Bad Boys In Kilts

by Donna Kauffman

  “And ye see me that way now? Truly?” She kept pushing, needing to be absolutely certain before taking another single step. “Because of something Daisy said? Or because I wore a dress? Because that wasn’t me, Brodie, that was me being stupid and insecure and thinking that I’d do almost anything to get your attention. And now you want my hair down and I’m thinking I’m no’ the woman you—” She broke off when he burst out laughing.

  “You keep talking about yourself as if you’re not desirable. Don’t you understand? It’s no’ just the hair, or the clothes, that make the woman. In fact, it’s almost everything else that does.”

  “That’s friendship, Brodie. I need to know that you—”

  “Desire you?” He took the edges of her coveralls and yanked her to him. “Want you?” Pushing her back against the billiard table, he pressed the full length of his body against hers. “You mean like this?”

  And, without wasting another breath, or even asking her if she was ready, he kissed her. Took her mouth, and claimed it, he did. There was no slow lowering of his mouth to hers. One instant she’d been standing there, clutching the pool table as if her life depended on it.

  The next thing she knew, she was clutching him. Fists in his shirt and in his hair. Kissing him back as if her life depended on it.

  And maybe it did.

  Chapter 8

  He was kissing Kat Henderson. Like there would be no tomorrow and this was his last chance at heaven. She tasted like heaven.

  He groaned when she sank her fingers into his hair, then grabbed on and kissed him back with the same fervor. How in the hell had he missed out on this for so long? Their tongues dueled, both of them seeking to gain as much of each other as possible. It was insane, the need he had for her. It should rightly terrify him, and on many levels, it did. He knew her too damn well, knew everything there was to know about her ... except this. Which served to make every touch, every taste, that much more intense, that much more primal.

  Yet he knew immediately that this was what he’d been missing all along. A connection that went so deep it was like a joining of souls.

  He heard what he thought was a whimpering moan coming from her, but when she pushed him back a little, she was smiling, her cheeks flushed as she shook her head in disbelief.

  “What?” he said, struggling to pull back on the reins a little. It felt like he’d waited his whole life for this moment. . . and now that it was here, patience wasn’t looking to be his strongest suit.

  “Us,” she said simply. “What the bloody hell are we doin’ here, Brodie?”

  He grinned at that, at the excitement he saw reflecting so purely in her eyes. “If I have to explain that to ye, lass, we’re in a heap of trouble.”

  She swatted at his shoulder, then gasped when he caught her hand in his and slid two of her fingers into his mouth. Desire made her pupils punch wide. Her lower lip dropped further as he pulled her fingers deeper and began to suck. He wanted to suck that lower lip of hers. Badly.

  He released her fingers, letting them slide slowly, wetly, from his mouth, nipping at the soft pads just before letting go completely. Her gaze was locked on his as he cupped her cheek and pulled her mouth back to his. He nibbled at her bottom lip, making her moan deep this time, and perhaps there was a little groan of his own as she sighed and sank into him. He took her mouth again, and again. Leisurely, thoroughly. Her bottom lip was an irresistible delight, one he treated himself to repeatedly and with great indulgence. If her little whimpers were anything to judge by, he wasn’t alone in the pleasure it evoked.

  Her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck. There was no battle this time as he continued his exploration, but a slow capitulation as she let him have his way with her mouth. His entire body was rock-hard and screaming for release, but with a clarity of sanity he was surprised he still possessed, he knew that they would both be better served by scraping together whatever patience they could find.

  And take this one exquisite step at a time.

  He had many firsts in his life with Kat. First fish caught. First bike ridden. First ale consumed, followed by far too many more, leading to their first time drunk, as well.

  But this would be by far the most important first. He’d never forgive himself if he did anything to screw it up.

  “Ye make me ache, Kat-o-mine, that you do,” he whispered against her jaw. She murmured something he couldn’t make out, but let her head drop back, allowing him access to the soft skin of her neck. Of which he took full advantage.

  She moved against him, her hips shifting in the tight space between the table ... and him. Now he was growling, and it was all he could do to maintain concentration on the task at hand. He alternately kissed, licked, and nipped at that place just below her ear ... while simultaneously slipping another button open on her coveralls, and another still, until he could push the garment off her shoulders and down her arms, so the top half hung around her waist.

  He didn’t want to risk making her feel self-conscious again, but he had to look at her. Had to see her with these new eyes of his. He lifted his head, holding her steady with his hands at her hips, gripping the bunched-up coveralls ... and, more importantly, keeping part of her body in constant contact with a very needy part of his.

  “Och, but what ye do for a man’s white t-shirt should be declared illegal, Kat.”

  Under her coveralls she wore a tank-style, ribbed undershirt that was so thin he could see every detail of the bra she was barely wearing underneath. She was a tall woman, but small-chested, yet what she had was cupped sweetly inside lacy little cups of silk that plumped them up perfectly for the taking. And take them he would.

  His throat went dry and his fingers dug into her hips as he struggled against the need to yank her tight to him and press his now-throbbing cock into that soft spot at the joining of her thighs. Where he knew she’d be wet for him, ready for him. It cost him. Dearly. But the reward was just as great. “Ye run about claiming you don’t like the frippery and such of bein’ a woman, so kindly explain to me where that wisp of nothing came from.”

  She was blushing furiously, clearly wanting to believe he was aroused by her, and just as clearly not. She gripped his wrists, but didn’t try to wriggle free. “Please, don’t make fun—”

  “A man never teases about something that makes his body harder than the marble cutting board atop his own bar.” He tugged her just a little closer, costing him another chunk of his restraint, but wanting her to know just how deeply she was affecting him. He pressed the bulge of his jeans hard between her thighs. “That’s what you’re doin’ to me.” He shifted his gaze to the perfectly budded peaks of her breasts, just begging to be suckled, then lifted his eyes back to hers. “And it’s glad I am that you seem to enjoy it, too.”

  Her flush crept down her neck, but her lips twitched a little. And for the first time, he saw the other part of Kat, the part he knew as well as he knew himself. “I never said otherwise,” she teased. “And why is it I’m half undressed and you’re still—?”

  “I believe I’m the one collecting my spoils here.” He pressed even more deeply into her, making her gasp and dragging a long, guttural groan from him as well. “However, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, by all means, take a little for yourself as well.” He gamely held his arms out to the side, still keeping her hips pinned to the table behind her with his. “Like as not you’ll take the next round anyway, seeing as I’m a little distracted at the moment.”

  She surprised him by reaching immediately for his shirt and tugging it up over his head. Seeing his slightly stunned expression as she tossed it over her head onto the table behind her, she smiled smugly. “When have you ever known me to take a pass on gaining an edge in a competition?” She took her time getting her fill, looking him over.

  He had no idea how he looked to her, wondering if he suddenly looked as different to her as she had to him.

  “You have a fine chest, that ye do, Brodie Chisholm,” she
said on a sigh as her gaze all but gobbled him up, making him twitch even harder.

  He grinned, liking that thread of need he heard in her voice. “Aye, something we both seem to be in agreement with about the other. Speaking of which, I believe I was in the midst of claimin’ my prize.” He reached around behind her. She stiffened slightly when he nimbly released the catch on her bra.

  “What are you about now?”

  He slipped his fingers inside the edges of her tank top and slid the straps down her arms, slowly dragging the lacy silk across those oh-so-perfect budded nipples of hers. She gasped first, then moaned, grabbing the edge of the table once again for support as her knees dipped a little.

  Once he’d slid the garment free, it joined his shirt on the table.

  “The only feminine bit I’m wearin’, and you—”

  “Think you’re incredibly sexy standing there with your coveralls half hanging down from your hips, those perfect nipples of yours pushing through that t-shirt, begging for my hands to cup them.” Which he did, making her knees buckle a little again as he softly let his palms rub over her nipples through the thin, ribbed cotton.

  “Dear, sweet Christ,” she murmured, her knuckles white as she gripped the table harder.

  He lowered his head, unable to keep himself from her a moment longer. He captured one cotton-covered nub between his lips and pulled it slowly, softly into his mouth. Her groan was deep and satisfied, pleasing him in a way another woman’s climax couldn’t even compare with. She released her death grip on the table and clutched at his head, keeping him where he was, which was perfectly fine by him.

  He slid his hand up and toyed with her other nipple, making her body twitch hard and her hips drive forward. So responsive, his Kat. Every inch of his body was rigid and aching hot. He pushed the t-shirt up, needing to taste her sweet flesh. Her nails raked his scalp as he finally circled her bare nipple with his tongue. Her hips were pumping now. He skated his palm across the nipple that was still damp from the t-shirt he’d suckled it through, then rolled it gently between his fingers as he continued to flicker his tongue over her.

  She groaned again and again, holding him to her breast, her back arching now. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip his arm around that arched back and lift her up onto the pool table. He pushed her back and climbed right up on top of her.

  “Brodie,” she gasped. “What—” The word ended on another long groan as he pressed his hips to hers. When he’d dragged her onto the table, her coveralls had slipped down her hips, revealing a pair of soft rose-colored bikini panties that made the pale skin of her belly and thighs look luminous in comparison.

  He slid to one side of her, needing to see all of her, touch all of her. With her blond hair all wild and spread out across the green felt, her skin so alabaster pure against the dark backing, all slender legs and slim torso, she looked like some sort of fairy sprite. Which, had he mentioned it out loud, would have surely brought a derisive snort from her.

  The thought of it made him grin.

  “That looks distinctly feral,” she told him.

  “Och, but I’m a harmless bloke, merely looking to pleasure his lady.”

  That earned him a short giggle, which somehow turned him on more than everything that had happened to this point.

  “Yer doin’ a fine job of it so far,” she told him on a sigh.

  For all that he had her sprawled across his billiard table, in complete dishabille, he’d have thought she’d have turned shy or self-conscious. Once again, the Kat he knew peeked through. There was almost a taunting thread to her tone now. “Of course,” she said, “you have me wondering just how much ‘spoils’ one round of darts should earn ye. And don’t think I’m no’ payin’ close attention, as I plan to best you for certain next round.”

  Brodie reached across her and plucked one of the handmade darts from the table, twirling it in his fingers. “Do ye, now.”

  Her eyes widened a little, but not in fear. He loved that about her most. She didn’t shy away from him. Never would. Their bond went far too deep.

  He shifted onto his side next to her, propping himself up on one elbow as he continued to toy with the dart. “Lovely piece of art, don’t you think?” Then he looked at her and winked. “The dart is quite a piece of work, too.” And he got the satisfaction of seeing the pink rise in her cheeks again, even as the curiosity regarding his intentions flared to life in her eyes. Och, but she was a complexity of needs, his Kat. He was going to quite enjoy unraveling them all.

  Slowly, and with great deliberation, he turned the dart around, cupping the sharp end in his palm ... then softly twirled the feathers across first one bare nipple then the other. Both were still budded and damp from his earlier ministrations, and slightly flushed in color. Her hips jerked as her back arched deep, her sudden intake of breath coming out on a long moan as he slowly trailed the soft feathers down the line of her torso, circling her navel.

  He leaned down and continued his exploration with his tongue. “Och, but a man could feast here for days,” he told her between suckling her nipples, the words never more heartfelt. “And yet ... I am drawn to the rest of the feast.”

  Her breath was coming in short gasps as he drew his tongue down along the path the feathers had taken. Shifting his body down, he hooked one finger in the slender strap holding her panties around her hips, and tugged. She gasped, arched again, and he could smell the musk of her. Aroused she was, which was a good thing. His boxers clung to the tip of his cock, so wet and ready was he for her. Had he ever wanted a woman this badly?

  With his body, aye, perhaps, he acknowledged. But when the power of love was behind that need, it took him to a place he’d never dreamed of approaching. The need was deep, bordering on desperate, and came from places within him, deep-as-a-well places he hadn’t thought he possessed.

  Possess her, that’s what he wanted. Nay, that’s what he needed.

  Patience, lad. Handle this right ... and she’ll be yours forever. The very idea almost made him come right there. And what a waste that would have been. The smile that brought to his lips also brought with it the much-needed edge he required to continue.

  As he traced his tongue along the edge of elastic that ran between her jutting hip bones, she flung one hand over her head, clutching at the far edge of the table. Her other hand came down to grip his hair so hard he was certain he lost a few in the battle. The visceral nature of her need drove him even higher. But he also resisted her urging him to move his mouth to where she needed it most.

  And smiled as he looped his finger under the other strap, and tugged, freeing her to him, but binding her thighs together at the same time. Tugging wasn’t going to work, so he flipped the dart and grabbed one of the delicate straps, using the sharp point to create a small tear.

  “What do ye think you’re doing?” she gasped, as he ripped her panties free and tossed them aside.

  “Shh,” he told her, then flicked the feathers between her legs, eliciting a surprised growl from her. “Lay back, let me play.” He glanced up at her. “We always did have the spirit of play between us, I dinnae see the need to stop it now. No’ when it might be the most fun we’ve had yet.”

  She held his gaze and almost looked as if she wanted to argue the point. That was his Kat. But then he flicked the feathers again, making her body—and his—twitch hard. And she eventually let her head loll back once again on the green felt.

  “I won’t leave you wantin’ for anything, Kat,” he murmured, as he traced his tongue from her hipbone to the fringe of her pubic hair. “That I can promise ye.”

  Her nails raked his scalp again as her grip tightened once more in his hair. He teased her legs apart with the feathers. “Open for me. Let me have my way.”

  She shifted her thighs apart—a long, keening moan ripped from her as he replaced the feathers with the very tip of his tongue, and flicked it back and forth across that most highly sensitized of nubs. Something primal within him roared
as she shifted again and allowed him even deeper access.

  He rose up, scraping the darts to the floor as he dragged her around so she lay on the length of the table, pausing only to fully remove the rest of her clothes and boots, leaving only that white t-shirt, bunched up above her breasts. He crawled up between her thighs, his face inches away from where she wanted him most. “Beautiful,” he whispered almost reverently. “Every part of you, Kat. Lovely. And all mine.” And then he buried his tongue deeply inside of her.

  The sound that ripped from her was more bark than growl, her hips pistoning up, driving his tongue even deeper. He kept the rhythm, felt her climb. He slipped several of his fingers in his mouth, then slid his hands up her body and took her nipples between his wet fingertips, softly tugging them, flicking the pads across her engorged tips.

  She went wild beneath him, and it was all he could do not to climb up her body and drive deep. But he wanted to taste her as she peaked. And he knew he could take her there again. She was so damn responsive to him, it was driving him insane. He skated the palm of one hand down her torso, then slipped his fingers between her thighs. She was growling deep now, raw, guttural sounds that drove him wild, her hips pumping, pressing herself into his face. As he slid his tongue up and over her wet, pulsing clit, pulling it gently into his mouth, he pushed one finger deep inside of her. She was hot, tight, and so ready. One slow slide out, and when he pushed back in, she climaxed. Hard.

  He swore she almost came off the table completely, her hips jerked so violently, her back arched so deeply. She held his head with her hands, and clutched at his fingers, still buried inside her, with her body. The hot, slick folds were so wet, she could barely find purchase.