‘No. You agreed! You can’t backpedal now. No touching is what it is … NO TOUCHING!’ I fire back at him, crossing my arms over my chest to get some breathing space between us. I am fully aware my insides have started that slow rise to heat of their own accord because a hunk of muscle and testosterone is practically pressed against me and talking about sex. Traitorous knickers twisting themselves up as little flutters in my nether region tingle away crazily.

I am starting to ...