KiltTease (12 page)

See. How in the hell had he noticed her discomfort? She could barely hear herself think from the crush of people surrounding them, and he’d picked up on her conflicting emotions. “Does it matter?”

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the low light, so she could see the ripple of tension run through him at her question. “I see, lass. Is the fame getting to your head? I didn’t think you of all people would suffer from it.”

“What?” She stepped forward to get a better look at his face, hoping to find a teasing smile. There was none.

The corners of his mouth were tight, and it changed his handsome face into a mask of anger. “You heard me.”

The coldness in his voice made her shiver. His reaction told her he’d had to deal with this before, probably all the time. She couldn’t imagine that kind of existence, where she waited for someone to betray her. His caution, his intensity, made so much more sense in that moment. He had to prepare himself for the worse and had assumed it happened. Quinton had jumped to the conclusion most obvious to him from experience.

“No,” she whispered, hurting for him. “No. I’m just…the man I saw out there wasn’t the Quinton I’ve seen before. You were the man’s man. The women fawned over you, and you…” She raised her hands, and they just sort of flailed as she tried to fill in the blank. “Played it up.”

A stillness settled on the air. “That’s who I have to be.” His words came out slow as though he chose them with care.

“No, it’s not,” she threw back at him. “You quit that life.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I retired from playing.” His frustrated sigh filled the small space. “I didn’t quit the life I have to live. It’s the reason why I needed you in the first place. It’s not over. It’s likely never going to be.”

He cursed. “I figure when I’m forty someone will offer me a job as an announcer. Or one of the top colleges here will headhunt me to coach. Or it’s now, any day and I’m sitting alone in a pub, and someone walks up to me, chats me up. Sooner or later, they’ll want something. They’ll take what I’ve told them and sell it to the highest bidder. This is my life, lass.”

She could hear the ache of truth in his words. Maybe his smile had blinded her to these emotions before. It was there in the dark with nothing but his voice and the vague outline of his face. Shame heated her cheeks. This was supposed to be a fun and thoughtless adventure for her.

For Quinton…He was a thirty-five-year-old man who had to retire from the job he loved because he physically could not do the one thing he loved the most in this world. She’d done her research on him and knew that to be a fact. The constant pain in his shoulder was a reminder, even though he pretended to be fine with it all. He was pretending to be unbroken by it.

“New rule,” she said, her voice quavering just a little.

“Aye?” The ache was still there.

She nodded, adamant. “You don’t pretend with me. I’m not the life you have to live for other people. I don’t care if I’m your fake girlfriend. You don’t pretend with me.”

He let out a short, quiet laugh. “My Kate, I haven’t.”

She had to press a hand to her fluttering stomach at his words. “But you have. You act like you don’t hurt. You keep being the one on top even though it puts a strain on your shoulder. You smile when I know you want to frown. So…stop it. It’s my rule. I’ve followed yours, and you have to follow mine.”

He leaned against the door, the coiled tension radiating off him releasing. “That’s just me being egotistical and stubborn.
That’s
all me.”

The honesty in his confession made her laugh. She reached for him, and he caught her in his embrace. Resting her head on his chest, she sighed. “We have to go back out there.”

“And I’ll have to be the Quinton you don’t too much care for.” His words were flat.

She hated that. He wasn’t happy-go-lucky, but he was never defeated. Kate called on her superpower. “Well…we can always hand out Douglass’s moonshine, like we said we would. No one will be the wiser in thirty minutes.”

“I like the way you think, lass.”

“We might as well have a swig or two ourselves. I saw Angeline.”

“I did too. It’s why I tracked back. I was trying to shake her.”

She laughed again and then sighed. “It’s just a few more days, and then you can be what you want. Be whoever you want. So deal?”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his agreement.

He pressed his lips into her hair and kissed her there. When he did, France, anywhere else, just seemed too far away.

*****

A few days after the stag party, Kate stepped out of Quinton’s bathroom wearing a winter-blue chiffon number that made her feel like a princess. She felt like a bright spot in his deeply masculine bedroom. The dark reds and grays sucked up the light.

Now that was until she saw Quinton in full Highland dress. If a man in a tuxedo was an aphrodisiac, then a kilt had to simply undo the very threads holding a woman’s panties together.

And he was dressed and ready for his brother’s wedding. This was all the time he’d demanded of her from the beginning. The finality of what they were hit her then, and it slammed her right in the chest, making her mouth so dry it hurt to swallow back the dark emotions.

Kate didn’t dwell, but she knew the deal he had needed her for had gone through. He’d taken calls, signed papers, and hadn’t mentioned that he no longer wanted her with him. She told herself, as he had likely done the same, they still had a few more weeks. Callan and Victoria were headed for a honeymoon after today. Her job was still to watch over Douglass while they were gone. She and Quinton weren’t done yet.

And now she took in the sight of him, detailing everything for her memory banks. He’d slicked back his dark auburn hair, and it somehow made his jawline more masculine, his eyes a deeper shade of blue, and his crooked nose rounded it off with a rakish quality. The kilt, the high socks, the silver buttons running down each side of his coat, and the plaid tie couldn’t sway her to think he was anything but a reformed bad boy.

Since meeting Quinton, she had pulled up too many YouTube videos of him playing rugby to see him as anything else. He was just too hearty, determined, and
muscled
to ever be truly tamed in her imagination and her reality. The rough and bloody sport was not for the faint of heart. Quinton wasn’t either.

So…then and there, Kate decided to ruin her hair, her makeup, and be late for his brother’s wedding. Maybe one day she’d feel apologetic. It wouldn’t be today. Jumping him now was reckless. Those naughty intentions strayed from the path. She
had
to do it.

“My dress doesn’t fit right,” she said, watching his expression change from curious to intense. His room was big, and as he continued to hold her gaze, it felt like miles kept them apart.

But his deal had gone through, and he still wanted her. It was enough. “Can you unzip it for me so I can pick something else?”

His nostrils flared, his intent perusal of her clothes stopping at her hard nipples. “You are so bad for me.”

She chuckled, knowing she had all his attention, and turned her exposed back to him. “Don’t you want me to look nice for your brother’s wedding?”

She held her breath until she felt his knuckles against her spine as he unzipped her dress. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I know what you’re doing, lass.”

Six months ago she would have been too blinded from the death of her grams to see straight. Three months ago, she would have just been experiencing the freedom from that constant heaviness on her chest—in small moments but still there.

With Quinton breathing heavy behind her, Kate felt feminine and sexy. She didn’t feel like her old self. This new her had cojones and sass. If someone could tempt a man into being late for his brother’s wedding, it was her.

She grinned, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it. “I don’t know what you mean. I am so good.”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade and then her back. “Aye, you’re using that porn star voice. Is this why you wanted to get ready early?”

No. That had been the nurse in her. “I like being punctual. This is why I’m so conflicted. I should just wear this. It’s Victoria’s day, not mine.”

He chuckled and reached forward to pull down the dress. What did it matter that he caught her strapless bra too, freeing her breasts for his fingertips to play with?

“So thoughtful.” He nipped her earlobe before murmuring, “But I thought one of our rules was we weren’t supposed to lie?”

She had a rebuttal, but his palms roved over her nipples in slow circles, stealing the breath right from her lungs. Kate did these things to tease him into a frenzy, and he always turned it back on her. Her vision blurred as his roughened palms abraded her sensitive nipples.

Reaching behind her, she worked her hands under his kilt. Her fingers met soft cotton and a hard cock. “You lied first. You implied you wore nothing under a kilt, and I find underwear.”

He groaned. “It gets windy in Scotland in the winter. I’d be mad to go without.”

She pffted, and he bit her shoulder and then lower and lower until her bra and panties were on the floor along with her dress. She moaned and closed her hand over his dick when he had straightened again. With him pressed against her, she could feel his stomach jump, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe normally.

“Kate, we can’t.”

How could that plea not turn her inside out? He dominated everyone and everything without a harsh word. It was the force of his stare, a quiet demand in his stance. And still he wanted her with such a fierceness that shifted his resolve.

The knowledge that she had a hold on him both physical and mental made her heady, and the need for him pounded in her veins. She freed his cock from his underwear, grinding her ass into him as she did. He growled into her skin as he nipped on the tender spot on her neck. She gasped, every inch of her flesh turned into an erogenous zone.

“I’m just trying to get a new dress,” she said.

“Fucking temptress.”

The exhilaration and power she held couldn’t be described. She ran her fingers up his cock and found the head was wet from precome. They were both ready for more. She turned around, throwing her arms around his neck. Without thought, he lifted her so their bodies were melded together.

“You’re going to hurt your shoulder, Quinton.”

“I don’t give one fuck about my shoulder.”

She did. She cared for him. Period. Maybe he knew because he kissed her to keep her from spilling out anymore worries over him. He walked them backward toward the bed. She let him, but when they tumbled into the mattress, Kate made sure to end up on top. He wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn.

All that dominance he possessed in his six-foot frame was caged between her legs. He vibrated with a restrained patience, and she felt that to her core. A sharp edge of anticipation coiled in her stomach.

Strands of his hair had escaped his ponytail, completing the picture of a bad boy just barely tamed. She ran her hands through the soft locks, tugging out the band in one fluid motion. He was her Scot until she left. Her heart ached at the thought, but he pulled her down on his hips. They knew each other’s rhythm, and she rocked into him, letting her arousal soak him too.

Because he’d given her the power to run the show, she let his tie stay intact but unbuttoned his shirt, kissing the exposed flesh as it was revealed. His groans deepened the more her mouth worshiped his golden skin. And he did taste as good as he looked. His skin tasted fresh from the shower he’d taken earlier. She nipped at his hip and lower. He loved that, loved her mouth.

So he was putty in her hands by the time she knelt on the floor between his legs, his kilt up. She squeezed his cock, stroked him. The thick girth pulsed in her palm.

She never learned, so she asked in a teasing vibrato, “What would you rather have under your kilt? My hand or my mouth?”

“Just you,” he replied.

His lust-drunk answer tore away her facade. She moaned before she kissed the tip of his cock. The heat of him warmed her lips, then her tongue as she licked him. He groaned. With one of his socks rolled down, he looked completely disheveled. He looked exactly as he should—completely undone by her.

Kate ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, and it twitched in her fist. The crease dripped precome; she sucked it and him. Licked him, slurped him until Quinton’s legs held a tremble, and when it became clear he couldn’t take anymore without coming, he dragged her back up to his mouth.

He’d salted her tastebuds but he didn’t care from the deep, slow way he lapped at her mouth, drawing out moans from her. So effortlessly he shifted the power back to himself. She was melting from the heat wafting off him.

He broke the kiss, his breath laboring as he held her stare. “We’re going to be late, and I don’t even fucking care,” he murmured, his lids low.

She tried to smile through the ache he’d caused with his mouth. “Let this be a lesson. Never wear a kilt unless you’re ready to face the consequences.”

His laugh turned into a groan when she grasped him at the base of his cock and caressed him. “Another rule?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said and sat down, taking him in.

Heat flared through her. He rose into her, gripping her hips, never letting go. In moments like this, he was hers and she was his. No lines were blurred. This thing between them was simple and right. She had no questions or niggling doubts. Rising up and down, hearing the slap of their skin meeting didn’t need…anything. It just was, and it was perfection.

With sex they were always in motion and somehow standing still. The clock on them ticked by, but time meant nothing when they were joined like this. The dichotomies made sense when he was pulsing deep inside her. She didn’t want it to end. When Kate caught his passion-filled gaze, she could see Quinton didn’t either.

His nails dug into her hips as his dick reached deeper, harder. Her pussy slicked the way for him. The first crest of her orgasm was right there, turning her heartbeat into a loud thud banging in her ears. He had to know because he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down to his mouth. His lips and tongue matched their rhythm. Slow and deep, both his tongue and cock delved into her.