Page 20 of Reinventing Cato
Once Cato had fastened his seatbelt, Vigge set off. Cato picked up the bag of stuff Vigge had purchased and chuckled.
“The good news is we’re not going to be short of chocolate. The bad, you didn’t buy condoms and lube.” He pouted. “If we get stranded, we’re going to be bored. We need something to do to keep us warm.”
Cato pushed the pasty to Vigge’s lips and he bit into it.
“We could playI Spy,” Cato said as he chewed his own pasty. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S.”
“Snow.”
“You guessed. Though you’re a policeman so… I spy with my little eye, something beginning withS.”
“Again?”
“Yep.”
“Snowflake.”
“I give up. This pasty’s not bad. Thank you. I missed breakfast.”
He kept feeding Vigge bites until it had all gone. Vigge licked his lips, then froze as Cato’s fingers brushed his cheek.
“You’re a messy eater. I’ll remember that.”
Vigge glanced at him and found Cato smiling.Oh God.“What did you buy in there?”
“I was spoilt for choice. So many things that would make great presents for next Christmas, but I’d just forget I’d bought them. I was tempted by a Santa Claus that swayed his hips and winked when you pressed on his stomach. Bit too low in my opinion. Obviously designed by some pervert. But this was irresistible.” Cato pulled out a chocolate advent calendar. “Reduced to ten pence. Bargain. We can open random days. There’s a joke under each door. Choose a door.”
“Thirteen.”
Vigge found a chocolate being pushed into his mouth.
“What do you call a snowman with a six pack?” Cato asked.
“An abdominal snowman.”
Cato huffed. He pressed out a chocolate for himself. “My joke is— What goes oh, oh, oh?”
“Santa walking backwards.”
“Right, no more. Obviously, you’re an expert in terrible Christmas jokes. I bet that was useful on your resumé.”
“More chocolate please.”
This time when Cato put the piece of chocolate against his lips, he slipped a finger into Vigge’s mouth. Vigge went quiet and Cato took his finger out.
“Well done on telling the difference between chocolate and flesh.”
Vigge swallowed hard.
“Have I wasted money on extra-large condoms?” Cato asked.
Vigge’s heart thumped hard. “They didn’t sell condoms in there.”
“So you looked?”
He groaned and Cato chuckled.
“No point me buying extra-large,” Cato said. “I have a teeny tiny cock. It’s only nine inches.”
