Anatoly leaned in, grinning over a mug of frothy ale. “Come on, mate. I know you’ve never done this before,” he rasped, his voice coarse and breath reeking of stale beer. “It’s been, what, three weeks since we got back to the city? You really need to finally get your rocks off.” He slapped his hand on Bram’s shoulder, nearly causing him to spill his beer. Bram shot him a look and got an amused grin in response. “No,” he m...