Much's eyes had been on her ass, but also on the sex tousled hair tumbling down her back, telling the story of what they'd done, but he dragged them away when she spoke. Forced himself to get off the bed and find his clothes, yanking them on without looking at her, smoldering. Look. What had he expected? Why had he asked? He was so fucking stupid.
He should be glad she hadn't bought up Mary.
He should be glad she was letting him go.
No, you fucking idiot, you should still be at the Fox he growled at himself. Stupid stupid stupid. Was Alan going to be home when Much got back? Much knew he reeked of sex. God, he was going to have to lie to Alan unless he could get straight to the shower. He hated himself just a little bit more.
His shoes and socks made a trail across the room ending not far from the liquor cabinet. Much didn't say a thing to her as he bent down to scoop his shoe up, and tried not to look at her either as he shoved his foot into it.