Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1 (33 page)

His mouth continued moving hotly over her breasts until he began working a path upward, nipping along her neck and kissing the edge of her mouth as he pulled himself into a sitting position, both his arms cradling her against him.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his breathing heavy. It wasn’t a great time to stop, but he would if she said the word. He wasn’t going to wreck his chances with her again. “I’m still the same man I was when we first met. I fight and I like winning and I make mistakes. I’m not perfect, Kate. I’m not like you.”

She pulled away a little, but it was hard to read her eyes in the dark.
Please don’t let her say “no”. Please let me be enough.

“I’m not perfect, either,” she confessed. “But I like fighting too. And I like winning. And if this is a mistake, there’s no one on earth I’d rather be making it with than you.”

That was good enough for him. He was about to capture her mouth in another kiss, but she was too quick. Deftly and with purpose, she reached for his legs, running her hands under the kilt and up his thighs, blazing a trail straight toward his cock.

But she stopped abruptly and pulled back, her eyes wide. “Holy crap, Julian. Are you wearing any underwear?”

Julian laughed, even as her hands whisked under his kilt again to ascertain for sure what was under his kilt. Her hand found his bare cock and grabbed it, her thumb rubbing over the tip with smooth efficiency.

“A true Scotsman never wears anything under his kilt,” he managed to say, jerking against her hand.

She smiled mischievously, her lips tilting at one corner. “But what if it was windy out there?” She choked. “Or cold?”

“It’s not cold,” he said, his voice muffled as he kissed along her collarbone. “In fact, I would argue that it’s very, very hot.”

He pulled at her hips then, pressing the vee of her legs against his groin.

“Hot,” she murmured. “Very.”

There was no doubt in either of their minds where the rest of their actions were headed. Julian reached into his sporran and lifted the flap. The contents were simple and always the same. Money. ID. Condoms.

“Tell me you do not have condoms in there,” Kate said with a low laugh against his ear.

He pulled the little package out with a flourish. “Another Scottish secret.”

She snatched it out of his hand and busied herself rolling it along his length, her movements swift and sure. The moment the condom was secure, he took charge of the situation. A few more seconds of her hands moving efficiently over his cock, and he’d be putting himself to shame.

Kate squealed with delight as he grabbed her around the waist and placed her once again back against the rushes. He ran his hands along her legs, higher and higher until he reached her panties, which were damp with slick, warm moisture, a testament to her passion as much as his throbbing erection was to his. Pausing only to sweep his thumb along the inner lining, releasing a gasp of pleasure as he rubbed against her clit, he pulled the panties down as quickly as he could. Julian barely registered that they were as white, silky and lacy as he remembered—and still so out of place for the setting. He didn’t give a damn. There was too much of her to stop now. The small lean-to was filled with the sounds of her pleasure, the feel of her skin against her gown, the scent of her perfume and the raw earthiness of sex.

“You have no idea how incredible you are,” he murmured, brushing the hair from her face, pausing for just a moment to savor the sight of her underneath him. She tried to turn her head away, but Julian held firm. “I mean it. You’re everything, Kate. Everything.”

She arched her back, grinding into him and causing all his gentlemanly reserve to plunge into a deep, dark hole he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to find again.

“I promise—I can be a lot more.”

There was no holding back after that. The moment he entered her, the sensations all around him exploded into a whirl, and he no longer knew what commanded his attention the most. All he knew was that when she latched her legs behind him, bringing him pounding into her with the deep, hard thrust he’d been trying to hold back, the control was one hundred percent hers.

Her kisses matched each plunge he took, both of them growing more insistent as their movements reached a frenzied pace.

What was left of his self-possession told him to slow down, to make the moment last for as long as possible, but there was no turning back. She rocked against him, releasing a whimper he caught with his mouth, her body arching up against him as she came. They fit together so perfectly, he felt each pulsating wave that started in her belly and washed over the rest of her almost at once, holding him tighter and tighter until he released his own orgasm with a hoarse yell.

As the last of the passion died away, he rested his forehead against hers, bracing himself by his elbows so he didn’t crush her with his weight. She shifted slightly, but kept her legs linked behind him so that their bodies remained intertwined, their clothes a puddle of fabric wrapping their midsections.

“I think I’m beginning to like the Scottish way of doing things,” Kate said with a sigh, the first to break the warm silence.

He kissed her eyelids before pulling away. “I guess the English aren’t so bad, either.” She looked adorable, lying there, flushed all over with the heat and glow of satisfaction.

“No, we aren’t,” Kate agreed with a laugh. She rolled over and kissed his neck, right where it tapered down to his shoulders. She let her lips linger there for a while, her breath warm and comforting. “You can have it, you know.”

Julian smiled lazily. “I thought I just did.”

She slapped him lightly on the stomach, her hand lingering there awhile too. Fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, moving down lower and lower. Then stopped, just short of his cock, which was twitching with both exhaustion and renewed interest.

“I meant Cornwall Park. It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want it.”

He stopped, waiting for the punch line or caveat. But her fingers picked up again, running up and down his muscles in a careless, soothing pattern. He grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

Her head nestled against him and he felt her smile. “I mean I’ve finally realized how silly we’ve been. I don’t care about the land, Julian. I care about you.”

She didn’t look at him as she spoke, and it was too dark to see much anyway, but he knew she meant it. His arms wrapped around her tighter. He couldn’t speak.

“If you want your public spectacle, you can have it,” she continued. “We can finish the game, but if you really want to win, I don’t mind making it a little easier on you.”

“I don’t need you to make it easy on me,” he said gruffly, though there was no malice in it. “I was close to winning.”

She laughed, short and loud. “You were not. I was killing you out there.”

“Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe you were.”

“But I can throw the game, if we’re planning on finishing.” She waved around the lean-to. “I find I have a bit of a soft spot for this old Renaissance Fair.”

“You don’t have to quit. We can see it through to the end.” He nuzzled at her neck, his fingers moving toward her breasts, still bare and within reach. At this point, he didn’t care about the land, either.

“I don’t like to think of it as quitting. It’s sacrificing for the good of the many—besides, this way we can both start moving things into our spaces. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got irate vendors demanding all sorts of answers. We can call this my charitable and utilitarian act of the year.”

He gave an exaggerated groan and covered his eyes. “You mean to tell me that after all this time, the only thing I needed to do to get you to give me the land was sleep with you?”

Kate laughed. “You mean to tell
me
that after all this time the only thing I needed to do to get you to sleep with me was play dress-up?”

He rolled her to face him, and all the laughter died from his lips. He cupped both sides of her face and ran the pad of his thumb along her mouth. “No. You didn’t have to do anything. I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you.”

She tried to look away, but he kept his arms firm. He brought his lips gently to hers, their kiss this time lacking any urgency. It was sweet and soft. Perfect.

“I lied,” Kate said the moment the kiss ended, their bodies entangled all over again, naked limbs no longer wet or clammy—just intertwined until it was difficult to tell where one of them ended and the other began.

“About what?”

“I’m still willing to throw the game tomorrow, but there are three conditions.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You can’t add conditions after we’ve already decided.”

She ignored him. “One. If I find you’ve placed any bets on the outcome of the chess match, I’m calling the gaming commission and reporting you.”

Julian grinned. “Done. What’s two?”

“Two. You have to let me go out with a grand exit. I don’t want to lose my street cred.”

“You have street cred? Who with? Crossing guards and Boy Scouts?”

She punched him playfully on the arm. “Hey, it’s my intelligence I’m laying out on the altar, here. Let me have a little pride.”

“Fine. You will emerge with your glorious head held high.”

“Excellent. Now, on to three.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Three. You have to do that to me again.”

A growl escaped his throat. “Right now?”

“Yes, please.”

So he did.
 

Chapter Nineteen

At Battle’s End

Kate and Julian snuck out of the lean-to a few hours later, when Kate was dry and tousled and smelled a little bit like a stale cowboy.

The plan was simple. Reschedule the match. Go home. Act normal. Once their events were over and done with, they could focus on what came next.

It wasn’t going to be easy, Kate knew that for sure. They’d existed so long in this strange, militant world they created that it would be hard to figure out the real details of life between them. Work. Play. How many different kinky costume combinations they could pull out of their respective closets.

But they could do it. The hardest part was already over.

“You could come back to my place,” Julian offered. They were trying to make a run for the parking lot, hidden by the line of trees surrounding the village, but he was making it very difficult to do any kind of motion that allowed her to remain standing. “We can deal with all this work stuff tomorrow.”

She wasn’t going to lie—her whole body wobbled in agreement. A strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist while she slept seemed like the perfect finish to a long, emotional day, and the smile lurking just at the edge of Julian’s mouth indicated that if they went anywhere near a bed, he’d continue to ravish each and every one of her senses until she no longer knew how many toes she had.

She looked down at her bare feet. Ten. She had ten toes, and there was straw sticking out between the littlest ones. Her shoes had disappeared among the rushes somewhere alongside the derringer. They were a small sacrifice to make.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” she said. “We both have a lot of work to do.”

That was an understatement. The Fauxhall Gardens were in two days, and she’d promised Lady Lovelace a detailed timeline of events. Julian, she was sure, had to do much of the same.

“And tomorrow?” he’d asked.

His persistence caught in her throat. “Let’s just get through the weekend for now. You go throw hammers and roar like a beast, and I’ll go help educate the masses. We can swap war stories after.”

“I don’t roar like a beast.”

Kate giggled. “Yes, you do.”

Julian swatted her playfully on the behind, but she made a dash for her car and slipped behind the wheel before his powers of persuasion could take any more hold over her than they already had. There were still several other vehicles in the parking lot but none belonging to anyone she knew. Everyone had probably gone home to rest. With any luck, Stuart and Michael handled the details of the rescheduled chess match so she could do some resting of her own.

As she pulled her car out, she saw Julian standing to the side, his hand raised in farewell and a foolish grin on his face. Rest would be difficult. The memory of his hands all over her body, and his words, soft and sweet, were going to make it hard to relax ever again.

The next day, the sky over Sherwood Forest was bright blue, the kind that was so vibrant no cloud dared show a single cumulus puff on either horizon, and the sun was gearing up to bore a hole through even the darkest sunglasses. Kate, however, wore a heavy red dress and carried an even heavier shawl. She’d promised Julian. No white gowns. At least not in public.

She’d been up almost since dawn, helping to get the second day of battle chess set up and organized. It was a small price to pay for the day before. She wouldn’t take back a single drop of rain, a single word or touch she and Julian had shared.

Kate looked around, taking in the scarcity of spectators—about a quarter of the previous day’s numbers. The news cameras had gotten all the coverage they needed for their story the day before, and most of the JARRS and SHS supporters were busy getting ready for the weekend. She was glad. The crowds suddenly seemed like an intrusion—a blockade. The fewer of them the better, and the faster they could all move on.