‘What then?’ asked Abby. ‘Take off your underwear.’ ‘Absolutely not.’ ‘Absolutely not,’ mimicked Damian. ‘I asked you to put on what...was in the bag. Not put on what was not in the bag.’ ‘What kind of counselling is this?’ Damian shrugged again. ‘I told you that I’m not a counsellor. Tell you what, you can call it off and I’ll leave right now.’ ‘And let you win your bet? I don’t think so.’ Damian smiled. ‘And dropping my underwear is supposed to prove something?’ ‘Don’t knock it till you try. A big city boy who didn't give a crap about pedigrees and titles... a true republican, with a small "R". He despised the Central European landed aristocrats with a vengeance.Of course, they had to run into each other at a party. They danced, they drank, they yelled at each other over the music. And before they knew it, both were sitting in his car, she with her tongue down his throat, and he with his hand on, then with his fingers in her sopping pussy.Their affair was brief. 8 weeks, maybe 9. More

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