Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  But what about her bubbles? Back rub? Bubbles? Who was she kidding? Who would forgo a backrub from those magic hands?

  Calum sidled up behind her. The smell of floral blossoms infused the hot languid humidity. Her feet were shimmering silk. She felt his fingers slide across her shoulder to her neck and stop there, twirling miniscule circles. He lowered his head close to hers and whispered in her ear. “Sit up. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  With her knees pulled up, she leaned over and pressed her chest close to her thighs. Her breasts felt heavy with arousal, her nipples beaded and ached for attention.

  A low laugh sounded from his throat. “You’re not making this easy on me. I’m going to need a back rub after.”

  “I thought you were my humble servant, not my whiny, complaining one,” she said into her knees. She just couldn’t help resisting him.

  “Ah true, my suffering is insignificant, knowing I give you pleasure.”

  He did make her smile. “That’s more like it.”

  Calum rubbed the almond oil on Beth’s back. “Do I?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Give you pleasure, Beth?”

  “It feels good, Calum.”

  “Just good?” He kneaded her shoulders then withdrew.

  “Really good.”

  His fingers ran down along her spine so delicately she trembled.

  “Sometimes, close to the edge of aching is exquisite pleasure.”

  What mode of massage was this now? He touched her so softly, every sensitive nerve purred to his touch. Goose bumps rose on her skin as delicate trembles roused in the wake of his touch. Where the foot rub had rendered her to putty, she felt utterly aroused now.

  “Let me hear what sounds you make, m’eudail, when you let yourself go.” He pressed into one muscle, and then eased up over another, undulating her back to a rhythm that melted into the softly playing Latin music.

  It was all she could do to swallow back the moan that hid in the back of her throat.

  “When you ask me, Beth, I will indulge your desires with exquisite leisure. Don’t forbid yourself. Take your pleasure, and I will bring you over the edge, over and over again.”

  Take her to the edge with exquisite leisure? Could the man impart more passion with those hands? The flickering candlelight bounced over the water.

  How was she supposed to sustain sexual control with him whispering promises like that? She had already determined this man in her life would bring nothing but complication. She should tell him to stop. And she would.

  Soon.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  Each of his fingers seemed to play its own sweet melody. She moaned, she just couldn’t hold it back. A sexy low rumble sounded near her ear as he expanded his touch, slipping farther and farther, trailing up her sides so close to her naked, heavy, stimulated breasts. Oh … bliss, not to mention she was deliciously approaching the sweet aching part.

  “Is there something you might ache for, Beth?”

  Mind–reader. He’d caught on to the effect his touch had on her. She detected a note of amusement in his voice.

  A soft cry escaped her as he ran his hands down her low back and then slightly lower finding more sensitive skin to play with.

  In that husky brogue, he kept up a coo of promises that sounded like requests until she realized she would like nothing more than to sit under his hands until the water turned clear into vapour.

  She wanted him. Hadn’t she always? No one else but him, naked in the tub, in the bed, in the trees, everywhere. Exquisite pleasure? Okay, take me now, I’m yours.

  She leaned back, every nerve in her body craving his hands, his lips. “Calum, don’t stop. It’s you I’m aching for. Since the moment we first met. I’ve never had trouble resisting men, but you’re like a tsunami over my little picket fence of restraint … Calum?”

  She turned to look behind her. No one. Her eyes darted around the room. Downstairs she heard the screen door slap against the wood.

  Her warrior was gone.

  Chapter 18

  Aroused to no Avail

  The next morning, Calum stood at the stove stirring chopped green onions and fresh basil into eggs and cream. Finally he heard some movement upstairs — the toilet flushed. That woman could sleep.

  No wonder. She had the entire bed to herself. He had taken the couch, again, exasperating the kink in his neck. Little choice he’d had.

  Last night, much to his distress, his body had not sprung into solidity after tantalizing Beth in the bath. Every other muscle had tuned in, ready to perform, but not the captain.

  Leave her aching for you. Thanks, Finn. Where was the sense in that? He beat the eggs a little faster. He’d come to a decision last night. Beth must never discover the kind of passion–rousing games he’d been playing. She’d be furious. Since the theme of Finn’s game was seduction, and Calum could not yet perform, it would be hands off Beth until the last task was complete.

  Finn would appear sometime that day, spell it out and by nightfall Calum and Beth would reaffirm their bond. The day would be a platonic one, like good friends — walking the hills, cooking together, telling stories — the kind of relationship Beth was comfortable in.

  Calum looked up as she bounced down the stairs. Fresh and gleaming, her cheeks were kissed with pink, a shine on her lips, long blond hair in a cascade over her shoulders, and that was all he intended to notice.

  “Hey, Calum, I missed you last night.” He felt her gaze on him as he scrambled the eggs.

  Missed him?

  “Where did you go?”

  “Went for a walk, lass, in the moonlight — a long walk.” And a swim in the frigid lake, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Neither would he disclose what else he’d noticed in the moonlight, not until he was sure.

  “Oh. I waited for you but you had me so relaxed, I fell asleep.”

  “You waited? Ah, I suppose you wanted to berate me for my boldness in the bath. I’ll save you the trouble and apologize for the things I said and the way I touched you. I hope you’ll forgive me when you taste these eggs.” He turned them out onto two plates beside seven–grain toast and cherry tomatoes.

  “That does look good. And no, I have no complaints about your behaviour last night.” She came around the table and ran her hand up his back before she swiped a coffee cup off the shelf. Warmed by the heat of her touch, every nerve electrified.

  He put the plates at opposite ends of the table, as distant as possible, and then he sat down. Beth joined him. She picked up a forkful of eggs and placed them rather slowly into her mouth, blatantly showing him that rose pink tongue of hers.

  “Mmm,” she hummed, “good eggs, nice texture, lush, and hot, and — ”

  Lush eggs? “Glad you like them.” He cut her off before those eggs hatched into more sensual images. The woman was flirting with him. Where had this Beth come from? He was the pursuer, she the resister. That’s the way it was supposed to be. Him in control.

  “Calum, I have a suggestion. Let’s take the day to relax and clear our minds. Look at this place — it’s paradise — and did I mention that foot rub last night was heavenly, and my shoulder is a bit stiff. Did you see the hot tub in the back?” The way she raised her delicate eyebrows in coquettish suggestion would have had him on her in an instant — normally.

  He eyed her warily then rose from the table. This change in conduct was alarming. Finn, he cursed silently. The trickster knew exactly how to notch up Beth’s arousal levels. The bubble bath backrub unraveled her resistance and stimulated her deep–seated desire when he wasn’t ready for her yet. He’d forgotten about the entertainment factor. This was a game to Finn. He quickly strategized, hating to do it, but Beth needed to be diffused.

  She looked up at him with a smile like morning sunshine.

&nb
sp; “If Matthew intends to build a hospice as you believe, he will need more than forty thousand dollars. Does Meals on the Move have a large bank account?”

  “No, it’s a nonprofit organization that survives by donations and volunteers. They charge a small fee to cover the cost of the meals. Honestly, I can’t imagine any of their clients have jewelry enough to finance Matthew’s plans. Besides, he doesn’t know anything about jewelry.”

  “What does he know about?”

  She placed her fork on the plate. “Real estate, mortgages, and he’s done well in the stock market.”

  “Let’s speculate he has robbed someone associated with your food service to finance this hospice.”

  “I’ve heard of contractors stealing from the elderly for unnecessary house repairs, but that wouldn’t work for Matthew.” She slid her plate across the table. “I need time to think about it. I’ve done nothing wrong. If I don’t believe the truth will prevail, then I’ll go crazy worrying.”

  He stood against the counter wanting to hurl her worries into the next galaxy. “All right, lass, let me clean up this mess.” As she stood up from the table, Calum turned on the faucet and squeezed in dish soap.

  She slipped her plate into the sink and slid her hands over his. “Do you think you have enough bubbles?” Scooping a dollop of suds, she dropped it on his forearm and twirled figure eights with her index finger.

  “Yes, I have enough. Stop that now.” He focused on broken egg shells and burnt toast, anything but her feminine scent, fresh as a spring meadow. She deserved nothing short of a rapturous reunion and he was too close to regaining his potency to admit to a performance problem now. “Would you pass me the coffee pot?”

  “The big, strong warrior seemed to like the bubbles last night.” She dug out another handful and mashed them into the back of his neck. Sloppy and wet. He glared at her and swiped them off.

  “I’m warning you, Beth.”

  Her hand dove back in. The woman was taunting him. “What are you going to do, spank me?”

  “Do you feel ill this morning?”

  Her smile turned into exactly the kind of devilish intimation he would have used.

  “Why don’t you take your shirt off, Calum? Come on, I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t ask me to.”

  She was playing his game, the little fiend.

  “You don’t want to splash dishwater on it.” She whipped up his shirt and plopped suds in a nasty wet spray across his back.

  Shaking his hands off into the sink he turned, freed from his previous inclination for self–discipline. He could smile like the devil too. “You’re all hell–fire this morning, aren’t you? Well now, lass, you asked for it.”

  A wee scream escaped her as she dodged him and bolted toward the sitting room, knocking over a chair on her way around the couch. He righted the chair and came after her.

  They stood on opposite sides of the three–seater. Her eyes flared wild with excitement, her chest rose and fell rapidly. Feet spread, knees bent, she was ready to dash around the furniture.

  A laugh squeaked out of her. “You may be strong, but I’m fast. You’ll never catch me, warrior.”

  Calum vaulted over the couch and caught her around the waist as she took off.

  “That was not fair.” She tried to pry loose his grip.

  “‘Twas as fair as sudsing an innocent man.”

  As he lifted her off her feet, her scream came out tangled in laughter.

  “Thought you were fast,” he teased.

  She dug her teeth into his arm, just hard enough to hurt. He didn’t let go. “Ah now, that’s just nasty.”

  He dropped to the seat of the couch pulling her down on top. Beth misread his intent and relaxed her struggle. He gripped her tightly in his lap, smiled like the lust–filled warrior he was, and then lowered his mouth toward hers. His woman went limp. It was all he needed. Two seconds later Beth was flipped over his knee.

  “You barbarian. Let me go.” She twisted and dug her teeth into the side of his leg.

  “Bloody hell,” he yelled, shaking her loose. He held her head against the couch so she couldn’t get him with those teeth. “I’ll not let you go until I’ve delivered that spanking you asked for.” He had her pinned solidly; her arms caught between his legs, her sweet behind at his mercy.

  “If you’d like to see the sun rise tomorrow I’d suggest you let me go,” she warned.

  But Beth wasn’t struggling with any heart. The woman was fully piqued, and Calum was completely with her in that sense.

  He cupped her buttock in one hand. “Sorry, lass, keep in mind that discipline is a burden for the punisher. It’s not nice to bite, you wee hellion.”

  “You bullshitter, you’re loving this. You keep in mind, Mister-Caveman-Mentality, I will retaliate when you least expect it.”

  “Ah, I’ve no doubt you will.” He kept his tone amused. “And thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to consider your threat as I dole out a fair punishment.”

  She let out one hearty cry of frustration.

  He slipped his hand down between her thighs — he couldn’t help it. Sweet mercy, she was warm in there. She went utterly still. “What are you doing?”

  “You know, this didn’t have to come to violence.” He slid his hand over the tight denim, down her leg to fondle the back of her knee. Too much material there, so he ran his fingers back up her thigh.

  “Calum, let me go.”

  “Och, I’m not nearly finished with you. It’s been a long while since I’ve had a woman in this position.” He circled over her buttock again, enjoying her sweet, round bum. The muscles in his legs contracted. “I’ll have to take some time to consider how many strokes are fair.” With the tips of his fingers, he ran back and forth at the uppermost part of her leg where it met those engaging curves.

  A muffled moan sounded from below, bringing a smile to his lips.

  “And this material is fairly thick.” He followed the seam in a slow, deep exploration. “What do you think fair — ten good wallops?”

  She answered with a gasp.

  He dove down deeper, rolling his thumb over her sensitive nub, once then twice, before sliding back up.

  Another gasp.

  “Ah, good,” he purred. “You’re cooperating. Sure to go in your favour — seven strokes then.”

  “Calum …” she said weakly.

  He would deliver strokes, long sensual strokes. This was his favourite pastime. He could draw those gasps out for hours. Or that sharp inhale. How many of those could he extract? They’d always responded differently to each other over lifetimes, but respond, they did. What did this Bethia crave?

  He felt his own craving come on strong.

  Then it hit him. Since when did he have the will of a mouse?

  By all that was holy, he was a bastard. Hadn’t he decided not one hour ago that there’d be no intimacy between them today and look where his hand was. He pulled away.

  “Sorry, I no longer wallop women. That will have to be punishment enough for you, my wee hellion.” He let her go, slipped her onto the couch, kissed her forehead, and went back to the soap suds.

  • • •

  Beth watched Calum doing the dishes. What the heck was with this guy? That was twice she’d ricocheted from get–your–hands–off–me to don’t ever–stop–touching–me–like–that. And twice, he’d stopped. No man had ever stopped — that had always been her job. One she excelled at to the sound of her mantra ringing from the stars — unrestrained passion led to shattered hearts. Calum was bringing about a serious mantra shutdown. She didn’t stop to wonder why. Every nerve ending under her skin was turned on high.

  It looked like Calum was working those dishes over to save his life. She took a moment to study him. He had a body that would catch any
woman’s eye, whether it was the lines, or proportion, or shape, or a combination of all three — the man was hot. She scanned his back from the wide shoulders, those upper muscles gently flexing, then she followed the tapered slope down to his firm butt. Did he have dimples there? She should find out. After all, fair is fair, and he couldn’t have gotten more personal with her. With her gaze on her target, Beth stood.

  “Gee, Calum, I’d hate to see what you’d do to me if I’d drawn blood.”

  “Me too. As you can see, I’ve no manner of self–control. If you wish to save yourself, I’d suggest you remain on that side of the room.”

  “I have been saving myself, for twenty–five years.” She crossed the room. “I’m losing my will for it. What did you promise? To bring me to my knees?” She delivered this last question as a throaty whisper in his ear.

  He flinched. “Back off, Beth. I’m no better than a beast around you.”

  She ran her fingers down his spine and over the curve of his butt, feeling his muscles instantly tense. Interesting reaction.

  “Bloody hell, what’s gotten into you, lass?”

  “I think it was this finger here.” She slid her hand down his arm under the suds to grasp his index finger.

  “I’m sorry about that. Not that you didn’t ask for it, but ‘twas inappropriate.”

  “I’m not asking for an apology.” She ran her fingers over the sun–kissed hairs on his arm. Touching him gave her an extraordinary feeling, as if her tactile senses had been tweaked up major octaves. Under the hardened muscles, fine tremors ran through him.

  He stepped back, slipping her hand from his arm. “Beth, are you having this change of disposition because of Matthew? Do you want to hurt him for hurting you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Matthew. We’re very much alone here. I want you, you want me — you do want me, don’t you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Always … but you’ve not given yourself to a man ever, not even Matthew?”

  Beth felt the heat rise in her face. She didn’t mean to still be a virgin at twenty–five, but she’d never met a man who exuded the kind of sensual overload that Calum radiated. “No, and I’m not the only twenty–five–year–old woman who hasn’t had sex, you know.”