by Anna Durand
"Yes." The word burst from my lips, unhindered by silly things like forethought and sanity. His voice intoxicated me faster than any whisky.
He circled his hands around my waist, reaching for the zipper of my dress. I sucked in a breath when his fingertips tickled my bare skin, already flushed with heat and primed for his touch. He pulled the zipper down in slow motion, his fingers flitting over my flesh in its wake, the drawn-out zzzzzzt of the zipper becoming the most erotic thing I'd ever heard. When he'd exposed my entire back, he flattened his palms on my skin and tugged me closer.
"Soft as silk," he purred into my ear, then his hands shifted to spread the dress wide, and cool air kissed my flesh. His sultry breaths whispered over my ear, across the tender skin beneath it.
Still, I couldn't move. My pulse beat so fast it throbbed in my ears. My breasts ached for his hands, his mouth, anything to relieve the agony of wanting.
His shoulders sagged, his body listing toward me as he flicked the straps off my shoulders and the dress tumbled down to pool around my feet. Lachlan took a half step back, raking his gaze over me. I stood motionless, in nothing but a bra and panties — and my heels. His voice was rough and strained when commanded, "Take off the rest."
Just like that, my body roused from its paralysis. As if in a trance, I shed my bra and panties under his scorching gaze. When I kicked off my heels, he licked his lips with the look of a predator intent on consuming his prey. My sex pulsated at the thought, at the desperate hope he would consume me right here, right now.
Faster than I'd ever seen anyone move, he flung off his shirt, slacks, socks, shoes. Everything hit the floor with a clunk or sailed down onto a chair or the dresser. Confronted with his sudden nakedness, and his raging erection, I struggled for breath. My hand rose to my throat, my fingers stroked my skin.
"To bed," he commanded.
Didn't have to tell me twice. I tossed the blanket and top sheet out of the way and dropped onto my back on the bed, one arm bent above my head.
Lachlan crawled over me on hands and knees, settling in beside me on his back. He yanked the covers over us both. "Good night, Erica."
I swiveled my head toward him. Was he freaking kidding? I pushed up on one elbow to glare at him. "How do you expect me to sleep?"
He assumed the appearance of relaxation, despite his rigid length twitching under the covers. "Now you've got something to look forward to in the morning."
I slugged his arm, earning no reaction. "Jackass."
Only then did he turn to gaze at me with faux innocence. "There's no need for insults, gràidh."
"You got me all wound up on purpose." I flopped back onto the mattress amid a flutter of sheets and a faint poof from my pillow. "You're a tease."
"No, I'm an inveterate seducer. Remember?"
"Hmph."
He lifted one arm, making room for me. "Come here."
As usual, for reasons I couldn't comprehend, I obeyed and cuddled up against his side. My attention deviated to the tented covers, and I squirmed a little.
"Shh," he said, lowering his arm to cradle me close. "I'll help you relax."
I started to ask how, but then he began humming softly. The tune was unfamiliar, yet beautiful and soothing, like a lullaby. I stretched my arm across his chest, snuggling closer, my ear plastered to his muscles right over his heart. Its beats lulled me further, luring me ever downward into slumber.
The instant before my senses shut down, his voice rumbled low and sweet. "Sleep well, mo leannan."
Chapter Eighteen
I woke in the morning to the sound of panting and Lachlan muttering nonsense words. Cracking my lids, I squinted at him. Lying on my side facing him, I had a perfect view across his body, since he lay on his back. Casey sprawled between Lachlan's thighs on top of the covers, with his front paws and head on the Scot's exposed belly. Lachlan scratched Casey's head and mumbled more baby-talk gibberish. The dog lapped it up, panting and making little chuffing noises. The sight of the males in my life bonding elicited a funny feeling in my chest.
I cleared my throat. "Am I interrupting?"
"You're awake." Lachlan aimed a playful smile at me. "Thought you'd sleep all day."
"What time is it?"
"After ten."
I glanced at the bedside clock, but it agreed with him. Never in my life had I slept past ten unless I was sick.
Casey leaped up and lunged toward me to slop a kiss on my cheek. Spluttering, I pushed him away. He bounded off the bed, rocking it wildly. Once the aftershocks calmed, Lachlan rolled onto his side to face me.
"Good morning, lass," he said, stealing a quick, soft kiss from me.
"Morning."
"Have a good sleep?" He ran his fingertip along the sheet's edge, where it just covered my breasts.
"Mmm." I flipped onto my stomach. The sheet slipped off my breasts, but still covered my buttocks. When I propped my torso up on both elbows, my breasts dangled beneath me. "Haven't slept that soundly in years."
Lachlan trailed his fingertips up my spine, drawing a tingling line up my flesh. "And all without sex."
I peeked back at him over my shoulder. "You made me a promise last night."
"And I intend to keep it." He placed an open-mouth kiss on my nape. "But first, I have another gift for you, if it won't offend my gràidh."
"No, of course not." I splayed my fingers over my pillow, studying the swirling patterns on the fabric. "I'm sorry about last night. I love the dress." When his fingers stilled on my back, I cast him a sideways glance. "I'm just not used to men buying me expensive presents."
"Ah, but you deserve it." He sat up, twisting around to reach down to the floor and retrieve an object. I heard plastic rustling, then he called over his shoulder, "Shut your eyes, please."
I shut them, resting my chin on my linked hands.
A second later, something plush and fuzzy touched down on the skin of my lower back. The thing tiptoed up my spine, vertebra by vertebra, dragging a smaller fuzzy thing behind it. Lachlan's lips grazed my ear. "You can look now."
I opened my eyes and a small, dark-colored object lighted on my shoulder. Lachlan held the stuffed animal there until I took it in one hand. My eyes widened for a heartbeat. The plush Tyrannosaurus rex gazed up at me with cat-like amber eyes, its pudgy little arms reaching out to me. The words "Field Museum Chicago" were embroidered on its derriere. Warmth blossomed in my chest, encompassing my heart. He'd gone back to the museum store to buy me a present — this present, the one that proved he'd really listened when I told him about my childhood dream. I bumped my nose into the T. rex's snout. "I love this too. Thank you, Lachlan."
He laid on his side again, one hand resting on my back. "It seemed the perfect gift for a dinosaur enthusiast like yourself."
The words tugged at my heart. Presley had never bought me anything more thoughtful than a bouquet of daisies from the grocery store. Rich as he was, he disliked sharing his wealth — but didn't mind stealing more from the elderly and blaming me for his crimes.
Lachlan traced the backs of his fingers up my cheek, pulling me back to the present. "What troubles you on this bonnie morning?"
"Nothing." Part of me yearned to spill everything to him, but how much did I really know about the man in my bed? Suddenly, the question seemed paramount. I turned my face toward him, and one of his fingers slipped between my lips. He withdrew his hand and sucked it into his mouth, making a little sound of pleasure. I tried to smile, but it faltered. "Don't you ever wonder about me?"
"Wonder?" His brow crinkled.
"Aren't you curious about me? About my life? My past?" Somehow, my simmering curiosity about him drove me to ponder whether he cared to know anything about me. How could he not wonder when I burned with a need to know more about him?
"Of course," he answered, with a half-hearted shrug. "But it's against the rules. You reminded me of that when your mother called the other evening."
So
I had. Rats. In my panic to steer him away from subjects too close to my legal problems, I'd accidentally put him off asking any personal questions of me.
I kicked my feet out from under the sheet, so it covered only my buttocks, and bent my knees to swing my feet in the air. Fingering the tubby arms of the stuffed T. rex, struggling to hit a nonchalant tone of my own, I told him, "You could, you know, ask me a few questions. If you want."
"Ah…" He turned onto his back, linking his hands under his head. "That would be violating our agreement."
Despite his casual posture, his mouth had tightened. Probably didn't want me asking him questions in return. Ugh. What had I expected? I agreed to this insane arrangement, which meant I had to deal with the consequences of it and tamp down my curiosity. Easy to say, not so easy to accomplish.
I sprang up into a sitting position, rotating my legs off the bed to sit at the edge of the mattress, my hands clamped over it. Shoulders slumped, I stared at my bare feet.
Lachlan's hand found my back, gliding up it in slow circles. I couldn't help leaning into the touch.
As usual, my mouth got the better of me. "Don't you want to know anything about me? I don't know that much about you. You have brothers and sisters and once showed a girl your penis in a barn, that's about it." I yanked the sheet around my waist to shield my privates. "I don't know your favorite color, your favorite song, anything."
He groaned, his hand falling away from my back. He plucked at the sheet and grumbled, "My favorite color is blue. I don't have a favorite song. What else would you like to know?"
I covered my eyes with my hands. Ugh, what was I doing? Trying to force emotional intimacy with a man who wanted none of it.
Lachlan sighed, then slipped an arm around my waist, urging me back down onto the bed. I went with him, landing on my back with him straddling me, his face hovering over mine. He braced himself on his elbows, with his hands at either side of my face. He combed his fingers through my hair, his eyes glowing an otherworldly blue in the morning light. "I want to know everything about you, but I'll be leaving soon. Can we not just enjoy this time together?"
He wanted to know me. Though he still wouldn't act on that desire, the realization he did care buoyed my spirits. "Yeah. Sure."
"Good."
He nibbled my lower lip, his tongue darting out to sneak between my lips, tantalizing me with a taste of him. I moaned, shoved my hand into his hair, desperate to tug him closer. He resisted, scraping his mouth over mine until I opened for him. He seized the chance to plaster his lips to mine, while his tongue forged deep, lashing against mine in a wild dance. I sucked on his tongue, earning a groan from him.
He peeled his mouth away and shifted off me, his leg pressed to mine, his erection jutting over my belly. He swooped down between my thighs. I spread them wide, granting him full access, and he parted my folds with his thumb and forefinger, sliding his middle finger down to stroke me. I choked back a throaty cry, my hands fisted in the sheets, heels planted in the mattress. His thumb and forefinger petted my folds while his middle finger swept up and down my slick flesh. The tip of his finger swirled around my clitoris, round and round, harder and harder, until he thrust his fingertip into the head of my clit. Pleasure shot through me, pulsed in my sex, and I bucked into his fingers, thrashing my hips in a desperate plea for more.
"You like this," he rumbled, pressing his cheek to mine. "What else do you like?"
"Oh," I breathed, as his finger toyed with my nub. I clutched at his shoulders, clawing and whimpering with wanton disregard for my composure or what he might think of me like this. "I like e-everything you do to me."
His finger dove down to plunge inside me. My back arched, a gasp frozen in my throat. His breaths rasped near my ear, ragged and heavy, sexy as hell.
"Erica." His rough voice morphed my name into an entreaty, his voice deeper, his accent thicker and hotter than ever. "Do ye want mah hand or mah mouth?"
I writhed and dug my nails into his shoulders as he twirled his finger around my clit. "Mouth, please."
He lunged down to kneel between my thighs. I raised my knees, letting them fall wide apart, and my body hummed with a pent-up hunger. He gazed down at my sex with that odd reverence, licking his lips in a long, languorous sweep of his tongue. "I need to feast on ye. Now."
"Yes, please, yes."
My eyelids sealed shut as his mouth found my clitoris, his tongue laving it with gentle strokes that swiftly intensified into ravenous lashes. I thrust my hands into his hair, clawing at his scalp, whimpering from the intensity of the sensations he provoked in me.
Far away in the background, the doorbell chimed. I struggled to remember what that meant, but then Lachlan plunged one finger inside me, then two, curving them into the sweet spot just inside my opening. My whole body convulsed. I flung my hands up to clench them in my pillow, lost to the ecstasy of his clever fingers.
The doorbell chimed again. Casey began barking, and something in the tone of his barks snapped me out of the spell Lachlan had woven around me. I sprang up, pushing Lachlan away. On his knees, off kilter with one hand on the bed, he gaped at me.
"I have to see who's at the door," I said and jumped off the bed to snag my robe from the back of the door and yank it on.
"Ye've gotta be kidding me." Lachlan's jaw had fallen open. His wide eyes tracked my movements, and his shoulders wilted when I rushed out the bedroom door.
I flashed him an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
Casey stood sentry at the front door, his barks now interspersed with sharp snarls. He bounced on his front feet, though not with the glee he reserved for Lachlan. No, the dog was disturbed. And I could think of only one person who evoked this response in Casey. My heart thudded. A chill raced over my skin, eradicating the heat Lachlan had so easily stoked in me. Goosebumps prickled my arms. I shooed Casey away from the door and grasped the knob, then hesitated. I did not want to see who was on the other side. I hauled in a deep breath and swung the door open.
Presley Cichon beamed his trademark laser-white smile at me, the one that used to make my stomach flutter. These days, it made my stomach roil. He leaned one shoulder on the door jamb. "Morning, babe. Are those pink cheeks for me?"
I stared at him. Pink cheeks? Oh crap. I was still flushed from Lachlan's ministrations. I glanced over my shoulder, but Lachlan hadn't emerged from the bedroom. Squaring my shoulders, I glared at Presley. "What do you want this time?"
"To come in and talk."
"Why?"
He rolled his eyes. Dressed in a T-shirt and skin-tight jeans — designer, no doubt — he looked like a typical trust-funder out slumming it in the burbs. "About all the stuff we haven't talked about. Let's clear the air, babe."
"Clear the air?" I shook my head, amazed at his audacity. "You set me up and now you want to play nice? Gimme a break."
He moved as if to step through the doorway. I slapped a palm on the jamb and grasped the door's edge in my other hand, effectively blocking him. He frowned for a split second, but then cranked his lips into a smile again. "Come on, Erica. Maybe I want to apologize."
Maybe he wanted to? I snorted. "Go peddle your bullshit somewhere else."
Presley compressed his lips, grinding his teeth. A dark emotion flashed in his eyes. "Why you gotta be such a bitch all the time?"
A sharp retort popped into my mind, but I bit it back. He wanted to get a rise out of me, for some reason, and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Go home, Presley."
"Let me in first."
"No."
He stepped a foot over the threshold, his body inches from mine. I kicked at his designer sneaker. He chortled, but then something past my shoulder caught his attention and he froze. His eyebrows lifted. "So, you are banging Scotch Tape."
I glanced back to see Lachlan at the entrance to the hallway, dressed in nothing but his low-slung jeans, with the button unhooked. He stood with his feet wide, hands coiled at his sides, yet his
expression remained impassive. His eyes, however, were locked on Presley.
My ex-lover glowered at my current lover. "What's your game, Scottie?"
Lachlan arched one brow but said nothing.
"Go away," I hissed at Presley, shoving against his chest. "No way in hell you're ever getting inside my house."
Presley bored his gaze into me for a second, then spun on his heels and stomped away from the house to his obnoxious-yellow sports car. As I shut the door, tires squealed on the street. I rested my forehead on the door. When I'd been with Presley, he'd barely set foot in my house because he couldn't fathom why I'd want to spend time here when I could be in his luxurious penthouse. It never occurred to him I wanted to share my world with him. He scoffed at the suburbs. Now that we'd broken up, and he'd framed me for embezzlement, all he wanted was to get inside my house. Bizarre.
A hand gripped my shoulder. I jumped.
"Easy," Lachlan said. "He's gone."
I raised my head, shuffling around to face him. "You didn't throttle Presley this time."
Lachlan closed in, backing me up to the door, planting his hands at either side of my shoulders, surrounding me with his body. "You seemed to have things in hand and I didn't want to barge in where I'm not wanted, like last time."
"You were wanted then." I placed a palm on his bare chest, absorbing the heat of him, relishing the firmness of his muscles. "And you're wanted now."
"Am I?" He pinned me to the door, sweeping aside the folds of my robe to rub his groin into mine, his erection hard and thick.
"Oh, yes." I rolled my hips into him.
"Well then." He picked me up and rushed down the hallway into the bedroom, plopped me onto the bed, and stripped off his jeans. "Best take advantage of the moment, eh?"
I grinned, flipping my robe open to expose my nakedness. "Take advantage of me anytime, for as long as you want."
He pounced on me, and soon I'd forgotten all about my unwanted visitor.