Chapter 4

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Tuesday evening—the day before he was due to head back up to Scotland—Steve paid us a visit. We all had a glass, or should that be wee dram, of the bottle of single malt he’d bought us for Christmas.

“I’m not much of a whisky drinker normally,” I told Steve, staring into the glass of amber liquid. "But I could get used to this. It’s so smooth.”

Steve nodded. “I like a small glass at the end of a busy day. It helps me to relax.”

Mark and I had our own ways of relaxing. There was still half a bottle of lavender massage oil in the bathroom and I planned on using some of it to relax with later.

“Hello, Noel,” Steve said, bringing my mind back from thoughts of sliding my hands all over Mark’s slick body.

I covered my bulging crotch with the arm that was holding my whisky glass and watched Noel accepting a back scratch from Steve.

Noel seemed to like this as he arched into Steve’s touch.