Page 48 of Storm in a Teacup
What seems like a century later, she opens her mouth and accepts my finger, carefully licking the frosting off. My cock pulses at the sensation of her wet tongue. When I pull my fingerfrom her mouth with a smallpop,she releases a tiny moan.
Fucking hell.I’m half-hard already, tadger pushing against the zipper of my jeans.Do notput that finger in your mouth, Benny.
Too late. I quickly lick off the last bit of frosting.
Linny’s face goes pink as she covers her mouth with her hand, licking the rogue frosting from her lips, saying, “Very good, Rachel.”
Rachel goes for a knife to cut the cake. “Ben’s recipe. I followed it to a T.”
After cake, David and Callum leave first. I walk them to the door where I give Callum a hug goodbye, thanking him for coming. I should hug David as well, but all I offer is an awkward pat on the arm before swiftly turning away, eyes finding Linny as soon as they can.
She seems to understand my silent plea as she stands and says, “I’ve got to get going too. Thank you for having me.”
“Aye,” Isla says, hand tangled in Rachel’s. “Ben wouldn’t have come himself without you.”
“We like having you around, Linny,” Rachel adds.
I grab her coat and help her slip it on. “We do like having you around,” I agree, fixing her collar. “I’ll walk you home.” I pull my own coat on.
They each call out a final “Happy Birthday!” as the door closes behind us and we descend the blue carpeted stairs.
We walk side by side, hands shoved in our respective pockets. When we get a fair distance away, Linny says, “Just a thought…maybe don’t stick your finger in my mouth in public anymore.”
“Can I still do it in private?” I can’t help but ask.
She clicks her tongue. “There is no private.”
I chuckle. “Sorry—honestly wasn’t thinking. Did you not like it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, I just…” She groans slightly.
I let her off with, “I promise I will keep my fingers out of you.”Until you tell me otherwise, I add in my head, even though the likelihood of that scenario is slim.
She huffs through her nose, moving on. “Tonight was fun, though,” she says. “Did you have a good time?”
“I did,” I answer truthfully. “Thanks for encouraging me to do this.”
“I can’t believe you were going to skip out on your thirtieth birthday.”
“I had solo plans, I told you.”
“Fucking off to Ireland to drink with a dead man does not constitute as plans.”
“What an American response,” I admonish. “Anyway, sounds like I would have been fucking off to France.”
She nudges me on the arm. “Your friends love you.”
“Aye.” Annoying of them.
“Despite you doing everything in your power to change that.”
I sigh, head hanging as my pace morphs to trudging. “Yeah.”
“I’m jealous,” she admits.
My head rockets up in surprise. “Are you? You have Mel and Kensie and them.”
“No, I have Mel,” she corrects. “Kensie isherfriend. I mean, we get along, don’t get me wrong, but we would never spend time together one-on-one.”
