want me to just leave you alone?" I added.

He dropped his head in a half nod, so I took a deep breath and got up.

"Ariel," he called after me as I walked away.

"What is it?"

"Maybe some company would be good," he suggested, his words slurring.

How had he gotten in such a mess? It was only 11 p.m. I wanted to leave him there, but I couldn't.

"Company here on the bench?" I clarified as I returned to sit with him again.

"Company ... at my house," he corrected.

I let out a laugh. "So you are up for a repeat of the other week?"

"That was fun, but I'm probably not in a fit state for that tonight," he admitted. "I don't normally drink ..."

Ah yes, the man who doesn't drink yet hangs around outside nightclubs, has whiskey in his drinks cabinet and is drunk on a bench by 11 p.m. He slid sideways and I hauled him back up. "OK, let me get us an Uber. You can tell me all about it on the way to yours."

He returned to his position of head in hands while I sorted out our lift, wondering what had happened between the races and now that led him to get drunk and then into a fight. What had happened to Violet? No information was forthcoming so we settled into silence as we waited for our car.

When our lift arrived, I loaded Danny into the back.

Our driver did not seem impressed with us. "If you make a mess, you'll be fined."

"We're fine," I assured him. "Just get us home ASAP."

We pulled up at Danny's house after a twenty-five minute drive in which I'd tried to engage him in conversation about the night's events. All I'd managed to ascertain was that Violet was a heavy drinker and he'd unsuccessfully tried to keep up – to secure the business deal, of course. And the punch? He'd attempted to defend her against some unwanted male attention.

So to sum up, Danny seemed to be a bit pathetic. A real disappointment.

Back at his house, I helped him with his key before stumbling over the threshold; the hallway not quite as intimidating as the first time but still cold and hollow.

"In here," he said, barging into a room on the left which turned out to be a living room.

He dropped onto the leather sofa and I removed his shoes. I left him for a moment to get us some water and, by the time I returned, he was asleep, sprawled out across the length of it. I set the water down on the glass coffee table and sat myself in the small space left available by his feet. I wasn't tired so I reached for the TV remote and began to search for something to watch, glancing at Danny every now and then to see if he was all right.

I dropped in and out of sleep myself as the twenty-four-hour news flickered on the large TV screen. I kept waking up to the same story on a loop related to Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. Allthe while, Danny asleep beside me, snoring gently. I started to wish I'd put him in the taxi on his own.

He stirred at some point as he stretched out his legs, accidentally kicking me, causing me to wake fully.

"Fuck," he groaned when he saw me.

"Hi to you too," I said through a yawn.

"Ugh, sorry. I feel like shit."

"And you look like it."

"What time is it?" he asked, craning his neck slightly but then giving up.

"5 a.m."

He scrunched up his eyes and put a hand to his face. I reached across and passed him the untouched glass of water. He forced himself into an almost seated position to drink it. I could now see in the half-light that he had a beautiful black eye where he'd certainly been punched. Finishing the water, he dropped back down, closing his eyes again.

We both slept for a bit longer and at 7 a.m. he awoke, dragging himself to what I assumed was the bathroom. I took the opportunity to stretch out a bit further, my muscles stiff from sleeping sitting up.

Danny reappeared, having lost his trousers somewhere and joined me on the sofa, his head rather than his feet now near my lap. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through his hair and caress his painful face. I think he wanted to be touched though as he moved himself slightly closer to me. I still couldn't bring myself to put my hand on him. Instead, I brought my feet up onto the sofa so that, while he was fully stretched out, I was sitting alongside him, the sofa wide enough to accommodate both of us. He put a hand on my calf and my muscles twitched.

"Lie down," he said, pulling on my leg gently.

I did as I was told until we were lying next to each other, a slither of air between our bodies, my face in front of his.

"Does it hurt?" I asked looking into his swollen eye.

"Feels like my head is about to explode."

"Close your eyes," I instructed.

He obeyed and I brought my lips gently to his eyelid, grazing it with the lightest of touches and then planting kisses along his eyebrow and then down his cheekbone and the side of his nose. I could feel his intake of breath each time I touched him, but I was applying no pressure so I knew I wasn't hurting him. I daren't kiss his lips after the other week so after circling his eye twice I pulled away.

"I got punched in the stomach too," he informed me.

I didn't need a second invitation. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slid down the sofa until my face was in line with his stomach. His muscles tensed, bracing for my touch. I put my lips on him again, allowing my tongue to dart out and work its way over his skin, enjoying the tiny flinches Danny's muscles made as I touched them. I ran my nose down his torso and prodded his navel with my tongue. I could tell he was aroused but I wasn't going to touch him.

"Where else does it hurt?" I asked, pulling away and looking up at him.

"Everywhere."

I dropped my head, smiling into him. "You'll be lucky!"

If he wanted sympathy sex he'd have to work a lot harder than that.

"I'm serious. My dick hurts."

His attempt at being cheeky, despite having what must be a horrendous hangover, nearly caught me off guard.

I ran my fingers over him, unable to help myself, and he sighed at my touch. I slipped my hand over his hip and around to squeeze his firm rear, digging my nails in. Visions of a few weeks ago in his conservatory filled my mind as I remembered how bold I'd been then. I wasn't feeling quite so bold now. I was scared of the rejection that would no doubt come in a few hours.

Danny arched his back so that his groin approached my face. I kissed him through the material before he reached down to remove his underwear. I resisted helping him but soon his cock sprung out in front of my face. I placed a kiss on the tip, then down his shaft before letting my tongue trail up the full length of him. I shuffled back up the sofa so I was face to face with him again. "Better?"

"For now," he agreed and closed his eyes.

We fell asleep once more, lying face to face, and I had an odd but pleasant dream that we were kissing passionately in the rain, the throbbing between my legs eventually waking me up. I caught my breath when I realised Danny was looking at me.

"Nice dream?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Had I been moaning? "Mmhmm," I replied.

He reached between us and pressed his fingers against me over my dress.

I gasped at his unexpected but welcome touch and I found myself tilting my pelvis towards him. But my words contradicted my body. "Don't. We had our fun the other weekend."

"You want me," he said, not removing his fingers, instead slowly moving them up and down.

"No," I breathed. "Not like this."

"Like what then?" He didn't stop.

"I don't know." And I didn't. There just seemed to be an odd vibe coming from him that I couldn't work out.

"Tell me to stop," he said, reaching down for the hem of my dress and sliding his hand underneath, pushing my drenched underwear aside and finally making contact with my skin.

"We can't," I moaned.

"Say stop and I'll stop."

"Danny, please."

"I'm not hearing you say stop."

I couldn't say it because I didn't want him to. It felt too good. I gripped his arm in a pathetic attempt to pull it away but he was too strong. He was clearly enjoying knowing that I couldn't bring myself to stop him, when all it would take was one word. I believed he would if I said it. Although this was only our second encounter it felt as though we had an unspoken agreement.

He put a hand behind my back and dragged the zip down. I wriggled my arms free and between us we pushed my dress down my body, along with my underwear. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed it against me. His precum mixing with mine.

"No," I moaned as he guided himself to my entrance.

I raised my leg up and hooked it over him, subconsciously or not making the angle better for him to enter me. At an excruciatingly slow speed he pushed inside me. I buried my head in his chest as he filled me up. When he was as deep as he could go he stopped and just held me against him.

"Fuck," he moaned as my insides contracted around him.

I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. One eye swollen, the other hooded through lack of a good night sleep. He stared back at me as we lay connected to each other, my body tingling.

He ran his hands over me, exploring my curves. I slowly began to gyrate my hips so I could feel him sliding in and out of me.

He raised an eyebrow. "Still want me to stop?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"OK, let me make you come first. Then I'll stop."

He started to thrust his hips against mine, with a slow, gentle rhythm sending shocks of pleasure through me. He moved back slightly so he could slide his hand between us and I slipped my fingers down to join his.

"Danny." His name so easy to say in the heat of the moment.

He paused. "You want me to stop?"

"No. But..."

I was approaching climax and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Look at me," Danny said.

My eyes opened on his command. "I'm going to come."

"I know. Me too." His forehead pressed against mine.

A strange whine escaped my mouth as all the muscles between my legs began to spasm, followed by a shudder through my whole body. I could feel myself clenching around his cock and he grunted as he too released.

He stayed inside me as our breathing relaxed and his eyes dropped again.

We finally got up properly at 10 a.m. I was ready for the cold reception this time but he wasn't quite as frosty.

"Maybe we should get brunch?" I suggested as I pulled my dress on, turning my back to him so he could zip me up.

"This is just sex, you know?" He looked at me sceptically.

"I know. But we still gotta eat."

"I can hardly go out looking like this," he said, gesturing to his face. "And your outfit is hardly brunch-appropriate."

"I didn't have you down as someone who cared too much about what people thought."

He sighed heavily. "You seriously want to get brunch?"

"Yes."

"God. Fine. Give me ten minutes and we'll go out. And I'll find you a jacket."

I didn't feel like I'd won in that situation. He didn't want to go out. This was just sex. Of course it was. I wasn't an idiot. I waited on the sofa for him to shower and dress, too embarrassed to ask if I could shower too. Instead, I checked my hair and face in my makeup mirror. I powdered my nose and raked my fingers through my hair. That would have to do.

Fifteen minutes later we were sat across from each other at a local café, me now sporting a soft, grey hoodie covering my exposed chest, Danny letting his hair fall in his face in an attempt to cover his black eye, almost scowling at me. We must have made an odd couple.

"I know this is just sex, but it doesn't mean you have to be an arse the next day. I'm not going to get the wrong idea and make any demands of you." I felt as if I needed to backtrack.

"Apart from brunch," he clarified.

"Apart from brunch."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Why not what? Make demands of you?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't want a relationship with you. Women can enjoy no-strings-attached sex too, you know."

"Not in my experience," he said in a gruff voice.

"Well I can. I'm not going to fall in love with you," I assured him, unable to avoid rolling my eyes.

"No? We'll see," he said, smiling now.

"Is that a challenge?" I asked in surprise.

He shrugged. "If this keeps going, you'll definitely fall in love first."

I laughed at that. "You're very sure of yourself! Trust me, you're too much of a mess. I like my men to have their shit together. You don't."

"You can say that again," Danny retorted, looking down at the menu.

I screwed up my face as I watched him, trying to figure him out. I knew barely anything about him; one of the reasons I was drawn to him, and although I'd been to his house twice, there was nothing there that gave me any clue as to who he was other than that he was well-off. But was it his own money? This company – did he work for it or was it his own? Was his family rich? Why live in such a big house all alone?

"Can we make a deal then?" Danny asked, closing the menu.

"It depends," I said, intrigued.

"We carry on sleeping together and I won't be an arse, as requested. But you don't try to fix me or meddle in my life."

"I haven't ..." I started.

"You want to. I can tell. That's why you wanted brunch - to ask me questions. And don't think just because I was drunk last night I don't remember all those questions you were asking me in the taxi."

"You think you've got me all figured out, huh?" I shook my head.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenged.

"I asked you to come for brunch because I'm hungry and because I didn't want things to be awkward like last time. So yes, you're wrong. I don't want to know anything about you and I'm not telling you anything about me. I was only asking questions last night because I found you drunk on a bench with a black eye. Anyone would be concerned."

"Fine. What are you having?" he conceded as a waiter approached us.

But of course, I was lying. The fact that he was so desperate to keep things from me only made me more desperate to uncover something. Let the battle commence.