Dom was doing laps in the swimming pool, wearing, Ian noticed, nothing at all. Well, not true; an obscenely snug Speedo, tight against firm buttocks and the proud bulge in front. Ian was sucking on his third iced tea, his mouth dry as his eyes followed the slick form gliding beneath the clear surface.

Dom hoisted himself up the ladder and stood there dripping, dark spots on the pavement vanishing immediately in the day's heat. Ian licked his lips again; Dom towelled off, squinting and smirking in the sun. "I suggest you bring a book next time. Or lipbalm."