“Can I walk you home?” Callum asked.
Amelia shook her head. “You’re sweet,” she replied. “But I can find my way back on my own. I like having the time to think.”
“Of course,” Callum said. He grinned at her and reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers gently. She was startled by the touch, but didn’t pull away. “I hope I see you again before I head home,” he said quietly, far too low for Adam to overhear them.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again,” Amelia said, and she returned the light pressure of his fingers for just a second before she stood up. Her hand tingled where he’d touched her, and for a moment she reconsidered his offer to walk her home. Before she could change her mind, she flashed him a quick smile, and then gathered up her things, heading out into the night air.
The wind helped clear her mind, and she blinked her watering eyes against the wind as she headed home, trying to ignore thoughts of Callum.
Chapter 12
She felt confused every time she thought about Callum and Adam. Part of her wanted to see Callum again. His bright, eager, flirting made her feel light-hearted and carefree. There was nothing intense about Callum.
But part of her missed Adam terribly. Whenever she thought about the night they’d spent together, and the one that they nearly had, she felt a tingling rush of lust from the tips of her fingers to her toes, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong hands on her body again. But after Christmas night, she felt like that was very unlikely. So why shouldn’t she enjoy flirting with Callum?
She also wondered how on earth had she managed to stumble across two eligible, devastatingly handsome men in the middle of the back and beyond.
She tossed her laptop and work papers in her bag and walked to the pub. The clouds were heavy and threatening so no big change there. It was certainly darker than it should be for the afternoon hour. She wondered if she should have left after all—it looked as if a storm might be brewing—but she was already on her way, and she pushed the worry aside. Besides, she was starting to get a bad case of cabin fever.
Both men were in the pub. Adam was polishing glasses behind the bar, and Callum was reading a book at the same table he was sitting at those few nights ago. The scene was now comfortably familiar, with the usual customers scattered around doing their usual things. Amelia settled at a table, and pulled out her work. She’d barely started going over her notes when she saw Callum approach. She smiled up at him.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked.
Amelia hesitated. She could tell him yes, and she knew he’d go back to his table and she could avoid any further awkwardness with regard to Adam. Or she could say no, which she was rapidly realizing was the answer she wanted to give, and enjoy a nice evening of pleasant company with a frisson of something a little more.
“You’re not interrupting,” she said firmly, pushing her notebook aside. “It’d be nice to have some company.”
Callum smiled and set his book on the table, sliding into a seat. “It’s great to see you again,” he said. “I was hoping it might happen.”
“How much longer are you here for?” Amelia asked.
“A few days,” Callum said, “I’m flying out Sunday. Time to get back to the regular routine and all of that. My dad’s health hasn't been so good, so I wanted to spend some extra time here this holiday. But life calls. You know.”
“I do,” Amelia agreed. She thought briefly of the life she had waiting for her back in Chicago. Once that had involved a man who was nearly her fiancé, a stunning apartment, and the promise of a good job. Now she was single, without a place of her own, and she hadn’t heard anything from the jobs she’d applied to. Maybe she should think about starting over somewhere else. If not New York City with David, then somewhere else entirely different. She’d always quite fancied the west coast.
“You still in there?” Callum waved his hand, laughing.
“Sorry, I zoned out for a second. Too much on my mind I guess.”
“Sounds like you need some time to unwind,” he said, grinning at her. “I know a guy who’s really fun to hang out with.”
“Yeah?” Amelia played along. “Maybe you should introduce us.”
“Oh, I think you’ve already met.” Callum winked.
Amelia found herself laughing a lot as they talked. He was lighthearted and funny, and, for the moment, thoughts of Adam faded into the background. She’d let Callum get their beers as she did not want not to deal with the farmer's disapproval. And why should she have to? He was only a rebound fuck after all.
Callum took a swig of his second beer, and reached for his back pocket. “I’m going out to have a smoke,” he said. “I know it’s a bit chilly out, but want to join me?”
Amelia shrugged. “Sure.” She grabbed her parka, pulling it on as they ducked out of the front door. They stood under the overhang, out of the wind, she, laughing at one of his bad jokes.
“Want a smoke?” he asked, holding out the crumpled pack.
Amelia shook her head. “Never have,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Good,” Callum said. “Don’t start. Nasty things.”
“Why’d you start?” she asked curiously.
“Stupid teenage thing,” he admitted. “Dumb but I thought it looked cool. It's as hard as hell to quit, though.”
She had to admit, he did look cool, leaning against the doorframe of the pub, hand cupped around his mouth to shield the flame from the wind as he lit the cigarette. His red hair blew over his angular face. He may have looked cool but he also looked entirely out of place. That was the biggest difference between him and Adam. The countryside and the farmer belonged together. His craggy looks and work-hardened muscles couldn't have been forged anywhere else. Callum was the opposite, lanky and urban, looking as if he’d somehow missed his ride out and gotten left behind here by mistake. He was closer to what she was used to, while being just about unfamiliar enough to be exciting.
She realized that they were standing very close together to avoid the worst of the wind. Amelia felt a sudden rush of excitement, an everything in overdrive type of feeling that comes when you’re very close to someone attractive who might just risk trying to kiss you. Callum took one last long drag of the cigarette and dropped it on the ground, grinding it under his heel. He turned as if to go back inside, but his eyes caught hers, and she sucked in a breath. Her body leaned toward his as of its own volition. She moved forward at the same time he did, and she found herself up against the doorframe, his leg pressed intimately against her thigh, and his hand on her waist. She could smell his cologne, spicy and warm, and she felt a flush of heat spread through her body. She forgot how cold it was, how the wind was sliding under the overhang to bite at her cheeks. The world narrowed to the tall man leaning over her, his eyes searching hers as if asking for permission to kick things up to the next level.
She reached up, He leaned forward, his fingers sliding under her chin, and he captured her lips in a kiss, soft and warm against her mouth, and Amelia was suddenly in a different place entirely.
She leaned into him, her hand sliding around his waist, pressing against his back, her lips parting, and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. What had begun as a tentative kiss quickly morphed into something much more, and she felt her body dissolving against his. He braced one hand against the doorframe, and placed the other on her hip. Callum then pulled her against him, and she felt his length dig into her leg. He groaned softly, pressing his forehead against hers, and Amelia found herself gasping, struggling to think through the fog of lust that was enveloping her. She pushed gently at his chest and he pulled away, looking down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his brow creasing. “I’m sorry if…”
“No, no,” Amelia said. “I wanted you to. I just…I think I need to go.” She realized this was the second time she’d abruptly abandoned him, but she knew if she stayed much longer she’d be inviting him back to the cottage, and somewhere in her foggy brain, she knew th
at would be a bad decision.
“That’s okay,” Callum said gently, taking a step back. “I understand.” He ran his fingers shakily through his hair, and she could see the muscles standing out in his jaw, the hard line of him visible through his jeans. He clearly wanted her, but he wasn’t going to force the issue.
Amelia pushed herself away from the doorframe, and walked back into the pub to gather her things. As she turned to leave, Adam’s eye caught hers, and her fingers went unconsciously to her lips. They were tender, and she realized she must look as if she’d been thoroughly ravished. She flushed at the thought that Adam would know what they’d been doing, even though she was perfectly within her rights to do it.
As much as it pained her, she still had feelings for Adam. Amelia had forgotten for a moment, when Callum had been kissing her, but she’d reached to thread her fingers through Adam’s long hair instead of Callum’s short crop, when she’d expected hard, corded muscle under her hands instead of Callum’s lean, athletic arm. A part of her had wanted it to be Adam who was pressing her up against the pub door. And it wasn’t fair to hop into bed with Callum when she was still wanted Adam.
She took an armload of firewood into the cottage with her, flicking on the temperamental kitchen light as she pushed the door open. Once the firewood was by the fire, she switched the radio on. It crackled to life, and a dour-sounding man with a thick accent blared into the room. A bad snowstorm was on the way.
Amelia headed back out to bring in another load of firewood. The prospect of being snowed in worried her. She had a good stock of food, and some candles, and a fair amount of wood, but she had no idea what a Scottish snowstorm was like. Of course, she was used to snow, living in Chicago and Wisconsin but those places had the infrastructure to deal with it. No doubt things were very different out here in the middle of nowhere.
She carried in three more armloads of wood, and the room was beginning to smell like a logging operation, but she didn’t relish the idea of digging out the woodpile in the middle of the storm.
She’d just changed into a pair of thick, fleece-lined thermal yoga pants and a heather gray cashmere hoodie, a Christmas gift from David a few years ago that she’d loved too much to throw out. She was just settling into the couch when there was a loud knock at the door.
Chapter 13
She opened the door, squinting against the wind, and her heart leapt into her throat. It was Adam, bundled up in a heavy parka and fleece hat. Her heart pounded in her chest. He was the last person she’d expected to see at her door. “Come in, quickly,” she said, pulling the door open the rest of the way, and shutting it quickly behind him to keep the frigid air out.
“What are you doing here?”
There was a long moment of silence. “I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said, sounding almost apologetically. “The storm coming in, it’s likely a big one, you know.”
“I heard about it on the radio,” Amelia said, her tone as cold as the weather. “I did hear that.”
“Well, you are here all by yourself, I wanted to make sure that you were okay, that you had enough wood, and food, and all of that.”
“As you can see, I’m alive and all set.” Amelia knew her tone was harsh, but she was having a hard time concealing her annoyance. Did he really think he could give her the cold shoulder for days and then just pop up on her doorstep, feigning concern?
“Why are you really here?” she asked finally. “I know it’s not just to check the height of my woodpile. You could have asked me at the pub if you were really worried. You must have known this storm was coming.”
Adam pressed his lips together and his eyes searched her face. His own expression, more readable than it usually was, was one of sadness. “I didn’t want to talk to you at the pub,” he said finally.
“Why?” Amelia demanded. “Because of Callum?”
She saw Adam’s jaw tighten. He stepped closer to her. “Yes, because of Callum,” he all but spat the name out. “You should stay away from him.”
“Why is that? Do you know him well?” Amelia asked, her voice tight. She lifted her chin.
“I grew up with him,” Adam said tightly, “so in fact, yes, I do know him very well. He’ll leave you hanging, mark my words.”
“And you wouldn’t?” Amelia challenged. “In fact, I think you already did,” she snapped, her voice tightening, and she willed herself not to let the tears come. “You turned me down on Christmas, and said we couldn’t do this anymore. So tell me Adam, if you don’t want me, why are you here?”
“Not want you?” He stared at her for a second, and then before she could speak, or breathe, or think, he had stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She was up against the wall, his body angled over hers and his hands on either side of her head.
“Oh god, Amelia, if you could only know how much I want you.” He touched her cheek gently, his fingers trailing down her jaw, and she could feel that they were shaking slightly. “I was nearly mad with jealousy tonight,” he whispered, his mouth close to hers. “I saw you come in from being outside with Callum, flushed like you were after that first night I was here.” He closed the last inch between them, and Amelia felt his powerful frame against her body, from chest to thigh, and he was rock hard, throbbing against her leg. He was staring down at her, one large hand still cupping her chin, fingers brushing the side of her neck, so close, close enough to nearly kiss her, but not quite.
“I saw that, and I wanted to come over that bar and throw him out, for daring to touch you. But I knew I had no right, nothing I could say, because I had let you go, and why shouldn’t you let him touch you, kiss you?”
Amelia could see the muscles in his jaw working, the aching need as he looked down at her. “I was so stupid,” he murmured. “So goddamn stupid on Christmas night.” He ran one hand through his long hair, bracing himself with the other.
“I want you, Amelia,” he whispered. “I want you so much it hurts.” She could see the effort it took for him to admit it, and she couldn’t think of what to say in return. Her heart was lodged in her throat, blocking her speech, her body ached for him to touch her more, everywhere. “I can’t think of where this is going,” he said. “You’re leaving in a few weeks, and I can’t think of any reason you’d want to stay, or even how you could. You have a life to go back to. But I was a fool to think that you weren’t worth suffering for.” He touched her cheek gently again. “What’s a little heartbreak compared to a moment with you?”
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and liquid, and whatever it was she wanted to say but couldn’t get out, he seemed to intuit.
“Amelia,” he murmured softly, and her head tipped back, her lips parting just a bit. That was all the encouragement he seemed to need. He groaned, and then a second later she found herself pressed against the wall again, his body hard against hers. He dipped his head to kiss her, his tongue slipping into her mouth.
He tasted of beer, soft and grainy, and she breathed in the smoky scent of him. Her hands went to his long hair as she pressed her mouth harder against his, whimpering softly as she arched her back, wanting to feel him, hard and thick, pressed against her. She’d been aching for him all this time, and now he was here.
“God, Amelia,” he groaned, and his hands were at her waist, pulling her against him. His mouth went to her neck, her collarbone, sucking and biting at her skin. Her hands scrambled for the buttons on his shirt, pulling them apart, tossing it to the floor. It was cold in the kitchen, but neither of them noticed. He pulled her hoodie over her head, tossing it aside, his hands going to her breasts, cupping them in his hands. Thumbs rubbing over nipples that hardened immediately in response. She moaned, her hands going to his belt, undoing it, then the button and then the zipper. Him kneeling on the floor in front of her, removing her jeans, his fingers hooking in the soft cotton of her panties and yanking them down her thighs.
She was shivering, but with anticipation, and not cold. His broad palms ran down the outsi
de of her thighs and then up the inside, pushing her knees gently apart, his fingers curving around her flesh as he slowly brought them up to the apex of her legs. He slid one finger along the crease between, not enough to dip inside, just enough to tease. She moaned again, a word that sounded like “please” forming on her lips, and his face moved closer, his mouth a breath away from her, and she arched her hips forward, aching to feel it there.
He parted her slowly with his fingers, his breath warm against her, and she heard the low noise he made when he touched her and felt how wet she was. She felt his lips then, the soft rasp of his stubble, and his tongue licked slowly over her, delving between her lips, stopping to suck gently at her clit, and she gasped, her head falling back against the wall as he sucked and licked, his pace never speeding up, his fingers teasing at the edges of her, promising her more, always more. Her hips rocked against his face, but he still didn’t speed up, not until she was panting and begging. His name falling from her lips in a symphony of “please, Adam,” and “oh god, Adam, please, please,” and then he slid two fingers into her, slowly, and began to flick his tongue against her clit, pausing every now and then to suck the hard nub of flesh into his mouth, rolling it between his lips, and she felt the pleasure beginning to wash over her a moment before she utterly dissolved, her back arching and her fingers clawing for something as she yelled his name, her thighs on either side of his face as he licked her to orgasm, not stopping until her knees went weak and she nearly stumbled.
She was in his arms, his broad hands on the sides of her waist, lifting her up, and her legs circled him instinctively. He pressed her against the wall, one arm around her waist, and a second later she felt him, hard and thick, the tip pressing between her legs. With a gasp and a thrust of his hips, he was plunged into her, parting her with an exquisite burst of sensation, and she moaned aloud, every inch of her body sensitized. He held her against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, nipples rubbing tantalizingly against the short curls of hair, and he was thrusting up into her madly, his face in her neck, forehead pressed against the wall as he fucked her, hard this time. He was panting, the room suddenly hot, full of the scent of their skin and sweat, and he set her down suddenly, his hand on her shoulder turning her, and she put her hands against the wall, arching her back as he grabbed her hips, hard, and then his cock was buried in her again, slick and hot from the wetness that was coating the inside of her thighs, and all she could do was hang on as he pounded into her, all of the frustration and anger and jealousy being expelled as his fingers dug into her ass, his mouth on her shoulder as she felt his rhythm start to stutter, his hips jerking as he gasped her name. “Fuck, Amelia,” he moaned. “I’m going to…I can’t…” he gasped, and then she felt him come, his cock swelling inside of her, hard as stone as he wrapped an arm around her stomach, holding her hard against him as his cock jerked and throbbed inside of her, his breath hot against her neck as he moaned.
Three if by SeaMMF Bisexual Romance Page 8