HIGHLANDER: The Highlander’s Surrender Bride (Scottish Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (26 page)

It was like watching a magic dance, the way he fought.  The way he moved was unreal.  Most fighters that went up against him were able to land one or two punches, maybe a few kicks, only one had ever been successful in grappling him into the ground he was so good.  But Jay managed to get his way out of it… like his body was coated in grease and no one could hold onto him.  And when he fought, he struck with strength… vigor… and with an endurance that somehow seemed to make Callie damp in her panties thinking about how he could apply that kind of power to more interesting wrestling matches.

That she could be aroused by something so barbaric had never even occurred to her.  That she could be attracted to someone like
him
even less so.  Even movie violence had never done anything like that for her, not even when it was the
hottest
movie stars getting sweaty and bloody.  What she saw with her own two eyes, with honest flesh and blood, was somehow more endearing.  And when it was Jay that she was admiring it felt all the more appealing. 

A kind of dance evolved from their mutual outings.  She would go and watch him fight.  She would cheer for him.  She would stand up and dance when he won.  She would show her favor… her appreciation… whatever he wanted if only he would ask.  But he never did.  And at the end of every bout he would turn and see her, as if he had never seen her before, and just as he had the first time he would step out of the ring and kiss her. 

If there were ever any repeat spectators in the different arenas where he fought she never saw them.  No one ever seemed to think that this was some kind of a gimmick for him.  But that it made skinny and – at least what some would call more attractive – women as jealous as hell pleased her to no end.  To be the object of “affection” for a man who dominated the ring like Odin was like a trophy that she had won and would never be able to top.

Their game seemed to be growing more and more intricate as the weeks went by.  But it had yet to become more
intimate
, like she found herself wanting.  Everything was still so forbidden that she couldn’t stop herself from wanting it more and more.  Outside of the house, where no one knew either of them, he was a champion fighter and she… she was no one that just happened to be someone he wanted to kiss. 

After each fight, their kisses grew longer and longer.  She had silently counted the seconds that went by, growing by no more than a single second each time.  It wasn’t until his eighth fight that he kissed her long enough to slip his tongue past her lips.  If his previous kisses had been like lightning bolts, then his tongue was the thunder, and she could feel the impact of it all the way down in the pit of her stomach. 

The dance took on a more interesting – and exciting – twist when they returned home after each fight.  And after each day where he spent his time healing – if he was really injured at all – Callie found herself trying to bump into Jay in the halls of their nearly-deserted home rather than trying to avoid him.  Part of her hoped that they would forego their dance and just skip to the main event when opportunity knocked.

She tried to encounter him surreptitiously in the kitchen… the dining room… the laundry room… in the hall outside his room… the library… the pool… the gardens… anywhere where they could be alone.  She
wanted
to be alone with him.  She made overt comments about it as the days went by.

“…so much space it’s like we’re all alone out here…”

“Nobody comes down to do their own laundry for at least another hour.”

“…having a hard time keeping my bathing suit on…”

“Looking for something in poetry… it always gets me in the mood.”

One after another she tried every little trick that she knew.  But after each attempt, he only smiled that damn enriched expression at her and walked away without saying a word.  Her reservations about the morality of their relationship grew dimmer and dimmer with the passing of every day until they were gone entirely.  Her desire – her
lust
– was becoming heavier than any heavyweight champ that ever lived.  After every fight that she saw him in she found she could not stop thinking about him… imagining him – imagining
them
– together.  She imagined those powerful arms encasing her.  She imagined those hands, which had delivered powerful punches, gently caressing her skin.  She wanted to feel her legs wrapped around that muscular waist of his.  She wanted to find out if his cock was just as strong as his other two legs.  The idea of so much power suddenly becoming gentle – or even rough in some cases – was more potent than wine.

But more than anything, she wanted a kiss that lasted longer than fifteen seconds, as had been the record, with just a little bit of tongue thrown into it.  She wanted to feel his power again, like she had that first night.  While every little kiss had memorable and powerful, she found that she was getting tired of the appetizers.  She wanted the main course.

But as the weeks rolled by and her efforts to lure him into a tryst had evidently failed she found her hopes beginning to wane.  She felt like a fisherman who realized too late that she had used the wrong bait when trying to catch a particular kind of fish.  And with her nets empty and her hooks untouched, it was time to return to port.

Only there’s no waiting to try again tomorrow
, she reflected. 

With a heavy heart she checked her calendar and saw that the time of her mother and stepfather’s return from their honeymoon was rapidly approaching.  And with that knowledge tucked away in the back of her mind she knew that any hopes that she had of getting what she wanted would go from hopeful to hopeless with every passing hour.  With her mother and father returning to the house, the staff that her mother had given the extended leave to would surely be returning, making it next to impossible for the two of them to be alone.   And after that there was no hope of having a tryst as she had imagined it with Jay.

Fuck!

Chapter 6

The day preceding the return of her mother and stepfather had been the mass return of all of the house staff that had taken their time off and suddenly returned.  They all systematically picked up their duties where they left off.  Every time she left her bedroom there were people vacuuming the carpets… cleaning the drapes… mopping the floors… mowing the lawns… washing dishes… folding sheets… trimming trees… cleaning the pool… they were everywhere.  They were like ants paid to do a rich woman’s bidding.

The day following, her mother returned with her stepfather in tow.  The pair of them talking on their cell phones as they entered, barely having time to give her and Jay so much as a look of acknowledgement as they were so wrapped up in their own business.  This wasn’t the happy couple that she remembered seeing on the beach the day of the wedding.  It was more like they had already been married for years and had gotten to the point where they had four-way conversations, speaking to each other while talking to someone else on their cell phones.  In some ways she considered that to be a balanced marriage.

“Welcome home, mom,” she said softly to her mother’s back after receiving a small hug from her after she’d walked away.

She sighed and looked to Jay, who had only received a warm pat on the shoulder from his father as he too walked into the house, gabbing on his phone.  She had hoped for some look of sympathy from him.  Maybe a sly and secretive smile… oh, hell; she was hoping that he would kiss her right then and there.  But as per usual, all he did was give her that golden and simple smile until he turned and walked away. 

With her mother and father finally returned to the house – and her chances of being able to leave the house whenever she wanted to watch Jay fight, she resumed some of her old habits.  She focused on college, going over things that she had already memorized and making sure that she had committed them to memory.  Once or twice she found time to go out with Cece, but for simpler and tamer things since Cece had said that taking her to any more fights was dangerous.

“I don’t want you winning over more of the cute ones,” Cece had said jokingly.

As the final month of her summer began to draw to an end, Callie found that there was a pit in her stomach.  It was like a hunger that she had not fulfilled.  Like there was some thrill that had yet to be had… some desire that went unsatisfied.  It was like she had gone to an amusement park and not gotten to ride her favorite ride.  She knew what it was and she knew how to resolve it, but there was no help for it.  She had tried, once or twice more when opportunity allowed, to attempt to bring Jay into some private space where they could be alone even if only for a short time.  But her efforts, as they had before, failed.  All she ever managed to get from him was that damn smile that was both priceless and worthless at the same time.

The night before she was to leave was a big event.  Her mother had the cooks prepare her favorite dish, lasagna with spiced wine.  Her stepfather disguised advice on what not to do as stories of how he had been so reckless during his days in college.  And Jay only sat in silence, listening to his father and her mother, and barely giving her a glance.  As if he wasn’t affected in the slightest that she was leaving.

She supposed that he wasn’t.

As soon as she was gone, he would find some other woman to play his games with.  He would find some other woman to want him… to chase him… after she was gone.  He would be like a cat that just found some other toy to play with. 

Oddly, she found herself jealous of that next toy that he found. 

When dinner was finished her mother did the genuine mother ritual of being slightly weepy over her departure.  Her flight would be leaving early in the morning if she was to arrive at campus on time and there would be no time for her to eat before she left the house.  And while her mother went on this short burst of emotion, Jay and his dad excused themselves so that they would have their dining room alone to share a final tender moment.  “Oh, this’ll be your last meal in the house until you come home for Christmas!”  It wasn’t much of a display, but Callie appreciated it for what it was.  She could come home every weekend if she really wanted, her mother wouldn’t even feel the pinch for the private jet and the fuel expenses, but she knew better than to say as much.  Still, it was as heartwarming a thing as she had experienced since her mother left for her honeymoon. 

She wandered back to her room in silence.  The house was quiet, most of the staff had gone home for the evening and she felt a small pang of excitement at the thought of leaving.  Tomorrow she would be on her way to higher education and would not see her home for at least five months and in that time she would learn, grow, and generally become something more than she was when she left. 

When she reached her door, she halted. 

Her door was open… slightly.  And she could see that there was a light on inside… and she could hear the sound of running water from her shower.  She knew at once that it had not been her that had left the water running.  And it was too late in the night for someone to be cleaning her room.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Could it be…?

She gently bit her lip and pushed her door open, peering inside.  The steam from her shower wafted through the air.  She couldn’t smell the body wash that she used or anything else.  There was just the steam that somehow managed to permeate the air more than any of the fragranced oils or soaps that she used. 

As she stepped in, she saw the full length mirror that took up the entire wall of her bathroom.  And reflected in it was one of the most awe inspiring things that she had ever seen in her life. 

Jay was in her shower. 

He stood as naked as any depiction of a Greek god captured in marble, but harder and more lifelike.  Water dripped from off of his body at every angle of his body.  It fell like rain from off of his neck… his elbows… his chin.  His hair was soaked and the water streamed down his body in thin rivulets.  It was like watching a mountain stream wash over rocks in a gently running river, but more beautiful.

His eyes were closed as he looked into the flowing shower, allowing the water to a caress his skin.  Though he was being cleaned, there was something dirty about the whole thing that she felt herself being tangled in and quickly.

She stepped quietly into her room and without needing to be told she closed the door behind her, sealing their privacy.  And though she doubted it would have helped at all, she locked the door, hoping that this would at the very least assure that it would be all the harder for him to leave.

She walked slowly into the bathroom, the heat from the shower reaching her skin and coaxing small beads of sweat from her skin.  She stood in the doorway, simply watching him as the water washed over his body.  Jealous of every drop that touched him in places she had only ever dreamed about.

“Don’t say anything,” he said softly, his voice barely louder than the rush of the water.  And though his eyes were closed and not watching her she felt the weight of interest upon her.  “Take your clothes off… and get in here with me.”

Without intended to do so, she got out of her clothes more quickly than she would have liked.  All the while he kept his eyes closed and that added to her haste.  She wanted him to see her… to touch her… to feel her both inside and out.  And before a minute had elapsed she had stripped herself of her jeans, shoes, bra and panties.

With his eyes still shut, he held out a hand as if he could sense that she was naked.  Water dripped from between his fingers as he did so and she gently reached out and took his hand, feeling the moistness of his skin as he gently guided her into the stream of the shower.

The stall was large and there was more than enough room for the both of them.  And he gently spun her so that she had her back to him.  The water was warm as it washed over her, turning her neatly kept hair into thin ropes of soaked scalp.  But she didn’t feel the heat of it at all.  All she could feel was his hand upon hers and then the muscles of his chest and belly as they pressed into her back.

He pulled her hair aside gently and she felt his lips lightly peck at her neck.  Into her ear he whispered, “Don’t make any noise… don’t say a word… just let it happen.”

Her initial response was to protest, but she didn’t find it within herself to do so.  It felt like she had stepped into another skin, one that she had concocted from fantasy and made into a reality.  It was a moment just like she had seen in most of Jay’s fights… the moment of submission.

He started by putting his hands firmly upon her breasts.  She felt the power of his fingers, the muscle that was contained within them.  That much was, at least, just how she had imagined it.  Full of power that seemed so overwhelming that it couldn’t be trusted to move boulders without crushing them, yet it seemed gentle enough to have plucked flower petals without damaging the stem. 

His hands couldn’t entirely encompass her breasts.  He moved them around, exploring them, taking a fresh handful of flesh with every clasp of his fingers.  The tips of his thumb and index fingers found her nipples and he pinched them, just hard enough to make them hard and she gasped at that.  The pain was exciting and she reached out, resting her hands against the tiled wall of the stall as if she were being arrested and searched in the most delightful of ways.

He pulled her hair aside and kissed at the back of her neck.  His hands traveled south, exploring the surface of her belly… her hips… and finally she felt them upon the curves of her ass.  She rubbed her ass against him, feeling that his cock was already hard and anxious.

She resisted the urge to turn and face him.  This was his arena… he set the rules… and she was a new player.  She would listen to him… learn from him… do whatever he said like he was training her. 

His hands circled back around, moving father south until they reached the thin patch of pubic hair.  His fingers explored that region, tickling her, until he dipped his fingers inside of her.  She felt a different dampness that had nothing to do with the shower as his fingers toyed with her.

It was clear that he had done this before.  His fingers knew all of the right places to touch and he did them in order, starting at her outmost layers and slowly working his way inward, giving each sweet spot its turn.  When his fingers finally probed her clit she felt her legs shaking like they might give out from under her. 

She felt his arms close around her and tightly.

Oh, god, yes!

It was better than she imagined.  The feeling of his muscular arms was incredible as they tightened around her.  His grip was firm but gentle as if he could easily compensate for her weight if her legs did give out from under her. 

To prove it, he hoisted her from off the floor.  He didn’t hold her high, but he lifted her just enough so that her feet were a mere inch off the floor.  And all the while he kept his fingers inside of her.

The resulting sensation was like nothing that she had ever experienced.  It was a blend of pleasure, excitement, and pain all at once.  Taken together it was amazing.  She had been with men only twice before, both had been classmates.  But neither of them had been like Jay.  Neither had been dangerous or powerful.

His hand began to rock inside of her and she felt his intent.  She fought the urge to begin moaning as she felt the water inside of her blood beginning to boil.  He had told her not to make any sounds.  And though he had given no hint as to why he wanted this way, she could feel that it was like any other contest that he participated in.  Break the rules and it was the end of the bout.

As his hand moved and her feet dangled from off of the wet floor her blood grew warmer and warmer as if it really was about to begin boiling.  But she didn’t care.  The feeling was like no other that she had ever experienced. 

She put her arms up, grasping at the back of his neck to give herself some leverage.  He responded to her action, his fingers moving deeper and more quickly inside of her.  She turned her head, kissing his cheek and tasting not only the water of the shower, but him as well.  He was warm… inviting… and she wanted to feel more of him. 

It hit before she was ready for it. 

Her mouth opened as if she were to scream, but she managed to keep the sound suppressed.  The vibrations that he generated traveled all the way up her spine as if he had managed to coax an earthquake inside of her.  She was thankful for the loan of his strength as she felt for certain that she would have fallen from her feet had he not already been cradling her.

His fingers began to slow inside of her, sensing her release and gently bringing her back down.  He slipped in and out of her, five… nine… sixteen… twenty two… thirty more times before he finally allowed her feet to touch back upon the wet floor of the stall. 

He freed his fingers from inside of her and gently turned her.  The spray of the shower washed down her back and she became aware of its heat as he bent her head backwards, the water covering her eyes.  She closed them to protect them and as she did so she felt his warm lips cover hers.  Suddenly the warmth of the water vanished and all she could feel was his lips upon hers.

She forgot even that as his tongue slipped inside of her mouth and in a way that it never had at the arenas.  At those times, his tongue had been quick.  Slipping in only long enough to give her a small taste of him before being hastily withdrawn like he didn’t want it there any longer than necessary.  But now it was different, he was as generous with his tongue as a reformed rich man giving away his money.