Mad About Plaid (11 page)

"Aye, Lucy?" he managed to get out, his hands coming to rest on her hips and itching to pull the skirt slowly up her thighs.

"I don't really want dinner right now."

His entire body stilled inside and then relief flooded in. He knew what she wanted, but he found himself asking, needing to hear her say it. "What do you want, Lucy?"

She glanced away for a moment, but when her gaze returned to his, it was filled with desire and resolution. "You, Ian." She kissed his mouth sweetly, her lips so soft, her breath warm and intoxicating. "Naked, preferably."

A punch of lust exploded in his chest and shot straight to his groin. Ian stopped holding back, stopped thinking. He kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, hot and hungry. She met him with just as much need and heat. They moaned in unison.

One hand traveled to her ass and he cupped a cheek, pressing her against him. Her leg hooked around his waist.
Hell yeah. Right there…
Her hand was under his shirt, hot little palm sliding up his back as she rubbed herself against his erection in a slow arc.

"Here, Ian. Right here," she said breathlessly breaking their kiss. "Please." She was shaking. So was he. He wasn't sure he'd make it up the steps anyway, so he grabbed her around the waist, took her off the step and around the corner, pressing her back flat against the wall. "Yes," she breathed. "Against the wall. Hurry."

His hands slid up her bare thighs, feeling kneading, moving to her ass and squeezing, his hand dipping between her legs from behind, fingers brushing the damp cotton. Christ, she was already wet. Lucy's moan and whispered pleadings and urgings as he stroked her, drove him crazy. Finally, he slipped a finger beneath her underwear and found her slick and hot.

So hot. So wet.

Needing more, he pulled aside the front of her dress and slid a hand inside her bra, pushing it aside. His mouth latched on to a hard nipple. He moved his other hand to the front of her, sliding once again beneath her panties to stroke and suckle her at the same time. She came with a scream, swift and hot. He wasn't sure he'd get through this after all.

Lucy relaxed in his arms. She fumbled with the other cup of her bra, reaching in with her hand. Ian straightened as she pulled out a condom. "Here," she said nearly dropping it, her breathing heavy.

He took it from her, his heart giving a painful squeeze at her flushed face and bright, dazed eyes. Lucy had the most amazing combination of carnal and sweet he'd ever encountered. He kissed her hard, taking the packet as she unbuttoned his cargo pants and tugged them down. "I can't wait," she said feverishly.

"Right there with you, lass," he muttered, helping her.

As soon as he sprang free, Lucy's hand was around him. She sighed as he gasped in pleasure. He wouldn't last if she didn't release him. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head. "Be good," he said before tearing the packet with his teeth.

"I don't want to be good," she said, squirming.

Lucy watched in fascination as he removed the condom and slid it on with one hand. It fit. The damn thing fit. Oh, Lord. She was antsy, her entire body flooded with a fierce desperation to connect with him, to join them together. She was wet and achy, her pulse pounding between her legs.

And then he was pushing into her. Lucy's head hit the back of the wall, lost in the sensation, in the relief. He was thick and hard and he filled her up in one long, slow stroke. Her insides clamped around him, achy, pleasure building again. His hand hooked under her knee and he held her still, pinning her against the wall.

Their shared breath was labored. Ian's forehead rested against her. "Is this what you want, Lucy?" he ground out, still not moving.

Anticipation filled her. She was pretty sure she could come like this… "Come on, Ian," she pleaded between pants. "Now is not the time to be chicken…"

He lifted his head, one dark eyebrow arched, and pierced her with a hungry look that rose to the challenge and shook her to her bones.

Oh, it was on. Thank God. Finally.

Gaze locked on her, Ian withdrew nearly all the way and entered her again in another long stroke, burying himself to the hilt and waiting a few seconds before starting all over again. After several strokes, Lucy's orgasm built heavy and thick. Her heart pounded so hard, so could barely hear. Her nails dug into his back.

She said things she thought she'd never say, urging and begging, her body shaking with need.

With a curse, and mumbling something about her driving him crazy, Ian's control finally snapped and he plunged into her hard and fast and deep. It was all Lucy could do to hold on for the ride and stay conscious when her world shattered and somehow came back together in a moment of utter perfection.

Pleasure zipped through her limbs, filling her up, making her see stars behind her eyelids and hear only the sound of her pounding pulse.

After the stars subsided and she could breathe again, the only thing she could manage was a weak, "Holy crap."

She could feel Ian's heart hammering against her chest and wanted to stay this way forever. But he released her and stepped back. "Stay here," he said, dealing with the condom and pulling up his boxer briefs and jeans, leaving them unzipped and unbuttoned. He looked sexy like that. Jeans undone, hair messed up, a sheen of sweat on his skin. He was beautiful.

As he went down the hall to the guest bathroom, Lucy tucked herself back into her bra and rearranged her shirt and skirt.

"We have two options," Ian said as he came back.

"Okay," she replied, feeling a little shaky, both physically and mentally.

"Eat now." He pressed into her and kissed her gently on the mouth. "Or go up to my room and we'll finish this."

"Didn't we just finish?"

"No, lass. That was just the appetizer. We haven't even gotten to the main course. Or dessert." He kissed her again, then looked in her eyes. "We're just getting started." His accent was thick, his words soft and packed with more than just the promise of pleasure, which Lucy knew he could deliver. There was a deeper meaning to his words, and he didn't try to hide it.

"Good," she found herself saying, suddenly wanting to stay away from the serious stuff. "I'm glad that's not all you got, MacLaren."

His mouth spread into a lop-sided grin. "You're asking for it, Walker. You know that don't you?"

Lucy gave a blatant shrug. She sure as hell did.

She squealed when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, telling her exactly what he had in mind as he carried her up the stairs fireman style. It'd be a long time before they had that dinner, Lucy thought with a happy smile.

Making dinner with Ian was just one of many highlights of the night. There was something intimate and domestic about cooking with him. Just the two of them in the dead of night, in the huge castle, and yet it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Several times, Lucy felt the rise of emotion-deep, overwhelming emotion that stung her eyes and made her throat thick, but she forced it back down, not wanting to ruin the moment.

They'd worked up an appetite. The trout was delicious and so were the potatoes and asparagus. The wine was good too.

"I haven't seen your brothers around the last couple days," she noted.

"They just got back from Inverness, visiting my great uncle. He's not doing so well. Think the death of my grandfather really rattled him."

"I'm sorry." Lucy took drink of her wine. "Do you have a lot of family here?"

"MacLarens everywhere. Lots of cousins on both sides of the pond. Our summer games are coming up. You should com—" Ian stopped himself, staring at his plate. Nerves shot through her and she realized she wanted him to ask her to stay. But he didn't. He just scowled at his food and pushed it around the plate.

"Elephant in the room," Lucy said quietly.

He lifted his gaze and nodded in agreement. But he didn't ask her to stay. He changed the subject, going on to talk about the games. Ian had no obligation to ask her to stay and yet the hurt was sharper than she expected. And there could be a dozen reasons why he hadn't. She could be an adult about this and not some doe-eyed, lovesick fool. Maybe he wanted her to speak up and say she wanted to stay.

But that idea, putting herself on the line like that to be potentially rejected, was a horror Lucy couldn't fathom.

She got through the rest of dinner, refusing to think any more about staying or emotions or the future. She'd focus on the here and now. As soon as Ian finished eating and sat back in his chair, she walked around the table to his chair. He pulled her into his lap. She smiled down at him, her hand traveling up his shoulder to cup his jaw. "Sleep with me, Lucy," he said softly.

She knew he didn't mean just sex. Lucy kissed him, stood, held out her hand, and led Ian up the stairs and into her room.

Chapter 11

Waking up with Lucy curled around him made Ian hard as a rock. The bed was smaller than his, but it kept them close, and he did like close where Lucy was concerned. Last night, loving her, learning her, making her scream his name or whisper it with tenderness . . . it had shaken him up.

She stirred and rolled off of him. The covers slipped, allowing him to admire the smooth skin and the sexy curve of her back and hip as she stretched like a lazy cat in the afternoon sun. Then, she glanced over her shoulder, all sleepy-eyed, and smiled at him.

He rubbed his chest, wincing a little.

"You all right?" she asked, her brow creasing in concern.

"Fine." Needing a distraction, he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. Her camera sat on the bedside table, so he grabbed it, turned it on, and began flipping through the most recent photographs as Lucy settled beside him, the sheets tucked under arms.

Wide panoramic views. Close-ups on small details that said so much about his home and the land. "This is the way I see it," he said, amazed. "I see these things everyday, see the beauty in them, and sometimes wonder if it's just me seeing it. But it's here. In your pictures."

The grin Lucy have him was blinding. "They'll go well with the article. With my pictures and Riley's writing, we'll have every reader of The Ambler itching to make a reservation."

Ian leaned over and kissed her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. For what it's worth, I think the business is going to be a resounding success."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. Besides the location and incredible house, you love the place. Your heart is in it. You care about keeping the integrity of the estate. People will appreciate that. You're lucky…"

Ian stopped clicking through pictures and gave her a questioning look.

"You're doing something you love, something that has meaning to you. I've always thought those were the best kinds of jobs to have."

"So why don't you do the same?" he asked. "You love taking photographs. And they're amazing, Lucy. You could turn it into a business, do something you love too. Question is," he ventured, knowing he was treading on thin ice from last time he mentioned it, but wanting her to be happy, "why aren't you?"

She stiffened and shrugged. "I don't know."

He turned toward her, resting his shoulder on the headboard. "Yeah, you do. You just don't want to admit it."

Her mouth thinned and her brown eyes shot fire. "So one night with me and suddenly you know all about it?"

"No," he said slowly, "But I do know when I see someone who's afraid to try."

Lucy withdrew, feeling like she'd just been slapped. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something rude, something immature, but nothing came. What the hell did he know? Obviously enough. He'd just exposed the heart of the issue, ripped it wide open. It was one thing to know it, but to hear it from him, to realize she was so transparent. Did she have SCARED written across her forehead? Was she that big of a wuss that everyone could see it?

"Lucy wait," he said, regret in his voice as she got out of bed, pulling the sheet with her. "I don't want it to end like this."

End?
She whirled on him, her heart squeezing painfully, as he got out of bed and pulled on his boxer briefs. She hadn't wanted it to end at all. But apparently Ian did. He saw an ending, though he saw it going much better than this. Well, at least she had her answer. He wouldn't be asking her to stay.

At least she hadn't made a fool of herself by admitting how she felt, that she wanted more. More than a freaking ending.

"What does it matter?" she said in a controlled tone. "An end is an end, Ian." And the words made her sick.

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, she knew she was being a coward. He hadn't done anything wrong. She'd known what she was getting into. He was a good guy. One of the best. So she couldn't fault him for anything really. She couldn't even fault him for not loving her back.

God, she'd made such a mess of things. As usual.

"Lucy." Ian's voice came through the door along with a soft knock. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business what you chose to do with your life. I shouldn't have gone there…" He cursed under his breath. "Not sure why I did."