His head throbbed as a result of a combination of the wine intake, weeks of excess, tiredness and the stress he had been under thus far – but he knew he would in for much more pressure if Ingram took the bait. He dozed awhile in the soft-mattressed, King-size bed whilst a series of emotions vied for attention inside him. Part of him was glad he had not slept with Andrea Makin. It would have been another failure in his relationship with Kate, but the fact remained that he had wanted to have sex with her; another part of him was trying to deal with the fact that even though he had wanted sex, he hadn’t been able to get a sustainable erection. That had been so embarrassing. As he’d clambered gamely over Andrea’s more than willing flesh and her hands slid all over his body, ultimately finding their way to his penis only to discover not very much, their wild, breathless antics had ceased virtually immediately as she held him and looked into his eyes with disappointment. He had looked down and said, ‘Shit.’ Andrea’s face hardened as he crabbed sideways off her and rolled on to his back, covering himself with the quilt.
