“I’m sorry, you’re right.”
Calla smiles softly, brushing her thumb over the valley of my knuckles before she moves to pinch a ripe cherry tomato, bursting with juice and seeds, from atop a piece of perfectly toasted bread.
“God,” she moans, the tip of her pink tongue peeking out to lick up a stray droplet of juice, making my cock twitch. “This is divine. Try.”
She plucks another tomato between her thumb and forefinger, unbothered about the juice trailing down her wrist as she offers it up to me.
I bend my head and wrap my lips around Calla’s fingers without a second hesitation.
The thought flitters through my mind that maybe she’s only doing so to put on a show for McAvoy, but I bat the thought away as quickly as it arrives when I watch Calla’s pupils blow wide, her plush lower lip falling a little, parting her mouth into a sweet little hole I find myself imaging doing terribly filthy things to.
Holding her fragile wrist steady, I nibble at the tops of her fingers, sucking away the juice before I pull away with a wet pop.
Not one to be out done, Calla holds my gaze as she retracts her hand, licking along the ring of her wrist to collect the trails of red juice left behind.
“Good?” she asks.
I sit back in my chair, legs spread, watching.
Calla tilts her head in response, a manicured eyebrow raising as she waits for my answer.
“Well?”
“Mouthwatering. Just like you, Becker.”
Chapter 17
Blake
It would be easy, almosttooeasy, to forget this isn’t a real date, if it wasn’t for the fact I can see McAvoy glancing over and Calla and I every twenty minutes or so.
Calla orders her third cocktail of the evening, while I nurse another cold beer, the conversation flowing easily between the two of us.
I learn her dream holiday destination – the Amalfi Coast – and her worst kept secret – that, at the age of eight, so picked the lock of the cage containing the school rabbit and allowed the little thing to go free because she couldn’t stand it looking sad for another damn second.
She learns my most embarrassing moment – when my brothers gifted me a pair of new swimming trunks for my seventeenth birthday, only to learn they’re the dissolvable type; leaving me to swim about the pool naked. The fact that I was surrounded by my school peers, and my crush at the time, Claire, was simply the cherry on top of the cake.
“You’re close to your brothers, then?” she asks, licking at the salt of her cocktail rim.
My eyes trace the movement of her pink tongue, recalling how it felt wrapped around me, driving me to the brink of ecstasy before I—
“Blake?”
“Hm?” I blink out of my horny reverie. “Oh, yeah. We’re all pretty close.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Four. All boys.”
Calla’s eyes widen. “Your mother deserves a medal for that alone.”
I laugh. “Don’t I know it. Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Close to your family?”
“It’s just me and my mum, but yes.”
