Wicked in a Kilt (Hot Scots Book 2)
Page 27
She hurried after him. "Where are your clothes?"
"In the dryer."
"Why?"
"Because they were wet after I washed them."
"How did they get dirty?" she asked. He'd looked spic and span at the club, and from what she remembered of after, he'd been dirt-free in her bedroom. She tried to shove her hands in her pockets, but the damn yoga pants didn't have any. Don't think about last night, don't think about it, don't you do it.
She sidled along the wall, keeping a distance between them.
"Couldn't sleep," he said, pausing at the laundry room door. "So I brewed up some of your herbal tea, the stuff that's supposed to make you sleepy, but then I spilled it all over myself."
"You're not burned, are you?"
"No." He walked into the laundry room and yanked the dryer door open, huffing out a breath as he plunged his hands inside to retrieve his clothes. While he lumped them in his arms, he threw her a sidelong glance. "Unless you want to see me without this towel, Mel, you better leave."
Adam without the towel? Molten desire erupted inside her, spreading down between her thighs, triggering a dampness there. Shit.
He watched her and his lips parted, his tongue tracing the inner edge of his lower lip.
She could do nothing except stare at his chest, at the beads of moisture still clinging to his skin.
Adam dropped his clothes and sauntered toward her, stopping close enough the scent of his aftershave tantalized her with hints of cedar and spice. He planted his hands on the wall at either side of her shoulders, dipping his head down to whisper in her ear. "You're looking at me like you did last night. Like you want to lick me from head to toe."
Her clitoris pulsed, as if he'd caressed her there. She could almost feel his fingers on her. It didn't help that his voice had lowered to a deep, sensuous rumble. A bit too breathless for her peace of mind, she said, "Don't be ridiculous."
"Last night you wanted me to kiss you. Practically begged me."
His lips quivered on her earlobe, the sensation rippling through her all the way down to her core. "It was a mistake."
"But you knew what you were doing."
"Unfortunately."
He shifted his body closer, though not quite near enough for his muscles, or any other part of him, to brush against her. "You still want me to kiss you. I can feel it."
She tried for a sarcastic laugh, but it came out as a piglike snort.
"Damn," he said, "you really know how to turn a guy on."
Mel latched onto a slender thread of screwy logic, anxious to end this. "That's right, I'm not at all sexy without a glass or two of champagne in me. The old, boring control freak is back and she's here to stay."
"You're not a freak." He closed his lips around her earlobe, suckling, flicking his tongue across it. "And I'm hot for you no matter what noises you make. Snort like a pig, bark like a dog, I don't care."
"Gee, what a flattering portrait of me." Oh damn. Her voice was still too breathless for convincing sarcasm. Her gaze flittered over his face and his smooth, clean skin. "How did you shave? You weren't planning to stay the night."
"I used your razor." He ran his hand up and down his jaw, his gaze traveling down to her legs. "Next time you shave, you'll think of me. Maybe you'll even feel me on your skin."
Oh great. Now she would think of him next time — every time — she used that razor, the one that had kissed his skin.
Adam slid a hand down her arm to her waist, curving it around her hip. He covered her ear with his mouth, injecting his voice straight into her. "In the shower, I was imagining you in there with me. Wet. Naked. Rubbing up against me. I pretended I was fucking you instead of my hand."
Her pulse raced so fast and hard her head grew light. And of course, a vision exploded in her mind, of Adam stroking himself in the shower, grunting and groaning and throwing his head back as he climaxed.
While fantasizing about her.
No man had ever confessed to such a thing before. His statement would've struck her with the same power whether he'd made it up or really had done it. Moments ago. Fifteen feet from this spot. Her bra suddenly felt tight. Her nipples shot rigid, straining against the fabric.
His hand on her hip glided down, cupping her ass. "I'm going to kiss you. Now. If you don't want it, walk away."
Moving his head, he forced her to tip her head back to see him as he ran his tongue across his front teeth, back and forth, back and forth, and for a heart-stopping second she wondered if he was imagining exploring her with that tongue.
"Adam — "
"Leave, or I'm kissing you."
She ought to leave. Part of her wanted to. But a far more powerful part craved his mouth like she'd never craved anything in her life. Since she must've already wrecked their friendship with her antics last night, what harm could it do to enjoy a taste? Screwy logic again and you know it.
To hell with logic. She could indulge in one kiss before she enacted her new life plan. They could still be friends afterward. One kiss, nothing more.
Adam brushed his lips across hers, the barest contact, but it robbed her of breath. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body came alive, every nerve excited, every hair taut. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, so delicately, and she couldn't stop her lips from parting for him, pleading for him to take her mouth. And oh, she burned for him to do exactly that.
His tongue stole inside her mouth, stroking over hers, lingering with each silken caress, teasing her into responding. Still, he kept the pace languid, tormenting her with every lap, exploring her mouth as if he planned on spending days just kissing her. His hand massaged her ass, and as his fingers kneaded harder and faster, his tongue thrust hotter and stronger, propelling her need to dizzying heights.
She flattened her palms on his six-pack abs, dragging them down to the towel. Slipping her fingertips between the terrycloth and his skin, she tugged on the towel to urge him closer — or maybe to dislodge the towel. His tongue was driving her mad, driving out reason, until she had no clue what she was doing.
With both hands, he grasped her hips and dragged her into him, his erection trapped between their bodies. He rocked it against her. She yearned to enact one of her secret fantasies, to close her hand around his cock and pump until he had no choice but to take her right here, right now.
No. She didn't want that. She couldn't. Could she?
He pulled back, studying her.
"Adam, this was..." She shook her head, biting down on her lip. "A gigantic mistake."
She spun around and raced out of the laundry room.
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Wicked in a Kilt
Copyright © 2017 by Lisa A. Shiel
All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictional. No portion of this book may be copied, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, including recording, photocopying, or inclusion in any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher and author, except for brief excerpts quoted in published reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-934631-86-7 (pbk.)
ISBN: 978-1-934631-87-4 (EPUB ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-934631-85-0 (Kindle ebook)
Jacobsville Books
www.JacobsvilleBooks.com
Publisher's Cataloging-in-Publication Data
provided by Five Rainbows Cataloging Services
Names: Durand, Anna.
Title: Wicked in a kilt / Anna Durand.
Description: Lake Linden, MI : Jacobsville Books, 2017. | Series: Hot Scots, bk. 2.
Identifiers: ISBN 978-1-934631-86-7 (pbk.) | ISBN 978-1-934631-87-4 (EPUB ebook) | ISBN 978-1-934631-85-0 (Kindle ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Man-woman relationships--Fiction. | Scots--Fiction. | Chicago (Ill.)--Fiction. | Michigan--Fiction. | Romance fiction. | BIS
AC: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary. | GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3604.U724 W53 2016 (print) | LCC PS3604.U724 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6--dc23.