Kiltless

by Melissa Blue

  She shook her head, still not believing what she was hearing. “You're a gangster?”

  The gray in his eyes hardened. “No, but being an outlaw isn't glamorous, Keri. Don't get the wrong idea about me.”

  “I'm not. It's just shocking.”

  She tilted her head, trying to pinpoint if what she felt in her gut was horror or something else. She should have been checking her purse for missing items. She tried to see him as a hardened criminal. Even when his gaze darkened, he just looked like a man who'd seen and done too much in his short life.

  “Did you snatch purses? Hold people at gunpoint and rob them?”

  He rolled his neck. “Keri.”

  “No. You opened the door and now I want to know. You're telling me I should be scared of you. Do you still do those things?”

  He sighed. “I don't want you to be scared. I just...I was the kind of criminal that talked you into handing over your purse. No gun necessary.”

  She clasped her hands together. “So not a violent criminal, but the scum-of-the-earth kind?”

  “Aye. The scummiest.”

  He was being open about his shitty past and she honestly didn't know how to handle that just yet. If there was a good way to handle it, well, she was likely failing that. “And then one day you decided to not be the scum of the earth anymore? Or you ended up in jail?”

  He fisted his hands on the table. “I wanted to quit but didn't know how. So like most criminals, I got sloppy and let myself get caught. Ian kept me from jail.”

  She connected the dots from what he said during their first meeting. “And that's how you owe him?”

  “Aye.”

  She thought about that for a second. “What kind of brother asks you to go back to your life of crime?”

  “For an afternoon.”

  “Still,” she said with vehemence, suddenly angry at Ian.

  He chuckled. “You sound angry on my behalf. Don't be. By no means is this hard-core. Different story if he wanted me to get him some diamonds. We were just supposed to show up and be likable.”

  She blinked. He was good enough to get diamonds? Capable. Yeah. She could believe that. She didn't doubt he probably used to be the scum of the earth, just that the man she'd witnessed didn't come across as a criminal. Or rather that, the world owed him for some slight in his childhood. He was going to make up for whatever perceived loss.

  Still, he didn't let an opportunity pass him by and she couldn't say if that was because of his past or because of who he was at the core. Her mind wanted to latch on to insecurities and it couldn't be helped. The one man who made her feel whole and not broken was a former gangster and retired con man.

  “And me?” she asked before biting her tongue on the question.

  He pushed aside the shells and placed his hands over hers. She'd been wringing them. “I was only supposed to look at you like you were my wife.” He ran his thumb along her right wrist. “I'm not a con anymore. I can never be a truly honest citizen. There are...some reparations that would never be enough. I'm not here with you now as part of the con. Just don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm not a good man.”

  What ideas was she having? One was definitely getting him into bed and having the real kind of sex. Not the unending foreplay they'd had so far.

  A whoop went around the pub and jolted her back into the surroundings. Well, bringing him here was to get them out of the hotel and away from the association. They weren't heading toward a happy-ever-after. He'd teased her, pushed her, comforted her, but that was normal for people who liked each other. Nothing to build a foundation on, much less picket fences.

  “I know what we are.” She pulled her hands from beneath his. “And I also know we need beer. Where's the waitress in this joint?”

  His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  He'd taken the subject change and she let the tension in her shoulders ebb. “Not if you're going to throw yourself on a pyre for past misdeeds after a few rounds. I'm here to watch men in short shorts get muddy.”

  “Keri,” he said, “I could drink you under the table.”

  “Doesn't mean you won't be a sad and depressing drunk first.”

  He laughed and it lightened his gaze. No, she didn't feel a sense of relief or a small bit of triumph. She didn't wonder, not a bit, how many people he must have hurt that shame, not just guilt, ate away at him still.

  If this was real, whatever they were, she'd have asked him why he'd done what he'd done. No one turned to a life of crime without a reason. And why had he wanted to get caught and change? Asking meant too much. It held too much hope that he was a man who wouldn't be out of her life in a few days.

  Not once has he mentioned his mother.

  Another kind of ache started in her heart and she tried not to fill in the blanks. Not once had they brought up her family. From what she gleaned he and Ian were building up their relationship again. He spent a great deal of time with his father.

  But not once did he talk about a mother who worried about him, who chastised him for his past choices. The silence was damn near deafening.

  But she wasn't supposed to wonder about that. They were partners in crime, for now. His past was just that—his. They were partners and somewhat lovers. That was it.

  *****

  The next morning would have felt like dèjá vu if not for the fuzziness. With the two beers from earlier on their boat ride already in her system, Keri had gotten through half a pint at the pub before the day crept up on her and her lids felt like lead weights. The rest of the pint was what made Tristan suggest they could watch another game on another day and head back to the hotel. He'd showered and she'd dozed off. And again she'd woken possessively sprawled over Tristan.

  At least she had her bra and underwear on. He wore another tank top and boxers. His arms wrapped around her waist. She suspected he'd moved her on top of him and she wasn't the one crawling on him while asleep.

  Keri also suspected he wasn't completely full of shit when he told her sex wasn't high on his priorities. Nothing stopped him from waking her up after getting out of the shower. Or, forgoing the shower and getting her naked first. She also figured the invitation from the morning before was open, always.

  And what better way to wake him up? And when would be the next time she could have sex without pressure to perform? Since she didn't hold an optimistic viewpoint—probably never.

  The less they tried to get each other naked, the more it felt like...more. So she shifted out of his embrace, lifted his shirt up to his chest and placed a kiss on his belly button. The barbell gleamed, tempting her. She pressed her lips against it. Metal and flesh. An odd combination, but it could get addictive.

  His abs dipped, rose in little ripples that needed to be admired too, if only for a second. With her tongue. She traced each one. His skin was smooth and hot to the touch. He tasted fresh from the shower even though a night had passed. He smelled like her, though. She'd left her scent behind as they slept.

  Her sex clenched at knowing, somehow, she'd marked him as hers. Not hers for long, but long enough to know his breath quickened when she caressed the skin right above his pubic bone. How could she not reap some sort of satisfaction when she kissed the tip of his cock through his boxers? He didn't groan yet, but his breathing changed from their long deep pulls and grew shallow.

  Keri let her fingertips explore the indentation of muscle on his thighs. Touch meant everything when two people had sex. Probably the only time a fingernail lightly scraping against skin could make your heart race in delicious anticipation. So she curled her fingers around the band of his boxers and lightly, so very lightly, grazed his skin as she pulled them down.

  His cock sat up, stiff and thick, as soon as she pulled the material past it. She held her breath, pushed it back out, because nothing had ever been more beautiful to her.

  Clear liquid crested at the tip. A vein pulsed along one side. Her pussy clenched. So strange to have such a
visceral reaction to his dick, but she could almost feel his first penetration.

  She let go of the elastic, leaving him exposed, and then watched for his reaction. His lids were low but open. She couldn't tell how long he'd been watching, but curiosity filled his gaze. If not for the sudden flush to his tanned skin, she'd assume this did nothing for him. He'd yet to groan and she wondered what would make him. What would break the control that made him appear as nothing more than a bystander in her seduction?

  Keri held his gaze and ran her tongue over the curve of her top lip. He closed his eyes, grunting, and because of it he missed her smile. Leaning forward, she closed her mouth over his dick, sucked him softly, slowly, over the head and then lifted, never losing the gentle suction until he popped out from between her lips.

  This time he groaned. The noise sounded harsh and erotic in the morning quiet. She made him do it again and again. His heavy breathing added its own layer of lushness. Torturing him wasn't her goal. Trying to put something in place of the darkness he'd shown her wasn't part of the plan either. She was just...putting them back on the path they shouldn't have strayed from. He'd brought her pleasure, mindless and sharp-edged. He'd made her wet and then he made her come.

  Maybe a small part of her wanted a reminder there was nothing wrong with her. She wanted to grasp the control he'd told her she had with him. That was it and nothing more. Funny, really. Kneeling should have been a submissive position, but she held the power as she knelt between his thighs.

  She sucked in a deep breath and sank down, taking as much as him as she could into her mouth. He was so hard. Not wet enough from her mouth, but that was okay. That was half the pleasure. He slid easily between her lips on the way back up and then down again. The smooth but ridged texture of his shaft created a sensation way more salacious than a caress and she loved it. Her nipples tingled, grew taut.

  Another deep breath, and this time she took in a little more than half. She relaxed, held him there in her throat. Full. Just as hard. Hot. He gasped. She rose, his cock slippery from her mouth now.

  Her clit swelled and she ached to soothe it and to tease it until her fingers were slippery too. Her stomach tightened, her skin hot, and all she wanted was release, to be so lost that no shame could take hold. She wanted to touch herself in front of him, because she was sucking him, and Keri didn't want to care.

  She opened her eyes, looked up. His jaw clenched and his eyes were half-closed, but his mouth was parted. There was a moment, a flicker of something behind the haze.

  He cursed. “Play with yourself and suck me.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed because the single command should have repelled her. A blush should have followed, but all she could do was moan and press her palm against her mound. Already wet and so swollen. She tugged her panties to the side and took more of him, held him in her mouth longer. His cock contracted. The salty tang of his precome washed over her taste buds.

  She moaned and then his hands were buried in her hair. His hips jerked again, but she felt him tense as though to tame the urge. She knew what he wanted. Could hear it plainly in the way his groans deepened. But she had the power to drive him right over the edge.

  He'd made her come with ease. He didn't wait for her to be open and willing. He took, demanded with his fingers and mouth. Doing the same would only be fair, because for the next few minutes she was that woman who took, demanded and didn't settle for half measure. A woman who didn't care about a man's past. She swirled her finger faster over her clit, losing herself in the feeling of it, but not stopping the way she worked her tongue and mouth up and down his dick.

  Tristan broke first. His hips jutted upward, he tensed and then jerked again, sinking deeper into her throat. She hummed her approval and swallowed all of him. He shuddered, his breath sounding trapped between a half curse and groan.

  Yes. Yes. Heat flashed through her stomach, over her sex, and held her captive until the release washed through every limb. Just when she thought it would end, another quake would make her pussy clench and she'd tremble. She lifted but sucked hard and was rewarded with a low grunt from Tristan.

  Yes. The tip of his cock heated, his dick strained, hardened more, and then his come filled her mouth with the true taste of him. His hands tightened on her hair, but she didn't care. This was what she wanted. He wasn't immune to her. This was real. She could make him come. There was no power in that, only pleasure.

  She unfurled her left hand from the comforter, the other from her mound, and let his dick slide one last time between her lips. Grasping his thighs, she ran her hands up to his waist and stared up at him. He sifted the strands of her hair between his fingertips. His chest rose and fell in a rapid pace, but he looked right back at her, his lids low.

  His face was flushed with color and the beginnings of a smile teased his lips. “Good morning.”

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks at his words. Wouldn't that just put a kink in her plans to be the kind of woman who made a man come before breakfast? She pressed her lips against his thigh. The solid muscle twitched. Play it lighthearted and cool. Play it sexy.

  She rose from between his legs and then slid off the bed. “I'm going to get dressed while you bask in my awesomeness.”

  He crossed his hands behind his head, but his gaze never wavered from her body. “If that's what you want.”

  She liked the way the words settled on her, the whole idea that this could be whatever she wanted. “It is.”

  She kept that sexy, vivacious woman intact until the bathroom door closed. Leaning against the door, she pressed a fist to her stomach. Any thought of basking evaporated. What she wanted was... Hell, she didn't know.

  Keri dated. She’d had her fair share of sex despite her circumstances. It wasn't always pressure and discomfort. Yes, her problem echoed in the back of her mind, but sex felt good. How could someone licking your clit not feel divine?

  But this was new and different. This bordered on emotional and intimate and fucking dirty. A good part of it was sex between two consenting adults. A practice that had a long, varied and complicated history. Bees do it, birds do it. This sexcapade would end in three days. Wasn't sex supposed to be intimate and emotional?

  Keri took in her surroundings. It wasn't the best hotel bathroom she'd ever seen, but it wouldn't make it in the top ten of the worst. The towels looked soft. The soaps and shampoos could fit into her palm but the labels didn't look cheap and glued on by someone with bad eyesight.

  She needed to shower and maybe then she could get her mind back on the right things. They had to pretend to be a married couple. They had to act like her cousin and his brother. That was something she should worry about, not how much of a con man he still was. Or how her heart skittered when he smiled at her. She pushed off the bathroom door to the shower. The curtains were damp—she could guess how Tristan had relieved himself the night before. And probably the night before that.

  She pushed out a breath. This simple favor was turning more complicated than she was ready for.

  CHAPTER NINE

  She wrapped her fingers around his arm and leaned in. Tristan tensed, his eyes narrowing to slits at her delicate, small hand.

  “How can you drift off at a time like this?” Excitement thrummed through her voice.

  He glanced ahead, where the members of the association crowded around the antique moldings. He was stuck in this old house with her and several other members of the association. Them, he didn't mind one way or the other. They ooohed and aahed at every crusty corner of the three-story home. They speculated about what parts were original, repaired or replaced. They prattled on by committee about how much this or that would cost during a renovation. They considered this fun.

  “Easily enough,” he murmured.

  Her enthusiasm didn't dim at his answer. Nothing put a chink in her mood. The same could be said about his. Her scent permeated the air around him. Her touch burned through his skin. When he paid attention he'd detail her soft gasps, a flash of th
igh whenever she moved in the silk dress, her dainty feet in the feminine heels.

  All the while Keri touched him, tried to drag him into the asinine conversations about fireplace mantels or wall moldings and breathed in his space. Nothing about her missed his notice and she seemed to have no clue about her effect on him.

  There were about ten things wrong with that, but the most important fact was that he couldn't be rid of her. His shite of a brother refused to budge and let him out of staying. Tristan had called the moment Keri escaped to the bathroom. Not right after, mind you. He needed a...moment.

  She'd sucked him without using her hands. His imagination couldn't have done her tongue and mouth justice. He felt out of control and daft and off-kilter and they hadn't even fucked yet. He had no idea how she'd feel wrapped around his cock and he was confessing bits of his past. Some of the ugliest things, but not all. All of it would turn her curiosity into full-on horror.

  He wanted to tell her all of it, just to see if she'd take it with the same aplomb. No woman had, and none ever would. So it made perfect sense to leave the hotel room, forget the daft urges to confess and never see her again.

  Ian refused to give. The dobber.

  Keri bumped her shoulder with his, a playful smile spreading over her plump lips. “You're grumpy.”

  He grunted and she bumped him again, this time with her hip. “Why?”

  Tristan opened his mouth to tell her in painstaking detail what would make him very happy when the head of the association called his name. The older man had graying hair and a kind smile. He'd retired as some hedge-fund millionaire and now spent his time looking at old homes. A man who wouldn't question their con unless Tristan made a misstep.

  He plastered a smile on his face and stepped closer to the group. “Montgomery?”

  “I know relics are more of your expertise, but what do you think of this place?” the older man asked.

  The group all turned to him, probably expecting him to provide some great insight or to fudge it like most of them had done. He glanced at Keri. Her eyes had widened, and if anyone else noticed, that might stir up questions they couldn’t answer. Annoyed with himself and her vulnerability, he stepped forward and took a good look right above and below the baseboards.