He was pulling it off well enough, in fact, that she was debating what it would feel like against her own lips, or perhaps other places. Something so ...mall about him and yet…it was something that defined him. Would she still be as intrigued by him without it? It didn’t matter. The fact was that he was sitting in front of her, with that mustache, that built in smirk, and her mind was wandering to places that it shouldn’t. He laughed and she joined him though she couldn’t seem to place what had. Still, nothing. I downed the whisky and ran the back of my arm over my mouth to ease the burn. Looking across to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, I saw a picture in a frame but couldn’t make out who or what it was. I was about to stand up to take a look when Malcolm came back.“Okay, the spare bedroom is ready.”“Thanks, Malcolm. I hope you know how much I appreciate this.”He smiled. “Okay, well I’m going to bed, myself.”“Oh, okay.”Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a large. More

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