Wild Heat (Northern Fire)

by Lucy Monroe

  Kitty’s wince was enough of an agreement, though she didn’t say anything.

  “I should have checked on you.” He’d been so focused on her betrayal, it never occurred to him that Kitty needed looking after.

  He’d been wrong. Damn it.

  He’d promised her they would always be friends, that he would always look after her, even though she’d staunchly denied the need for him to do so. But she’d gotten engaged to another man, and that had hurt more than he’d known he could hurt.

  And her little speech about needing to focus on her relationship with her fiancé and minimize the time she spent with Tack had given him all the reason he needed to cut ties completely. It didn’t help that he’d been positive that’s what she’d wanted, but he hadn’t been able to come right out and say.

  Until this very moment, he’d felt entirely justified in giving her all the space she’d claimed to need and then some. When she didn’t return his e-mails, he stopped sending them. When she changed her phone number without telling him, he stopped calling.

  He hadn’t given up without any effort, but it sure hadn’t been the fight a MacKinnon would have made to keep someone important in his life. Even if it was just a friend.

  Because he’d needed the space between them to get over his obsession with her. Because he’d been weak and that wasn’t something he’d ever considered himself.

  “No,” Kitty said fiercely. “Why would you? I wasn’t your responsibility. I knew what I was doing when I pushed you out of my life.”

  “You didn’t.” Of that he was now certain.

  She’d had no idea the monster Nevin Barston was, or how much she would need someone in her corner after she married him.

  But she shook her head in denial of his words. “I knew throwing our friendship away came with a cost and I did it anyway. I was the one to cut off contact with your family and this town. And you. Most especially you, when you were the one I owed the most loyalty.”

  Hell, she blamed herself even more than he did, or had done…before today, for the choice she’d made eight years ago.

  “If we’d known what was going on, we’d have come for you, Kitty, me and Da.”

  For the first time he could remember, the expression in her blue eyes accused him of flat out lying. And he could see that from her viewpoint, her doubt was warranted. Because they’d never checked on her. Not once.

  Not one person in the town who had claimed to love Kitty Grant as one of their own had tried to find out why she never came home for a visit. They’d all assumed she’d hurt her gran and great-aunts out of pure selfishness, or at the least self-centered oblivion.

  There wasn’t an expletive foul enough for the feeling Tack had right then.

  Cailkirn took care of its own, except when they didn’t apparently.

  “Stop it,” Kitty ordered, her voice laced with anger for the first time since this discussion had started.

  “What?”

  “Thinking you or anyone else let me down. I let this town down and everyone who had cared for me. I let myself down. I’m not sure if that makes me stupid, weak, or both. Probably both, but I won’t hide behind the idea that someone should have saved me from Nevin or even from myself.”

  “But—”

  “That was my responsibility and it may have taken me longer than it should have, but eventually I got away and I’m never going back.” The vehemence in her voice should have made him feel good.

  Instead, it about broke his heart. “I told you that you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

  “I’m strong enough to do what I have to now.” A faraway look came into Kitty’s eyes. “That’s what matters.”

  Tack felt like there was more meaning to her words than what was on the surface, but he had no idea what it was. He only knew it left him feeling unsettled.

  The way she seemed to be disconnecting from the present one second to the next just made that feeling more acute. Just as she’d grown more and more content on the way to the overlook, her body language and expression changing bit by bit, now she was visibly withdrawing into herself.

  The worst was how he felt like she was just disappearing. Her body was there, but he felt nothing coming from her. Something in their discussion had triggered a mental, emotional, and even physical retreat he would have denied possible if he hadn’t seen it happen before his eyes.

  An almost frenzied need to bring her back to the present washed over him. His instincts were telling him the best way to accomplish that, but his brain insisted it was a bad, bad idea.

  Fighting the urge to act on his instincts, Tack cleaned up the detritus of lunch. It only took a couple of minutes to put everything back in his pack. But in that short time, Kitty maintained her distant silence and she drew further away from him.

  And she couldn’t afford to do that.

  He couldn’t say how he knew that; he just did.

  Tack’s certainty growing that she’d checked out mentally in a way that was dangerous for her emotions, he put his pack aside and scooted closer to Kitty. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “Wildcat?” he prompted, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “You okay in there?”

  “Of course.” The words were right, but the vacant tone was anything but.

  He slid his hand under her hair, cupping her neck, giving physical contact to draw her back to him and now. She didn’t react to the touch at all and that scared him.

  “Damn it, Caitlin Elizabeth Grant, look at me.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Don’t.”

  “What?” he asked in a tone as gentle as he’d spoken sternly before. Come on, wildcat, tell me not to yell at you.

  Her silence changed, as if she was searching for words. “Call me Caitlin.” She frowned. “I don’t like it.”

  “I thought you wanted me to.” She’d said so, hadn’t she?

  “No.”

  “Why not? Why don’t you like it?”

  She shrugged.

  And that was it. He was done playing nice, his own misgivings not nearly as powerful as his need to stop whatever was going on inside Kitty’s mind.

  With careful, but inexorable pressure, he turned her head so she faced him. Her pupils were dilated like they’d been yesterday, her complexion waxy, but her lips were pink and parted invitingly.

  Her breathing changed just a little bit and he took that as a victory.

  “I’m going to kiss you, wildcat. Are you up for it?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tack’s gut was telling him this is what he needed to do, but damned if he would kiss her without her permission.

  She’d had enough choices taken away; that was becoming clearer the more he found out about her life before returning to Cailkirn.

  “What?” Suddenly she was looking at him and seeing him. “You’re going to kiss me? Why would you do that?”

  He almost laughed. He did groan. His body was burning for her. “Because I want to.”

  “Why?”

  “You really need to ask?”

  “No?”

  “You don’t sound real sure there, sweetheart.”

  She bit her bottom lip and then released it. “I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

  “Good thing I am, then, huh?”

  “Maybe?”

  “I tell you what, let’s give it a try and you can let me know if you agree, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  More relieved at her acquiescence than he should be, he tipped his head forward and slid his lips across hers in the simplest and most chaste of touches.

  A small sigh shuddered out of her, the breath washing over his lips.

  He kissed her again, this time molding their mouths and moving his lips against hers for long delicious moments. Her small hands came up to clutch the front of his long sleeved T-shirt, her fingers twisting in the fabric as she tried to pull him closer.

  He went willingly, allowing their upper bodies to touch.

  I
t wasn’t skin-on-skin contact, but that didn’t seem to matter to the electric shocks short-circuiting his nerve endings.

  He flicked his tongue out to taste her. The flavor of grapes and ripe strawberries exploded on his tongue along with a sweetness that was all Kitty Grant.

  Certain it would become an addiction way too easily, he still wanted more of that taste. He delved into her mouth and she welcomed him, sliding her tongue along his and pressing their lips closer together.

  His reasons for initiating the kiss melted, along with everything else around them, and he reveled in the touch and feel of this woman he’d craved for too many years of his life.

  He maneuvered them so she was lying on her back on the tarp and he was partially over her without once breaking his lips from hers. To do so would have been a travesty of epic proportions.

  Her fingers kneaded him through his shirt like a cat. Such an innocent touch, but it felt good. So good that between that and the kiss, his erection was pressing hard enough against his fly he’d be surprised if it didn’t leave an imprint on his flesh.

  He wanted skin, though. Craved her skin under his fingertips and damned if common sense was going to stop him from getting exactly that.

  He slid his hand under her top and ran into a barrier. A thin layer of cotton knit warmed by her body stood in the way of his caress. He pulled at the T-shirt with impatient fingers, popping the button open on the waistband and yanking down her jeans’ zipper when it took too long.

  The T-shirt came free and he pushed his hand up under the hem to just lay it against her stomach.

  She went completely still; even her lips stopped moving and her chest barely lifted with her shallow breaths.

  Reluctantly pulling his head back, he broke the kiss and opened his eyes to make sure she was okay.

  Sky-blue eyes filled with wonder looked up at him. “You are good at this.”

  Pleasure zinged through him at her compliment even though he hadn’t had any real doubts on that issue, but he didn’t smile or acknowledge it. He couldn’t. There was something too important about this moment, and if he opened his mouth, he might have to acknowledge it.

  His concerns put to rest, he resumed the kiss, deliberately closing his eyes to anything beyond the sensation of touch. He spread his fingers out, expanding the contact and brushing over silky smooth skin.

  A soft moan escaped from her throat but was muted by his mouth covering hers.

  His pinky rested against the waistband of her panties. He rubbed it back and forth, teasing himself with how close to her feminine sex he was. The temptation to go lower too strong to resist, Tack moved his hand just enough so that two fingertips slipped past the thin elastic.

  Her hand grabbed his wrist and he waited to see what she would do, knowing it would take a helluva lot of self-control to stop if that’s what she wanted. Her fingers squeezed and released convulsively twice before she pushed down, offering silent permission to touch her more intimately.

  He brushed the top of her mons, pleased when he encountered soft curls. Some men preferred denuded flesh down there; he wasn’t one of them.

  Kitty’s pelvis tilted up as if asking for more, another moan pressing from her lips to his as her short fingernails dug into his wrist.

  The signs of her arousal fueled his own and he gave her what she wanted, moving his hand so his middle finger slipped right between her nether lips to caress the tiny button at the top where her labia met.

  Kitty’s whole body went stiff and then jerked, her fingers digging more urgently into the muscles of his chest and flesh of his wrist. The small sting of pain only added to his excitement.

  He pulled his head back again, this time because he wanted to see what her beautiful features looked like in passion. Dazed blue eyes stared back at him, filled with both confusion and unarguable need.

  The scent of her musk mixed with moss and wet earth, headier and more potent to his libido than any perfume created in a lab ever could be. The image of her mouth wet and swollen from his kisses and her throat flushed with desire were more arousing than any airbrushed image in a skin mag could be either.

  “Okay?” he asked as he moved his finger in light circles over her clitoris.

  She nodded, her lips moving but no sound coming out.

  “I’m going to make you come,” he promised. “You’re going to scream my name.”

  That elicited a groan and more fervent movement of her pelvis, but no words. It would have been flattering if he wasn’t an inch away from coming in his shorts like a horny teenager.

  He kissed her again but wasn’t content with only learning the texture and flavor of her mouth. He searched out sensitive spots on her neck and behind her ears, tasting the salt of her skin and its silken smoothness with flicks of his tongue.

  “Tack,” she keened as he dipped his finger lower to draw her dew up to her clitoris.

  He answered by biting her earlobe gently, only to be rewarded with a sweet little whimper he’d be jacking off to for weeks to come.

  He was as hard as he’d ever been, but the urge to get himself off wasn’t anything like the need to give her the ultimate pleasure.

  That’s not to say he refrained from rubbing his cock against her hip as he continued to touch her. He was only human. His every caress brought forth a sexy reaction that only increased his own sexual need and desire to please her.

  She came without any warning, no stiffening of her body, no verbal babbling, no indication she was on the edge until suddenly she was over it. Her wordless cry echoed in the chill air around them, not his name but damn satisfying nonetheless.

  Continuing to touch her very gently, he prolonged her pleasure and her sweet body convulsed and jerked in aftershocks of the ultimate pleasure. She said his name then, whispering it over and over again as her hips moved restlessly and her breath came in shuddering gasps.

  All at once, it was too much and ecstasy washed over him, cum exploding out of his cock into his boxers as he came in an uncontrolled rush for the first time in years.

  He dropped down beside her, content and sleepy, like he never allowed himself to be after sex. Tack MacKinnon didn’t do out-of-control and he didn’t do postcoital cuddling either.

  But damned if he didn’t want to pull her into his arms and lay together on the hard ground for the next hour or two.

  His hand still in her jeans, his fingertip barely touched her swollen clitoris. “Damn. I’ve never done that before.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said in a breathless voice.

  He chuckled. “I meant coming in my jeans.”

  “You did?” She sat up, jolting and blushing like crazy as his hand moved against her sex.

  “Problem there, Kitty?” he asked with a grin he knew was wicked, but couldn’t help himself.

  “Your hand…it’s in my…you’re still…” She glared at him. “Don’t tease me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He slid his hand out nice and slow.

  She didn’t seem to mind and made no move to push it away when he left his fingers resting against her belly, the scent of her climax floating in the air around them.

  He might not cuddle, but he liked skin-to-skin contact with his lovers.

  Oh shit. Tack yanked his hand away from Kitty and jumped to his feet. He backed away, looking for distance he wasn’t going to find, but he had to try.

  “Tack?” Kitty looked up, her expression too vulnerable for what had just happened.

  “I need to clean up. I’m not hiking back two and half miles with jizz soaking my shorts.”

  “Um…okay. I’ll just…” She looked around, clearly uncertain what she should do. “I’ll fold up the tarp.”

  He nodded even as he turned away, grabbing his pack as he headed toward some brush cover for privacy.

  * * *

  Caitlin stared after Tack, unsure what had just happened.

  He’d kissed her. He’d touched her body, making her feel like it was her body in a w
ay she’d lost at some point. He’d made her come just like he promised. And then he’d vaulted away from her like she was diseased.

  Or a huge disappointment.

  Only he said he’d come, too, so he couldn’t be mad at her for not taking care of his needs. Maybe he’d wanted her to participate more?

  Nevin used to harangue her for lying like a dead fish in bed.

  But with Tack, she hadn’t been off in her head, just waiting for it to be over. She’d been so in the moment she’d felt like she was coming out of her skin.

  Maybe he regretted kissing and touching her, only she hadn’t initiated it, no matter how much she might have wanted to. He had.

  Her thoughts a confusing jumble, she did what she’d told him she would and folded the tarp into a neat, tight square for his pack.

  “You ready to head back?” he asked as he walked up and took the bundle from her hands a few minutes later.

  She tried to look at him unobtrusively but couldn’t tell if he’d taken off his shorts or just cleaned up and left them on. And she didn’t know why that should matter, but when it came to Tack MacKinnon, Caitlin was discovering that her curiosity knew no bounds.

  “Sure.” He’d given her enough of his day.

  Tack had told her how busy he was; she shouldn’t be feeling disappointment that their nature sojourn was over.

  She didn’t know what to feel about what had just happened between them.

  “What was that?” she asked as they started the return journey.

  When she heard other hikers coming toward her and Tack, she felt a huge surge of gratitude for their timing. What had been one of most pleasurable experiences of her life could have just as easily been the most embarrassing.

  Not humiliating.

  She’d learned the difference between the two and Caitlin was pretty sure that nothing she and Tack did together could humiliate her. Embarrass her, yes, but not humiliate.

  “A kiss,” he said shortly, nodding a greeting to the other hikers as they passed each other on the trail.