Bad Boys In Kilts (17 page)

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Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: Bad Boys In Kilts
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She stilled, even as the energy emanating from her very being seemed to crackle in the air between them. “So, you’re saying you’ll let me do it then?”
He nodded. “Aye.” His hands were already on her, having tugged her close by the elbows. “I’ll allow you your access. You can hound my mashman and badger my still manager with your eager questions.” He was certain they’d find her intrusion into their busy schedule as charming and undeniably appealing as he did. And if they didn’t, well, they could answer to him.
“Oh, Reese.” She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you. For trusting me.”
He wrapped her in his arms, and couldn’t recall a moment in his life when he’d felt so ... weightless. An odd word, but it was the one that floated through his mind. As if the worries of the world were lifted and all was right and in balance, at least for that space in time when she was beaming at him as she was now.
“You won’t regret it,” she vowed. “I promise you that. We can sign a contingency contract based on traffic and hits-per-month, then—”
He silenced her excited chatter with a kiss. It was well beyond him then to stop. She’d have to be the one to tell him he’d crossed a boundary, that she wanted their liaison to be a professional one only. Because he’d discovered in the past fortnight, and most definitely in the span of the last hour, that he wanted far, far more where Daisy was concerned.
And though he’d certainly honor her wishes were that the case, he discovered something else about himself in that moment. All the parts of him that he’d invested in making Glenbuie whisky continue to be a success, for both family and the villagers, the drive he felt, the determination to succeed ... was now being channeled in a wider direction, with some of it circling back to him, to his needs, his wants. He wanted Daisy MacDonnell. And by damned he was going to fight for this with the same energy he’d bring to bear on anything else that mattered to him. And she already mattered.
He wove his fingers through that glorious russet waterfall of hair and shifted her mouth so he could plunder it fully. She accepted him, allowed him in, with a satisfied groan that only served to wind him up further. “Daisy,” he murmured against her lips, breathing heavily as he ran the edges of his teeth along her jaw. The very taste of her made him voracious with hunger and need.
“I know,” she said, her own breath coming in short gasps as her fingertips dug into his shoulders. “It’s crazy. But I don’t want to stop this. It’s different here. My whole life is different here. For the first time I feel like I do have a life. And—well, I want you in it. And not just as a client. I’d—I’d even give up the whole Web site idea if—”
“Nonsense. And maybe you need to think about this a different way. Things
are
different here. We can make time if we want to. But honestly? I dinnae want only one part of you. Who you are in here—” He tapped her forehead. “Your brilliant business mind, all that creativity, spark, and boundless energy for doing what you love, is also a part of who you are here.” He pressed two fingers over her heart. “I wouldn’t cheat myself by only wanting half of you.”
Her eyes went a little glassy at that. “I never thought of it that way. I would have to say the same. About you. I can’t imagine only knowing you away from this. It’s the heart and soul of you.”
He grabbed her fingers and kissed their tips. “I think perhaps I have a wee bit of room left over there.”
She grinned again, and sniffled. “Yeah? Well, it’s quite possible I might as well.” She turned his hands and kissed his knuckles. “Maybe this balancing life stuff isn’t so hard as I’ve been making it out to be. Maybe I was trying too hard to separate it so completely. I don’t guess that would have really worked out.” She grinned. “I’m a complete package. All or nothing.”
“I want all.” Then he swung her up in his arms, eliciting a squeal from her.
“We’ll just have to make time away from our business parts.”
He grinned. “Not a problem. I have a real thing for your personal parts, if ye havena’ noticed.”
She giggled. “Well ... it’s closing in on midnight, and here we stand, doing business. We’re a hopeless lot, the two of us, aren’t we?”
“At the time, it seemed the only way I could have any part of you, so I selfishly took it. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have you here after hours because it was the only way I might get you all to myself again, even as nothing more than a business associate.” He was already striding from the room, kicking at the double doors and swinging them both through them.
“I rather hope you don’t carry your other associates around like this. Or kiss them breathless, either.”
That made him smile. “I make you breathless?”
She laughed. “I know, the way I chatter on, that’s quite a feat.” She tightened her hold on his neck. “But yes,” she said more quietly, “yes, you do. And it’s bloomin’ wonderful.”
She toyed with the edges of his hair, sending increasing ripples of arousal through him that threatened to undermine his ability to get her out of this building and off to where he wanted her most. In his bed. Beneath him.
“I could walk, you know.”
“I rather like having you in my arms,” he said, moving down the short hall now to the employees’ exit. “I feel as if I’ve waited centuries to get my hands on you, and I’d like as no’ to keep them on you as much as possible, if you dinnae mind.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, pressed her lips to the side of his neck, right on his pulse. “No,” she murmured, kissing him again. “I dinnae mind, a’tall.”
He stopped just short of the exit and turned her toward the wall, pinning her there so he could lift one hand to her head and tip her chin up to his. “Come here,” he told her. “I can’t wait another second to—” And he didn’t. His mouth found hers as if it had been its destination for years. She opened for him and he slid his tongue into her mouth, dueled with hers, then let her pull it deep and tight. As she pulled and suckled him, his hips moved of their own volition, pressing against her, the rigid length of his cock straining to be released, to be taken into her mouth just as his tongue had been, to be suckled just like that, in confines so tight and wet and—he growled and let her slip from his arms.
He shifted her back to the wall and pulled her thighs over his hips, pinning her there so he could bury himself, as much as he could, between her thighs. Now she was moaning, squeezing him tightly between her legs, driving him bloody starkers.
“Hold on,” he commanded, wrapping his arms around her and swinging her from the wall. He pushed open the door to the back lot, not bothering with the lights or the locks.
“Where are you taking me?” She kissed the side of his neck, then teased him with a light bite along his pulse, then another on the lobe of his ear.
“Not much farther than this parking lot if you dinnae stop what you’re doin’.”
She laughed against his fevered skin. “You mean this?” She nibbled the lobe of his ear, then ran her tongue along the outer rim. Then she dropped kisses all along his jaw, interspersed with more teasing nibbles. “Or this.”
“You enjoy teasing, do ye?”
“Oh, aye, that I do,” she informed him, her accent just as lousy as ever, and driving him absolutely mad with it anyway.
“Well,” he said, crossing the lot and climbing the hill just beyond it. “So do I. We’ll see how well ye like it then, when it’s my turn.”
The short hill was rocky but there was a narrow path, one he’d walked so many times since he was a wee lad, he knew it even in the dark. The moon was close to full and cast the glen beyond in an unearthly glow. He could hear the babbling sounds now, of burn running over rocks. Ahead, on the other side of the stream, was the dark shadow of a stone croft.
“What is this?” she asked, then squealed as he waded through calf-deep water without concern for clothing or leather shoes. “Reese!”
“Now ye’ve seen the burn.”
She laughed and tightened her hold as she tried to turn and look over her shoulder to where they were headed. “Where—”
“This was the original legitimate distillery. Or a part of it, anyway, before my ancestors began building down below. We renovated it some time back, preserving it, thinking to add it to the tour, but I ended up renovating it again.”
“Into what, an office?”
He stepped up on the small porch and slipped a key from the frame over the door. “No,” he told her, pushing open the door. “As my home.”
Chapter 8
R
eese slapped his hand on the wall as he kicked the door shut and a small lamp illuminated the room, filling it with a warm glow. Daisy had little time to notice the interior of Reese’s home, other than it was small, cozy. The main floor was one big room, much like a cabin, with a living area that opened up to a kitchen and dining area on the opposite side. A big potbellied stove was situated in the center of the room, where it could heat both living area and dining area. Beyond that, she saw little as he carried her straight to the spiral, wrought iron stairs that ascended to the upper floor at the far side of the room. “Hang on,” he told her.
“Reese, your shoes. Your pants. You’re tracking water—” He silenced her with his mouth on hers, and she willingly sank into him. For a man who claimed to be all work and no play, he sure knew how to kiss. There was nothing tentative about the way he took her mouth, exploring, teasing, taking. He dueled with her tongue, coaxing her into his mouth, before sliding into hers. He groaned when she sucked on him, which made her squirm in his arms. Carnal images flashed through her mind, of exactly what she’d do as soon as she got him upstairs and naked. She wanted to make him growl, she wanted to make him buck his hips helplessly against her, she wanted to make him lose control.
And then she wanted to let him do the same to her.
The way things were going, she might not make it out of her clothes before climaxing. Wrapped around him as she was, she knew his body was lean and hard. Some parts more than others, she thought, tightening her thighs around him, pulling the rock-hard length of him closer to where she needed it most. She felt constricted by her clothes; so stuffy and hot, she wanted to claw them off. As he moved his attentions to the side of her neck, running his tongue along her pulse point, nipping her earlobe, then kissing her again, she wanted nothing more than to strip down and feel his mouth on every inch of her body, feel his skin brushing hers, tangle herself up with every lean, hard inch of him.
They topped the stairs and he flipped on another small lamp, but she didn’t look around—her gaze was solely on him. She’d never seen anyone look at her the way he was right at that moment. Need, desire, want, all so focused, so intent. She shivered in anticipation, so very glad she’d reached for what she wanted. If her goal was to find a life outside of work ... well, she doubted she’d be thinking of anything work-related for the duration of the time he kept looking at her the way he was right then.
“You’ll have the grand tour later if ye want,” he said, his voice roughened with need. “But no’ now. I can barely take my hands from you long enough to gi’ you yer balance.” His accent was more pronounced now, his voice gruffer and not remotely polite or stuffy. The intensity only served to heighten her need further.
He shifted so she could unhook her legs and slide down his body, making them both groan a little. She wasn’t sure her legs would support her at this point, she was so close.
He settled his hands on her hips, keeping her body up against his as she steadied herself. She reached for his face, to pull his mouth back down to hers, but he moved back, just slightly. “Yer sure o’ this, Daisy? Sure of me?”
“I’d have stopped you long before now if I weren’t. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Ye need to know—you’re no passing fancy for me. I dinnae believe in just carrying on for the sake of it. I should be courting you properly, doing this right, makin’ ye see we can find a balance first, and—you’re around me for five minutes and I can’t think straight. I’m no’ handling this properly and I shouldn’t chance ruining anything by rushing—”
She grinned. “Reese.”
“What?”
“Get me naked and make love to me properly. We’ll balance the rest later.”
“Dear God in heaven,” he breathed, sounding so relieved. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He’d been so confident, so certain, so assured in the way he’d literally carried her to his bed. She hadn’t realized he’d been nervous or worried. That he had been, that he’d stopped long enough to ask her, when it was clear she wouldn’t have stopped him from doing pretty much anything he wanted to her, made her heart swell, and tip even further in his direction. She stroked the side of his face, then curved a hand around the back of his head and tugged him down to her, while simultaneously unbuttoning his shirt with the other. “I’m asking,” she said softly. “Take me to bed, Reese Chisholm.”
“Och, Daisy, the things you do to a man.” He pulled her into his arms, trapping her hand between them.
“The only man I want doing anything to me, is you.”
He took her mouth again, only this time there was a fierceness to it, a visceral edge, as if he were claiming her instead of merely joining with her. His hands slid down her back, then up beneath her shirt as he took the kiss deeper.
She moaned at the feel of his hands against the bare skin at the small of her back. She pressed against him, wishing she was still straddling him as her hips were too far below his to match need for need. She yanked his shirt from his waistband, but he grabbed her wrist. She looked up him, surprised to find him grinning. He really should do that more often. It did things to her. Really amazing things.
“You said I should get you naked. I dinnae recall there bein’ any talk of myself.”
She smiled back. “I assumed that was understood.” He spun her around and laid her back across his bed. It felt like she’d fallen through a cloud. “Oh,” she said in surprise, then followed that with a deep sigh of appreciation. “Wow.”
One side of his mouth curved in a wicked grin. “And I’m no’ even undressed yet.”
She laughed, really enjoying this side of him. She hadn’t thought she could feel any needier. She’d never been more wrong. “I was talking about your bed. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“I can but hope that’s the only thing you find soft this eve.”
She pushed up on her elbows and very deliberately let her gaze run over him from head to toe, and, with lingering appreciation, back up again. “I don’t believe that will be a problem.”
His eyes flared and she squirmed on the bed. She pressed her thighs together against the growing ache between them. He pushed his knee between her legs, parting them as he bent low over her, toying with the buttons on the front of her shirt. “I want tae see all of you, Daisy.” He plucked her buttons open one at a time, pushing her shirt apart as he did.
Her hips bucked a little and her nipples were hard as rocks. Between the rough accent and the look in his eyes, she was all but quivering at this point. She wanted to grab him, any part of him, and put it where she needed him most. She wanted his mouth on her breasts and the rigidly hard length of him buried deep inside her. She groaned at the very idea, as he continued his excruciatingly slow removal of her clothes.
He released the front catch of her bra and bared her to him. The cooler air brushed over her hot skin, making her nipples tighten further. Her back arched of its own volition as her body tried to get closer to his touch.
“You’re lovelier than I even imagined.” He glanced from his approval of her bare breasts, to her eyes. “And I’ve imagined you plenty these past weeks.” He pushed the flimsy bra and shirt aside, completely baring her to him.
She was trembling for his touch, so highly aroused the very air on her skin made her moan. “Reese,” she pleaded.
“Oh, aye,” he assured her. “A man could get drunk just on the vision of you.” Slowly, so slowly she thought her heart might burst from her chest, so fast it was racing, he lowered his mouth to her. With the tip of his tongue, he circled her nipple, jerking a cry of pleasure from her. She reached for his head, wanting more than that teasing tip, but he swiftly pinned her wrists over her head with his hand. “Allow me this pleasure.” He glanced up, his eyes almost completely black in the low light. “We’ve all night, after all.”
She moaned and let her head drop back on the bed. Dear God, she wasn’t sure she’d survive this slow, intoxicating torture. She was used to calling the shots. Men claimed they liked to be in control, but she’d never met one yet that minded a woman taking over and giving all her attention to his pleasure. In her past life, she’d always been pressed for time and found it saved a lot if she just took matters into her hands, as it were.
But now ... here ... tonight ... She squirmed beneath his continued attentions. Relaxing was near to impossible in this situation. She wanted to urge him to go faster, to get on with it ... and then he took her nipple between his lips and slowly suckled her, almost making her climax right then and there.
His groan of pleasure, almost a growl, as he continued his exploration, kept her from dragging her hands free and rolling him to his back. If she straddled him, she seriously doubted he’d stop her. She could quite clearly see the effect she was having on him, and—“Oh,” she gasped, when he pulled on her nipple, then let it pop free. Only to make her gasp again when he did the same to the other. God, but that felt... “Ohh,” she groaned, her hips moving again without her consent. Her arms went limp, her wrists his to control. “Don’t stop that,” she pleaded, when he shifted his mouth away. “That’s—” It was her turn to growl when he again suckled her nipple. She’d never felt such a direct connection between them and the intensely pleasurable ache between her legs.
Assured she would keep her hands above her head, he slid his hand down her arm, then slipped it behind her back, arching her to him, so he could pull her bra and shirt completely off. He kept his tongue—and teeth—busy on the budded tips of her breasts, until she thought she’d go mad if he didn’t pay attention to her—“Yes,” she moaned as he laid her back against the bed, and let his tongue draw a lazy trail down the center of her torso.
She’d spent so much time imagining doing this very thing to him, she’d neglected to imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end. It was doubtful she could have done it justice, anyway.
He toyed with her nipples, rolling their damp tips between his fingers, then shifted to unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. With little urging, she lifted her hips so he could slide them off. Her sandals fell to the floor along with them. All she had on was string bikini panties of pale yellow cotton, which he left on. Much to her initial dismay.
Soon, however, she found she didn’t mind so much.
He pulled her toward him so he could kneel at the edge of the bed between her thighs. Her arms extended over her head and lay there, limply, as she focused exclusively on the delicious sensations he was creating by running his tongue along the elastic edge of her panties. Normally, by now she’d be dragging clothes off of her partner, in somewhat of a frenzy to get on with it. Said partner rarely ever minded, of course. There was always more work to be done, deadlines to be met. Pleasure was something scheduled in between client meetings and sales conferences.
At the moment, she couldn’t imagine there being anything more important in her entire world than what Reese Chisholm was presently doing between her thighs. In fact, the only urgent thing about this moment was the anticipation of what else was to come. Mainly her, and soon, if—“Oh, please, you have the rest of my life to stop doing that.”
She felt, rather than heard, him chuckle. He teased his tongue down the center of the cotton panel, then pulled it between his lips, soaking it further, teasing her through the wet fabric until she wanted to claw them off and let him finally, blessedly, get to where she needed him to be. In fact, she was lifting her hands to do just that when he pressed her hips to the bed. “Let me play,” he said, glancing up at her. “I’ve waited too long for this. I dinnae want to rush.”
Who could turn down such a sincere request? Not her, as it turned out. She let her arms go limp once again, then a split-second later arched her back sharply as she gasped when he pushed his tongue against her.
He slid his hands down her hips, and, with excruciating slowness, peeled the straps of her bikinis down with him. He kept his tongue pressed firmly against her as he slowly, oh so slowly, peeled back the damp cotton. As the night air brushed her damp curls, she bucked against his mouth, cursing the thin layer of cotton that still separated that devil of a tongue from her—“Yes!” She thrust her hips against him as he finally pulled her panties down enough to let his tongue slip up and over her, then plunge deeply inside of her.
She bucked almost violently as she climaxed instantly. Again and again, the waves of it rushed over and through her. She was reaching for him again, wanting him to slide up and push the best part of him into the now throbbing, wet, and waiting part of her. Once again, he stilled her by pinning her hips to the bed.
“Surely there is another,” he murmured against the damp skin of her inner thigh.
“Another?” she asked weakly. She was still feeling the twitchy aftershocks of the first one. Usually she’d be well on her way to milking the one and only orgasm she was lucky to get for all it was worth, by taking her partner for his final, climactic ride. Meetings were scheduled. No time to tarry and linger. But she wasn’t in D.C. anymore.
She was in the Scottish highlands. In a small stone croft. With a man who wasn’t in the least bit of a hurry. Here it was, closing in on midnight. And there were no meetings scheduled, no early morning conference calls to take, no clients to pick up from the red-eye at the airport. In fact, the only thing she had on her agenda for the rest of the night, and quite possibly the rest of her life ... was—thank you, God—more of this.

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