Hooking her index finger under the hanger, she took the robe and continued to walk past him, stopping in the threshold of the bathroom. When she turned around, her face appeared lit up, her dancing, jade eyes drawing him in like a siren. “Do you mind if I shower off real quick? I feel pretty nasty from the deluge.”
“N...Nae,” he bumbled, shaking his head. “I don’t mind at all.” He watched her press the door shut and stood there, dumbfounded, imagining her peeling off her wet leggings and shirt on the other side, exposing the creamy curves of her naked body. His cock tented the white robe, and he clucked his tongue, slugging his way to the sofa in the sitting area of the suite where he free-fell onto the cushions. Scrubbing his hand down his beard, he could hear the water turn on. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and visualized her caressing her wet skin with silky body wash, the lather thick and bubbly. Fully engrossed in his sexy daydream, it took him a moment to figure out there was a faint knocking coming from the door of the suite.
“Coming,” he mumbled, patting down the saluting boner between his legs.
A waiter dressed nicely in a white button-down shirt and black pants stood on the other side of the door next to a rolling cart. A covered tray, two crystal flutes, and a bucket of iced down champagne were expertly arranged with an added votive holding a pink rose. “Good afternoon. Where would you like me to set this up?” the man asked.
“The coffee table is fine.”
The waiter rolled the cart inside the room and efficiently transferred the items onto the furniture. By this time, Mac had retrieved his wallet from the dresser and handed the guy a fifty dollar bill. “Thank ye so much.”
“You’re welcome,” the man replied, eagerly taking the money as he rolled the cart back to the entrance. “If you need anything else, please let us know.”
“Thank ye.” Shutting the door, Mac leaned against the wood and exhaled a long, slow breath, the sound of the shower prevalent in the bathroom. Knowing Nicky was on the other side, he palmed the bathroom door in reverence.
“Mac?”
Startled, hearing his name, Mac yanked his hand away as if the door was on fire. He waited for a beat before he replied. “Aye?”
“Do you have any shampoo? There doesn’t seem to be any in the shower.”
His eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened. Of course, there was shampoo on the sink vanity in a tidy little row next to the lotion and other freebies the hotel service efficiently stocked in each room. Opening the door a tiny crack, he stuck his nose in and could sense the rush of humidity and warmth from the water spray.
“Nicky? It’s right there on the vanity near the sink, darlin’. I haven’t touched it.”
When she didn’t answer, he dared to allow his gaze to focus across the room and roam the shadowy silhouette of her naked body behind the fogged up glass. The air drained out of his lungs in a long, slow exhale, his hand gripping the knob of the door tighter. It would be so easy to slip off his robe and join her in the mist – to run his hands over her delicious curves and kiss every delectable inch of her creamy skin. But he wanted her to make the first move. He wasn’t about to come off as a fool and ruin things before they even began. It didn’t matter he was a fucking rock star. At that moment, he was just a regular guy genuinely whipped over a beautiful woman, eager to take things slow and spoil her with his romantic prowess. With all the willpower he could muster, he started to pull the door shut to give her privacy, his head hanging in acceptance. When the high-pitched sound of her lovely voice cut through the fog again, his face jerked up with apt attention.
“Mac, can you please hand me the shampoo?”
Chapter Eleven
Nicky stood still, waiting for Mac to reply. The warm water felt amazing, cleansing her skin from the gritty rain shower that had infiltrated every crevice of her body. When she heard the door squeak open, she could see the shadow of his white-robed figure in the reflection of the massive mirror fogged slightly from the muggy air. With her forearms pressed against her breasts in a praying position under the showerhead, she clutched her hands under her chin and waited.
“Here ye go,” he uttered, holding a small complimentary bottle of shampoo out for her to take, his head turned politely to the side.
She smiled knowing he was attempting another small act of chivalry. Slowly, she opened the shower door and reached for his hand. Clutching him by the wrist, she didn’t let go, giving him a slight squeeze. “Can you help me?”
With his focus still turned away, a rope of tension shot up his forearm, his muscles taut with surprise. “Help ye?”
The beating of her heart intensified, and she swallowed hard, willing a surge of bravery to help her get the words out in the open. “Can you…help me wash my hair?” The ache between her thighs pulsed as she waited with bated breath. Never in her life had she literally taken the bull by the horns like this. She was a people pleaser, and with Eric, she was often tortured by her own submissiveness and willingness to give him whatever he needed while she waited days, weeks, even months for him to touch her – to satisfy her. When Mac invited her to his hotel room, it was a no-brainer they’d end up sleeping together, and not like the first night at her place where they only fell asleep together. No. She couldn’t hold back the burning desire thrumming through her veins – she wanted this Scottish man, and she was bound and determined to have him, even if it meant she was the one to make the first definitive move.
Slowly, Mac angled his head to finally look at her, disbelief clouding his piercing blue eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, and one eyebrow hitched with interest as she let go of his wrist. With lips slightly parted, his eyes roamed her naked body from head to toe as if assessing her like a prized piece of art. His chest rose and fell as he stood taller and peeled the robe from his body, letting it fall to the floor. Nicky took a step back to make room for him and watched as he gingerly entered the shower, clicking the door shut. Her eyes were wide, taking in his erection, which seemed to salute her. When he held his hand out, she placed the shampoo into his palm.
“Turn around.” The breathless tone of his baritone voice rumbled through her, causing her skin to prickle with a rush of goosebumps. When he gathered her long hair into his hands, she tilted her head back, elongating her neck, and closed her eyes, bringing her forearms back up to cover her breasts. His large hands massaged the citrusy shampoo into her tresses, causing her to moan.
“Does it feel nice?” His voice was low and graveled, and the tip of his dick brushed slightly against the crack of her ass, causing her insides to spasm.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, rolling her neck around. His hands slid down her backside and seemed to trace her every outline as if painting a picture on her skin. Dousing her sudsy head under the spray of water, she panted, aware of the throbbing desire between her legs. Turning around, she blinked back at his hazy image through the sheet of water falling between them. His dark, auburn hair plastered against his head, the color a striking contrast against the pristine white of the shower tiles. Colorful tattoos danced across his pale skin up and down his arms, and the triskelion pendant hung prominently against his broad chest, rising and falling with each intake of air. They were having a staring contest, neither one of them attempting to make the first move, the air crackling with heat and possibility.
“Touch me, Mac,” she dared to utter, the air around her sizzling with certain desire. Closing the gap between them, he pressed his slick skin against hers, holding her firmly against his ruggedness. Staring into her heady gaze, he ran his tongue across his full lips as the subtle touch of his hand slid down her waist, grazing her pelvis and curling between her thighs. Instinctively, she widened her stance and gasped when the tips of his fingers grazed her clit, his face lighting up with a naughty grin. Flicking her sensitive nub, he teased her, making her writhe with need.
“Aye, Nicky,” he growled, his voice thick with longing. “There’s a spot I’m glad is soaked. I’m happy to oblige ye.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, her glossy bosom sliding against his flaming skin. Biting her lower lip to keep a loud moan from escaping into the small confines of the stall, her fingernails dug into his flesh as he inserted two fingers and deftly strummed her like the strings of his guitar, the two of them falling into a syncopated rhythm. It didn’t take long for a crescendo of lust to come fast and hard.
“That’s it, ye’re almost there,” he growled, nipping the shell of her ear.
An explosion of color erupted behind her eyelids as she tensed in his solid arms and squealed with release, her body shuddering in the aftermath of pleasure. Her legs gave way, and she could feel herself falling, ready to hit the hard tiles beneath her. But Mac was right there, catching her in a ripple of strength.
“I’ve got ye,” he reassured.
Opening her eyes, she was nose to nose with Reid Macpherson, his presence commanding yet soft in the gauze of heated vapors. His smile was slight as he held her with one arm, the other rising to tenderly clutch her cheek. “What a beautiful sight ye were flying high into the heavens…”
Nicky averted his stare, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and her inner thighs pulsing with aftershocks. Her chest heaved with anticipated gumption as she slid her hands down his chest and wrapped them around his engorged cock. His jaw clenched, and the blue in his eyes turned a steel gray.
“I need to be inside of ye, lass.” His breath staggered as she tugged on his hardness.
“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation, a shotgun of intense pleasure shooting straight to her basement.
Unwrapping her hands from his penis, he stepped back and turned off the water. “Not here. In the bed.”
Nodding, Nicky pushed open the shower door and started to grab an oversized towel so she could dry off. But he beat her to it, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her naked and dripping wet into the other room. A giggle escaped her lips as she started to fret, the air conditioning causing her nipples to harden in a shiver.
“We’ll get the bed all wet – my hair is soaked.”
Mac quickly tossed the throw pillows off the king-sized mattress and jerked the comforter back. Not saying a word, he motioned for her to climb in. Her expression was demure, and he stood there, gallant with his head held high, a Scottish laird in shining, naked armor. Sliding onto the pure white cotton sheets, she stretched and rubbed her thighs together as he pulled a condom out of his wallet and set it on the nightstand. Easing his body onto the bed to straddle her, he leaned down and started to pepper her exposed skin with butterfly kisses, licking the damp flesh in the dips and valleys of her neck. His large hands gripped her bosom, his fingers twisting and taunting her nipples, causing her insides to clench. Oh, to have this man inside of her…
“I want you, Mac. I want you so bad.” Her words were but a whisper – a plea for him to finally take her.
Leaning back on his haunches, his figure was beastly with his disheveled hair and dark eyes, hovering over her like a lion about to consume. Reaching for him, she wrapped her hand around his dick and squeezed, his neck and shoulders slumping with surrender. With eyes pressed shut, his neck bobbled backward as he groaned. “Oh, god. Yer touch is amazing. My tadger is a happy one.”
Nicky couldn’t help but giggle, assuming “tadger” could only mean one thing. Watching his hips pulse with the rhythm of her hand, she was in awe of his rippling abs, and aware of the ache in her apex growing increasingly stronger. When he grabbed her by the wrists, he leaned forward, lifting her arms above her head, and she swore she could hear the sizzle as residual drops of water from his hair and beard flicked across her flaming skin. With his forehead pressed against hers, his sigh was audible, and the pendant around his neck swayed slightly in the small space between them. She was about to combust.
“Are ye sure about this?” He was giving her one last out, his politeness endearing. But she didn’t want out. Her insides quivered with an unquenchable yearning, and there was no turning back. The flame of desire hovered over her like a match about to fall on a pile of brush, the impending wildfire inevitable.
“Yes, Mac. I want your… your ‘tadger’ inside me.”
With the words barely out of her mouth, Mac ripped open the foil packet, leaned back, and fumbled for a split-second before holding his protected length in his hand. With a final nod, he aimed the scalding tip at the opening of her wet folds, shifting to where both his hands pressed on the mattress next to her head. His masculine gaze was exhilarating as he slowly entered, filling her completely and making her gasp.
“Nice and slow,” he panted, bursts of hot air from his lips skating across her face.
Nodding, Nicky gripped his firm butt cheeks and urged him deeper, the pleasure surmounting. Their bodies were slippery with heat and moisture, the pressure building inside. The backdrop of light against the forest hues of the Hudson River banks glinted through the windows behind the pulled back curtains of the room in a prism highlighting their joined flesh. Mac’s thrusts became powerful—his grunts and moans increasing as he rode her, hard. Her hands tangled in his wet hair as their lips and tongues urged one another on, the steady cadence of their pounding hearts syncing together. Sitting up, he pulsed deeper, holding her breasts in his hands and kneading her tender flesh as if begging her to cross over the pleasure chasm.
“Ye feel incredible. I want ye to let go…,” he persisted in staccato gasps.
“I’m…I’m close,” she faltered, tilting her pelvis upward to where he touched her sweet spot deep inside. “Oh, god. Right there,” she whimpered, pressing her eyes shut, overcome with intense bliss.
“Aye,” he heaved, shifting. He rocked her to her core, the pounding between her legs aching with each deep drive. “Let go, lass. I want to feel ye quiver all around me.”
Nicky’s breath staggered, and she tensed before squealing with undeniable relief. Her insides squeezed around his stiff dick, surging with pleasure thick and robust. Her entire body vibrated with a hot current of sex and want, her needs quickly met when he surrendered to the passion becoming rigid with a release of his own.
“Fuuuuck!” he stuttered, the earthquake of his body registering a million on the Richter scale, his obvious orgasm coming on fast and strong, slamming into her with purpose.
As the tremors subsided, Mac remained inside her, taking in deep gulps of air as he pressed his forearms against the dampened mattress on either side of her head. The weight of his solid frame was heavy and fiery with sweat. When he finally withdrew and collapsed next to her, he flung an arm across his face and bellowed out loud, his laugh full of unhindered joy. Turning to look at her, the cornflower blue of his gaze was back, satiated and relaxed.
“I cannot describe the pleasure I just felt,” he admitted, the low rumble of his voice thrumming through her like a sustained note on a bass guitar. “Thank ye.”
Running her fingers across the auburn hairs of his cheeks, she pressed her lips together to fend off a smile, riding out the residual tingling sensation and ache humming through her being.
“No, Mac. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Chapter Twelve
They sat across from each other in matching white robes at a small table by the picture window, the sky transitioning to muted purples and oranges at dusk. Mac was happy and energized, chatting animatedly and spoiling Nicky with much-needed sustenance, including expensive champagne after their romp in the proverbial hay. Only, the hay was nothing but a tangled mass of damp sheets, twisted and mangled in a flurry of desire.
They’d lounged in bed for most of the afternoon into the evening, skin to skin, talking quietly for hours. She asked him about his multiple tattoos, using her delicate fingers to trace the dark ink on his skin. Between the sheets, he explained the permanent art on his body, including his very first tat of a small dove surrounded by thistles on his left bicep.
“The world can be such an angry place. I felt this need to say something with this
peaceful bird on my body. I know it sounds silly, but I was young—”
“No,” Nicky interrupted. “It’s beautiful. What about this ferocious looking feline and these words, ‘Touch not the catt bot a glove.’ What does it mean?”
Mac shifted, the tone of his voice filled with pride. “It’s the Macpherson clan motto. ‘Bot’ means without. The ‘glove’ of a wildcat is the pad.”
Her brow furrowed, causing an indention between her eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”
“If the cat is ‘ungloved,’ its claws are unsheathed. The motto serves as a warning that one should beware when the wildcat’s claws are ‘without a glove.’ It’s a reference to the historically violent nature of the clan and serves as a metaphorical warning to others to think twice before interfering with Macpherson business.”
“Wow. I never realized there was so much to learn about Scottish history and clans.” She continued to slide her hand down his right bicep tracing the numbers “252” and the roman numeral “X” with her delicate fingers.
“252 is a nod to my band. It’s the studio in London where we recorded our first demo. The Roman numeral is another band symbol commemorating our tenth anniversary together.”
She nodded, tracing the cursive name etched across his heart. “And, who is Annabel? An old girlfriend?” she teased.
Swallowing hard, Mac sighed. “Annabel was my mam—my mother. She died giving birth to me.”
Nicky held her chin in her palm and looked at him with empathy in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mac. That must have been hard for you, growing up without her.”
Shaking his head, he continued. “I never knew her. My uncle took me in when I was a wee lad after my father passed on after a painful bout with pneumonia. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters – just my uncle, and my cousin, James. We were our own little family unit.”
I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4) Page 8