She just didn't know what to do to stop it.
"How about we start with the scars first and get them out of the way?"
Lake nudged her to sit on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her. His hand was on the side of her neck that had a criss-cross of tiny white scars. Kirsty clenched her hands in front of her to stop from yanking his hand away from her.
"Tell me about these ones," he said.
Kirsty couldn't think.
"Tell me," he said again.
She swallowed, but her mouth was too dry.
"Glass," she said at last. "There was shattered glass. I was cut. A lot."
He leaned towards her marked skin and kissed her. Then he ran the tip of his tongue over it until he reached her ear.
"You taste like sherbet," he whispered, making her shudder.
Then he was gone again, but not his touch. His touch never left her. He ran his hand over her shoulder to her back.
"This feels like a big one. What's that?"
He traced the scar that started beneath her shoulder blade and curved around her side.
"The door, a piece of the door."
"You must have lost a lot of blood."
"I was unconscious, but they told me I did."
"I'm going to show you a trick," he said.
Kirsty had to shake her head to follow the conversation.
"This was the sum of my underwear knowledge before I accidentally bought a lingerie shop."
There was a tiny click in the middle of her back and her bra slid down her arms.
"I'm impressed," she said softly.
"Had the army record. Fastest underwear removal."
He threw her bra behind him into the darkness as his hands covered her breasts. Kirsty closed her eyes and swayed.
"Bet that was a useful conflict skill," she said.
"I have lots of useful skills."
His head dipped to her breasts. Kirsty found it difficult to stay upright under his touch. He ran his tongue over her nipple before biting it softly. She groaned and swayed backwards. One of his hands shot around her to keep her upright.
"I want you here," he said against her skin.
She threaded her hands through his hair and pulled his mouth towards her chest. Yes. She wanted to be here. Lake suckled on her as his hand pushed her knees apart. He shuffled between them until they were skin to skin. He kissed the outside curve of her breast and another scar. Kirsty barely noticed. She was more focused on the feel of him between her legs, and the fact that there was only a thin layer of satin separating them. His large hand slid over her thigh and hip to her waist. He thumbed the thickest scars over her kidney. There were three large ones, criss-crossing each other and surrounded by lots of little ones.
"I've got to tell you, babe..." he said as he kissed her neck.
Kirsty's head fell back to give him access.
"Your scars are impressive, but I've come across much better."
She held on to his shoulders as she lost the ability to think.
"Plus, if this is a scar competition, I still win. You only got yours from an accident. I got mine from conflict."
He let her fall backwards onto the bed. His hands moved over all of her, from thigh to breast, making every single part of her tingle and sing.
"Who are you trying to kid, Benson?" Her voice was low and raspy. It took a great deal of effort to think, let alone talk. Especially when his fingers hooked under her pants and she felt them slide down her legs. "You got your scars by screwing up on training exercises. You caused yours. That means I win."
Lake laughed as he kissed her inner thigh.
"Well," he said, his breath hot against her skin. "If you win. What's your prize?"
Brazenly, Kirsty lifted her hips from the bed towards his lips.
Lake growled as he lowered his head. And Kirsty stopped thinking about her scars for the first time in years.
Kirsty Campbell was making him crazy. She was a mass of contradictions. Soft. Strong. Insecure. Brave. She tasted like old-fashioned sweeties and felt like satin. Each touch on her skin sent ripples of vibrations through her that he could feel along the length of her body. She wiggled up onto the bed until her head was on the pillow. Lake lowered himself on top of her.
"I love your muscles," she said on a sigh.
Her hands moved over him so fast it made him smile. She obviously didn't know where to touch first.
"Even if they are steroid induced," she said.
"Hey." He kissed her hard and felt her leg curl up around his back.
"I'm still waiting," she said when he moved his lips to her neck.
"For what, exactly?"
He made tiny circles with his tongue over the scars on her neck and felt inordinately pleased when all she did was groan with pleasure. Looked like that scar problem was knocked on the head. To be sure, he caressed his way down her side, covering all of her scars. She writhed against him. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Then her lush lips kissed his chest before biting him hard.
"Ow," he said.
"You aren't listening to me," she told him.
"I'm kind of busy here."
"Yeah, but I'm still waiting."
"Okay, Kirsty, what are you waiting for?"
"The other double oh," she said.
He could see her grinning in the dark. She wrapped her other leg around his waist.
"You are so demanding," he told her. "I'm trying to stretch this out for you."
"Well, do it faster," she said.
He slid his hand between her legs.
"This fast enough for you?" he said.
"No." She pushed up towards him as her hand scrambled across the bed beside her.
"Here." She thrust a packet in his face. "Speed things up, then we'll have a little talk about technique."
Lake threw back his head and laughed as he took the condom.
Then he wrapped her up tight in his arms and kissed her until she was gasping for breath.
"We'll do fast another day," he told her. He ripped the packet open. "And for the record, there is nothing wrong with my technique."
"You can't see me," she said. "But I'm rolling my eyes here."
With a smile, Lake kissed her again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bright sunlight flooded Kirsty's bedroom and tugged her out of a deep sleep. She stretched languorously across her bed and stopped dead at a wall of muscle. Lake was still there and it was morning. Daylight. There was nowhere to hide. He was lying on his back, stark naked, with one arm hanging off the bed. Even in his sleep he made her mouth water. She was of half a mind to wake him and tell him his technique was rusty again—that seemed to get good results—but it was too bright in the room. He would see her. All of her. Instead she crept out of bed and slipped into her green satin dressing gown. She pulled it tight around her, aware that it was stupid to be this self-conscious with a man who knew her body intimately. By touch if not by sight.
"Lake," she said as she prodded his side. "Lake."
Unable to stop herself, the prod turned into a caress over the ridges in his stomach. She sighed. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back into bed. Kirsty squealed as Lake wrapped an arm around her and held her tight.
"I'm not ready to get out of bed," he told her.
His voice was gruff with sleep. It was cute.
"I told you last night that you had to leave before sunrise," she complained.
"And I ignored you."
"But..." she started to explain.
Instead she found herself kissing the impossible man. Kissing and wanting. Her leg draped over his hip even though her brain was telling her that it was daylight and things were different now. He grunted his approval and slid a hand under the dressing gown to caress her backside. He pressed towards her and she could feel all of him—morning ready and wanting her.
"You need to go," she said when she came up for air. But her heart wasn't in it.
"Don't want to,"
he said as his lips found her neck.
He was making her dizzy again.
"Seriously. It's daylight. We have things to do."
"I'm doing them," he mumbled against her skin.
He was the most frustrating man she'd ever met. Kirsty smiled in spite of herself. His hand covered her breast and she grinned with pleasure. Oh, she wanted him badly. But she couldn't. She wasn't ready to be seen. With difficulty, she disentangled herself, scrambled over the bed and stood beside it. On the far side from Lake.
"If you get up fast, I'll make you breakfast."
He looked down at himself, then cocked an eyebrow at her.
"I'm already up."
Kirsty rolled her eyes.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you want me."
She turned away. Lake let out an almighty growl.
"I was showing you how much I want you, woman," he shouted after her.
Grinning, Kirsty went to put on the coffee pot.
"I'll have to sneak you out the back door," she told him when he came into the kitchen.
He'd only managed to pull on his jeans, and he hadn't even bothered to button them. A vision of herself trailing her tongue down his chest to that button popped into her mind. Her gaze followed the path she would take and she sighed. When she looked up he was smiling at her, his eyes dark.
"Want to cancel the day and go back to bed? You can blindfold me if you don't want me to see anything." He held out his hands in front of him, crossed at the wrists. "You can tie them if you don't want me to touch."
Oh, oh, oh, the things those words did to her. She shut her eyes to block out the pictures, but they were still in her head.
"You're leaving," she said, disgusted to find her voice croaked. "By the back door."
He looked like he knew better, but he conceded. For now.
"I'm starving," he said as he plopped into one of the stools at the breakfast counter. "What's for breakfast?"
"Sausage, eggs, black pudding, toast and beans."
"Ah, the Scottish heart attack."
"Do you want this food or not?" She waved a silicon fish slice at him.
"Yes. I want the food. Then I want to go back to bed."
Kirsty sighed with exasperation, but grinned when she turned back to the frying pan. He helped himself to some of the juice she'd placed on the counter. He was entirely out of place in her world. Too big. Too manly. Too muscled. Everything about him screamed that he expected the world to adapt to him and not the other way around.
"So, where do we stand on the therapy list?" he said.
"It's done." The last thing she wanted was to discuss her little cupboard episode.
"I'd better look and see."
"Only if you want to be wearing the frying pan."
He held his hand up in surrender.
"You're full of attitude this morning, Kirsty Campbell. I'd ask what's gotten into you, but I already know."
Kirsty ignored him.
When she put his plate on the counter in front of him, Lake's arm snaked out to wind around her waist.
"I like this." He rubbed the satin cloth of her gown between his finger and thumb.
Kirsty watched him in fascination. He touched the hollow of her throat and ran his fingers lightly down the opening of her dressing gown to between her breasts.
"I like this a lot."
Kirsty pulled free before she gave into her urges and threw herself at the man. She'd dealt with enough for one night. She wasn't going to overload herself by being naked in daylight. That could wait for another day. She stumbled over nothing on the floor at the surprise that she was even considering another day. She chewed her lip.
"What's bothering you now?" he asked as he wolfed down his food.
She looked at him for a moment, debating the wisdom of telling him.
"Do you want to see me again?"
He stopped eating.
"I want to see all of you, all of the time," he told her.
"I mean, do you want to sleep with me again?"
"Kirsty, I wanted to sleep with you about twenty minutes ago but you wouldn't let me."
There was that.
"I'm trying to decide if I want to see you again," she said.
Lake choked on a piece of sausage. When he'd recovered, he smiled a little cockily.
"Of course you do," he said.
Kirsty folded her arms over her dressing gown and leaned against the counter.
"Maybe I don't," she said.
"Oh, but you do."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're really cheesing me off now," she said.
He shrugged and shook his head like she was the mystery.
"I'm going for a shower," Kirsty declared.
As she stomped past him, he grabbed her and kissed her hard. Kissed her until her nails were digging into his shoulders and she was rubbing against him like a cat.
"Point made," she said when he stopped.
Feeling a little dazed, she headed to the bathroom.
"Can I eat your breakfast?" he called after her.
She didn't bother answering him. He was going to do it anyway—to save it from getting cold.
"I don't see why I have to leave," Lake told her as she herded him down the stairs and into the shop.
"For one thing, you don't live here, you live over there. For another, Magenta will be here soon and I don't want her to find you here."
He was not persuaded.
"Put a notice on the window, write 'gone fishing' or something and we'll go back to bed." He turned towards her at the bottom of the stairs, making her stop short against him. "You know you want to," he teased.
His hand cupped her breast as he kissed her neck. She swayed. Heck yes, she wanted to. But she wasn't going to.
"See," she said as she pushed him through the door and into the shop. "This is self-control. Pay attention. You might develop some one day."
He grumbled all the way through the shop to the office and the back door. As he entered her office, he stilled, every muscle in his body tense.
"What is it?" Kirsty said.
He pushed the door open cautiously.
"Someone has been here," he said.
"What?" Kirsty pushed past him and into the room.
The back door was slightly ajar. Lake scanned the room. Everything about him signalled "high alert".
"Look around," he told her. "What's missing?"
He strode to the door and examined the lock.
"The lingerie for the show is gone."
She pointed at the table. Kirsty wanted to wail.
"Check the computer," Lake said evenly. "Make sure no one got into your bank account. Check the till. Make sure the money is still in it."
Kirsty did as she was told while Lake searched the yard outside the back door.
"Everything is still here," she said once she'd been through it all. "It's only the lingerie that's missing."
"There are wheel tracks outside the back door. Looks like someone put the stuff in a shopping trolley."
Kirsty folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.
"I didn't do this," he told her. "I was busy. I was with you. Remember?"
"You could have organised it."
"Think about it for a minute. If I was behind this, would I have made such a piss-poor job of it?"
"It seems to me that whoever did this was quite successful." She waved at the empty table. "My lingerie is gone. How can I do the show without it?"
"Get some more delivered."
"Three weeks before Christmas?" she screeched. "I'll be lucky to get it by February."
He shrugged.
"You can borrow some of mine."
"The second-rate stuff you don't want to use? No thank you."
"What do you want me to do?" he said, sounding irritated. "I keep telling you—I didn't do this."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I bet you know who did," she said.
They looked at each oth
er.
"Betty," Lake said.
Kirsty nodded.
"I'm going to kill her this time," he said.
"I'll help."
Kirsty went to fetch her coat.
"I'm not telling you anything," Betty said. "You can cart me off to jail, but these lips are sealed."
Kirsty looked at Officer Donaldson hopefully. He sighed.
"I can't put her in jail without any proof," he said.
"Ha!" said Betty.
"I should have phoned the vicar. He would have been more use," Kirsty grumbled.
"Feel free," said the town's entire police force.
"What exactly do you think that old fart will do?" Betty said defiantly. "If he isn't fit for a round of slap and tickle, he isn't going to help you here."
Kirsty and Officer Donaldson made retching noises while Lake shook his head slightly.
"My ears are going to shrivel and fall off just from hearing that," Kirsty said.
"Look," Officer Donaldson said. "Unless you can get me some proof that Betty stole your underwear, there isn't a lot I can do here."
"Can't you search the place?" Kirsty said.
"You search the place. I've got better things to do. Rip the house apart. It will only improve the decor." Officer Donaldson sounded beyond fed up and Kirsty almost felt sorry for him.
"That's rude," Betty said from her state-of-the-art La-Z-Boy chair. "If anyone messes up my house, I'll sue."
The police officer looked towards heaven.
"You've got the wrong idea about Scottish law," he told her. "You can't sue about anything that takes your fancy. You've been watching too many American TV shows." He turned to Kirsty and Lake. "Do what you have to," he said. "But if you injure her, try to hide the evidence. That would be a boatload of paperwork that I don't need. I'm already up to my ears with the Christmas Market."
Lake nodded once at the officer.
"I'm out of here," Donaldson said. "Some of the kids have been messing around at the Baxter farm. If I find out my sisters are involved, you'll be missing two models for your show." He ran his hand through his thick, dark hair before putting his hat back on. "I'm aging before my time," he told them by way of goodbye.
When he was gone Kirsty turned to Betty.
"There are no witnesses now." She put her hands on her hips. "I'm not afraid to hurt you to get the information I need."
Lingerie Wars (The Invertary books) Page 21