Lachlan

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Lachlan Page 21

by D. B. Reynolds


  “Better?” he asked, just as someone knocked on the door. Walking over, he opened the door to a very young woman who handed him a tray while craning her neck trying to see around him. She was obviously curious about his guest, since the food couldn’t be for Lachlan. “Thank you, Bailey.”

  “O’ coorse, Lachlan. Is thare anythin’ else ah kin git ye?”

  Even if she hadn’t left off Lachlan’s title—which, it was worth noting, her chef boss hadn’t done—the adoring tone of girl’s offer was enough to give away her obvious crush. One that Lachlan just as obviously didn’t return. Probably because the girl couldn’t be more than eighteen years old. Even if he hadn’t been a 173-year-old vampire, he’d have been too old for her.

  Okay, sure, he was a lot older than Julia was, too. But at least she was an adult, with life and, let’s face it, sexual experience behind her.

  “No, this is it. Thanks, Bailey. We’ll keep the tray overnight.”

  “Oh.” The girl’s disappointment was plain. “Weel, see ye th’morra, then, ah guess.”

  “Aye. Th’morra.” He closed the door without further conversation then turned, still holding the covered tray. He winced when he saw Julia watching. “She has a crush. She’ll get over it.”

  Julia laughed as she took the tray from him. “Don’t hold your breath. She’s in love.”

  “Shite. I’ve known her since she was born, for Christ’s sake.”

  She smiled as she uncovered the tray and found a ginormous sandwich. “I can’t eat all this,” she said, turning to give him a disbelieving look. “Do I look like I can eat all this?”

  It was Lachlan’s turn to laugh. “Definitely not,” he said staunchly, then walked over to look over her shoulder. “Hell, absolutely not. Maybe he felt he had something to prove, what with you being a chef yourself and all.”

  “I’m not a chef,” she insisted. “I’m not even a good fucking cook.” She lifted the top piece of bread from half the sandwich, and removed most the meat—roast beef, nicely pink—then put the half-sandwich back together and took a bite. The bread was delicious and so was the rest of it, with a horseradish sauce that was divine. She took another bite and a sip from the glass of red wine on the tray before saying, “Your Graeme knows his food. This is great.”

  Lachlan was watching her like he wouldn’t mind taking a bite.

  “You want some?” she asked, holding out the modified half-sandwich.

  He grinned and said, “I do,” as he strolled over and put an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him and burying his face against her neck. “But not of the sandwich.”

  Julia’s entire body reacted to the crooning sound of his voice, the heat of his breath against her skin. It was as if every part of her remembered the thrill of his bite, the erotic feel of his weight on top of her, the sensuous push of his cock inside her. She shivered, and he pulled her closer, until his erection was a hard, thick rod against her belly.

  “Lachlan,” she whispered, dropping the sandwich to tangle her fingers in his hair, grateful for the irrelevant fact that she didn’t have to reach as far to kiss him when she was wearing her spikey heels.

  “Still hungry?” he growled, one hand dropping to her butt, pushing her even harder against his stiff cock.

  “I can eat the sandwich later,” she whispered urgently, then put her hands against his chest and shoved him back to the bed. He backed up obligingly, but she didn’t have any illusions that it was her strength that moved him. The man was like a rock. A big, hot, muscled and beautiful fucking rock. And he was hers. At least for now.

  LACHLAN LET HIMSELF fall back onto the bed, pulling Julia down on top of him. She kicked off those fantastic fuck-me heels, then pulled her tight skirt up over her thighs and straddled him. Her breath was coming fast and hard, her breasts pushed against her blouse in a way that accented the firm points of her nipples. He remembered the taste of those breasts and wanted more. Julia leaned over to kiss him, rubbing her silken-clad pussy against the ridge of his cock where it was crushed behind the zipper of his jeans. It appeared she was planning on being on top for this encounter, but he wasn’t having it. Maybe later, but right now, he wanted to fuck her in the rawest sense of the word.

  Hands on her hips, he rolled her under him, ignoring her protest. “Later, princess,” he growled, and reached under her skirt to rip her panties away. Julia moaned and tried to help him free his cock, her fingers tangling with his on the belt buckle, until he took her hands in one of his and held them while he used his other hand to open his belt and shove down his zipper. His cock surged into his hand, more than ready to slide into her hot, creamy pussy. Freeing her hands, he shoved her skirt all the way to her waist and spread her legs even farther, making room between her thighs, as she thrust her hips upward, seeking the hard press of his cock.

  “Here you go, love.” Lining his cock up with her hot and welcoming sex, he inserted only the very tip, then with both his hands braced to either side of her head, he slammed his full length into her body, shoving through the tight slickness of her sheath as it surrounded him in a silky caress. He groaned when his cock slammed up against her cervix, hearing her sharp intake of breath as her arms closed around his neck. He started pounding her sweet pussy, fucking her with an urgency that had been hounding him since their fight on the highway with the enemy vamps. The violence and passion of their encounter, the sight of Julia standing there in her skin-tight skirt and sky-high heels, the steam still wafting off her gun barrel in the dampness of a Scottish night . . . he’d have taken her right then and there if they hadn’t needed to get away before anyone saw them.

  But now she was underneath him, half-naked, her pussy all slick and hungry, breasts heaving as he ripped her blouse open and yanked down the lacy cup of her bra, to suck a plump nipple into his mouth. Julia made a sound that could have been protest—for the bra or because she didn’t want it between them. Either way, he ignored it. He enjoyed teasing her, not giving her what she wanted until it pleased him. He liked her desperate and hungry, nails digging into his flesh as she tried to draw him deeper, legs clasped over his ass.

  He lowered his head and took her mouth in a savage kiss when her body rippled with the first waves of orgasm, drinking her scream as the climax grew and she bucked hard against him. She clung to his shoulders with desperate passion, as he never stopped thrusting, slamming through the hard grasp of her inner muscles, eased by the rush of satiny cream that flowed slick and hot over his shaft. He rode her climax until it surrendered, leaving her stunned by its power, her body shuddering in the aftermath. And then he flipped her to her belly, pulled her hips high, and spread her thighs wide, leaving her sweet pussy completely open to the furious demands of his cock.

  Julia’s cry was muffled by her arms as her body tightened in a fresh orgasm, her fingers digging into the sheets, twisting the fabric into knots as she held on, straining helplessly against the convulsing muscles of her abdomen, the clenching of her pussy, the tightening of her pretty nipples until they were as hard as the cock he thrust into her . . . until his body finally yielded. He groaned as the heavy pressure built in his balls, until with a final, agonizing grind, the hot rush of his orgasm roared down his cock and splashed into his woman. His.

  Julia Harper was his and no one else’s. His to fuck, his to protect. And in that moment, he knew he’d destroy anyone—man or vampire—who tried to harm her.

  JULIA STOOD IN THE shower, face raised to the soft rush of steamy water, while heat of an entirely different sort seeped into her bones from Lachlan’s powerful body standing behind her. She still couldn’t understand her own easy surrender to his sexual demands, the hunger for him that left her helpless to resist. Of course, it was difficult to think beyond the pleasure he gave her, whether it was the unyielding thrust of his cock, or the brutal thrill of him flexing deep inside her as he came, the heat of his climax bot
h a claiming and a triumph.

  His arms came around her, turning her to face him as he reached up and did something to the shower head that turned the water’s soft rush into a pounding heat against her back. She moaned with pleasure, resting her forehead on that fabulous chest while the water massaged muscles taut with strain from the long drive and the fight that had interrupted it. She kept replaying in her mind the moment she’d seen the enemy vampire rise up and go after Lachlan, the slow tightening of her finger on the trigger just as she’d been taught, the realization that killing a living, breathing person was vastly different than putting holes in a paper target.

  She didn’t regret killing the vampire, though. She couldn’t, not with Lachlan’s life on the line. It didn’t trouble her that she’d killed, it troubled her that it didn’t trouble her.

  “You’re thinking way too hard, princess.”

  She kissed his throat as the deep rumble of his voice sent shivers over her skin, despite the steamy shower enclosure. “The fight,” she admitted. “I keep playing it in my head, trying to figure out if I should have done something differently.”

  “What else could you have done?”

  “That’s just it. Nothing.”

  He was quiet for a moment, strong hands sweeping up and down her back, adding to the massaging effect of the pulsing water. “Come on,” he said, reaching around her to turn off the shower. “You need some food. It’ll help you think.”

  Julia gratefully took the towel he offered from a heated rod just outside the oversized shower stall, wrapping it over her shoulders like a long cape, not even trying to dry the rest of her body. When Lachlan threw her another towel, this one smaller, she did a quick squeeze of her long hair and wound the towel around her head like a turban. Lachlan wasn’t paying any attention by then, too busy drying himself with long seductive strokes that highlighted every muscle and sinew of that beautiful body. Was he doing it on purpose? Showing off? Teasing her with future intent? She swallowed a groan and turned her back to him, pulling the big towel from her shoulders and bending over to dry off her calves, her thighs, the soft, swollen flesh between them.

  “You keep up with that, and you’ll never make it back to your dinner,” he commented matter-of-factly.

  She raised her head and turned, eyes wide as she took in his relaxed slump against the marble countertop, and the hard jut of his cock along his thigh, while gold shards sparked like lightening through his eyes.

  She stared. “You’re insatiable! How do you do that?”

  He smiled, seeming amused. “I’m not the one doing it, princess.”

  A surge of satisfaction warmed Julia’s heart at the realization she wasn’t the only one being swept away by their undeniable chemistry. It didn’t make it go away, or lessen its pull, but at least she wasn’t alone in it.

  “Well, tell it to relax. I’m starving.”

  He laughed out loud at that, then straightened from his slouch and walked over to steal a wet and languid kiss that had her rethinking how hungry she was and whether dinner could wait. It was only a sandwich.

  But he didn’t give her the option, breaking off the kiss and saying, “I’ll meet you out there,” as he left the bathroom.

  Julia sighed. Hopeless. That’s what she was. Hopeless against the dark flame of his demands, the intense electrical spark of this damn sexual attraction between them. She told herself that’s all it was. Hormones and mutual desire. A purely physical, chemical thing.

  She finished drying off, then snagged the thick terry cloth robe hanging from a hook on the door. A slight twinge of something that might have been jealousy stabbed her before she realized the robe was much too big and was clearly meant for Lachlan’s use.

  Belting it around her, she padded out to the bedroom, the wood floor cool against her bare feet. Lachlan had pulled on a pair of sweat pants that barely covered him, hanging so low on his narrow hips that a soft breeze would have left him perfectly naked. Which wasn’t an altogether bad outcome, but she needed fuel first, so those pants had to stay on for at least long enough for her to eat the sandwich. And maybe she’d add back some of the beef she’d taken off. She was going to need protein to keep up with her vampire lover’s simmering sexuality.

  Climbing up onto the big bed, she tucked the robe demurely around herself, then proceeded to devour every crumb of food from the tray. Not only the sandwich, but the freshly-made fries and creamy cheesecake with sweet strawberries. She put down her fork and pushed the empty tray to the foot of the bed, then leaned back on the pillows, still savoring the last delicious bite. If she’d been alone, she’d have crossed her arms over her swollen gut, feeling stuffed to the gills, as they said in the US.

  “Feeling better?” Lachlan asked, looking up from the tablet he’d been working on while she ate. There was a definite note of amusement in his voice, but Julia didn’t care. She’d enjoyed the food far too much, which was something she rarely did anymore.

  “I do feel better, thanks.” She sighed in satisfaction, then scooted over and pushed her head against his bicep. “What’s that?” she asked, seeing what looked like a financial stock chart on his screen.

  “Investment portfolio.”

  “For the clan?”

  “And my own, as well. I keep the two separate.”

  “I thought Munro was your financial genius.”

  “Munro’s good at making sure everything adds up and detecting nascent big picture trends in the market. But he’s a numbers guy. I work more on instinct, which means I’m better at spotting future opportunities, new or revamped companies with an innovative product. Stocks we can get in on at the start and ride their wave upward.”

  Julia took all of this in, surprised even though she shouldn’t have been. Lachlan was far more than a gorgeous body. He was obviously intelligent, since he’d pulled his clan out of disaster and led it back to prosperity. And she doubted his people would have followed him as loyally as they obviously did, even continuing their support as he planned for the overthrow of Erskine, if he hadn’t had that indefinable quality that made leaders out of otherwise ordinary men. Of course, there was nothing ordinary about Lachlan. He was a vampire, for fuck’s sake. But she couldn’t help noting the differences between him and the enemy vamps they’d fought, or even him and his cousins. Maybe it was that magical power he’d talked about, but she thought it had more to do with who he was inside, the man he’d been even before he’d been made Vampire.

  She turned her head and kissed the smooth skin of his arm. She’d intended to make it a quick kiss, but his skin was so thick and velvety, and he smelled so good, she found herself kissing her way up to his shoulder, then scooting higher, until she could nuzzle his neck.

  “Hungry, princess?” he asked, his voice rough and rumbly, as he lifted his arm and pulled her against him.

  “Not anymore,” she murmured against his mouth, but then smiled when she realized what he’d been asking. “Dessert would be nice.”

  He chuckled, deeply masculine and smug, but Julia found she didn’t care. She bit down hard on his lip, drawing a drop of blood which she licked up with a sensuous swipe of her tongue. Lachlan’s grip on her tightened. “Careful what you start.”

  “I know exactly what I’m starting, Lord Lachlan. The question is . . . who’s going to finish it?”

  He reacted so fast, her head spun as she found herself on her back, with Lachlan pressing her against the bed, and the tray of dishes crashing off the edge.

  “The dishes,” she said without thinking.

  “Fuck the dishes. It’s time for dessert, and I know just what I’m after.”

  Julia moaned as his strong fingers made quick work of the tie on her robe, spreading the two sides to bare her naked body, as if presenting her for his pleasure. He ran a hand down the length of her, from neck to thigh and back again, lingering this tim
e to squeeze her breasts, plumping them for his mouth as he bent his head and licked. She gasped, her fingers clutched in his hair, as his tongue rasped over a nipple that was still tender from their earlier lovemaking, swirling around the aching tip until she was arching her back for more. Lachlan hissed and took her breast, sucking hard until half the delicate flesh had been sucked into the wet heat of his mouth.

  “Lachlan,” she cried, not sure how much more of his erotic attention she could survive. Every inch of her body was on fire, consumed with such overwhelming pleasure that she didn’t know what to do with it. Could a woman die of sexual ecstasy? She screamed as he bit into her breast, not from pain, but because it was a pain that felt so damn good. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought such a thing was possible. But a week ago, she hadn’t met Lachlan. It stunned her to realize how much had happened in only a few days.

  Lachlan’s teeth closed on her flesh again, harder this time. Julia’s eyes flashed open to meet his gold-sparked gaze. “You weren’t paying attention,” he growled.

  Her body rippled when his warm tongue licked up the bit of blood from her breast, soothing and exciting her at the same time. But when he nudged his hips between her thighs, she surprised him by flexing her abdominals and shoving him to his back. “Not this time, my lord.”

  “Julia,” he demanded, but she stopped whatever he’d planned to say by closing her mouth over his in a slow, wet kiss. It was the kind of kiss she’d wanted to give him since the first night they’d met, when he’d been grumpy but still delicious. He had succulent lips for a man, soft and full, but still firm, on a mouth that knew how to kiss. Her breasts scraped over his chest, her tender nipples feeling the soft touch like an electric shock. She moved until her entire length was stretched on top of him, his hands automatically going to her butt, though whether it was to hold her in place or assert his dominance, she didn’t know. And she didn’t care, either, because she had plans for this delectable hunk of a vampire.

  His grip on her butt tightened when she began to move downward. But then, as if finally understanding her goal, his fingers loosened and slid up her back as she kissed her way over his chest, pausing long enough to lavish attention on flat masculine nipples that peaked to hardness under the stroke of her tongue. When she licked her way down even farther, to the hard ridges of his abdomen, he growled her name in warning. “Julia.”

 

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