Bad Boys In Kilts

by Donna Kauffman

Then she was pushing herself up, reaching for him, for any part of him she could sink her fingers into, and pulling. “Come here,” she commanded. Not begged. Not his Kat. His needy, wanting, and oh-so-hot-and-wet Kat.

  But Brodie had other ideas. He hadn’t waited all these years to discover her, only to take her like a rutting beast on a rock-hard billiard table, for God’s sake. Especially when he had a nice, soft, and very big feather bed waiting for them right up the stairs.

  He slipped free from her, dropping a hot, wet kiss right between her thighs, making her arch again, moan again. Then he slid off the table and, gripping her thighs, pulled her to him. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  “What?” She was still trying to make sense of the sudden change. Her eyes were half closed, her lips soft and relaxed.

  She looked sated and drowsy and happy ... and it was because of him. He’d never wanted anyone so much in his life. “Hold on to me, Kat.” And don’t ever let go, he thought.

  “I don’t want to play darts anymore,” she said, the words soft and growly.

  He smiled as she locked her ankles around his waist and he pulled her up and looped her arms around his neck. “No more darts.”

  “Mmm,” she managed, “that’s good.” Her smile was so soft and so damn sweet, he had to taste her.

  He kissed her, gently this time, tenderly. Her arms tightened around his neck, her thighs did the same around his waist, and she sank into the slow, sweet kiss with a soft sigh of contentment. He decided he wanted to hear that exact purr in his ear all his remaining days.

  But if he didn’t get her off this table and up those stairs, those days would be cruelly brief as he was sure he would die a certain death if he didn’t have her soon.

  “Come on,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Where?” she managed, dropping kisses along his jaw, nipping at his chin.

  He didn’t think he could be any harder, want her any more thoroughly. “Do ye have any notion a’tall what ye do to me?”

  She laughed a little and squirmed against him, hooking her heels in as he swung her off the table and walked to the stairs in the rear of the pub. “Perhaps. A wee bit.”

  “Wee?” he said, teasingly affronted as he wiggled his hips right back.

  “Och,” she declared, pulling his mouth back to hers. “Men. Take me upstairs and ravish me properly, Brodie Chisholm. Then we’ll decide who won the bigger prize today.”

  He made her squeal when he tossed her over his shoulder. It was the only way he had a prayer of making it upstairs. “Bottoms up.”

  She reached down and smacked his as he climbed.

  He was grinning like a mad fool as he kicked the door open to his upstairs loft. “That could likely be a topic for long and heated debate.”

  She smiled and hummed against his neck. “Lucky me, then.”

  No, he thought, his heart swelling as he put one knee on the bed and lowered her into the pile of linen and down. “Lucky us.”

  Chapter 9

  Kat felt drunk with power. And yet, all she’d done thus far was let him have his way with her. Not that he hadn’t seemed quite pleased with that particular setup, but she needed to know their partnership would be equal. Outside of bed, she knew they were well matched, well suited. In bed ... well, she knew he was perfectly suited for her. A wicked smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

  Now, however, it remained to be seen if she could be for him, what he’d so effortlessly become for her. A partner in full. She was particularly interested in that “in full” part ... but first things first.

  He was lowering himself down on top of her, and her resolve wavered for just a moment. She was so wanting to feel his full weight on her. Patience, Kat, patience.

  At the last second, she caught him by surprise and hooked her leg around his, rolling him to his back and sliding on top of him in the process. Not that her slighter weight could pin him down by sheer force alone, but perhaps she could persuade him to see things her way. At least for a little while.

  His momentary shock was quickly replaced by a devilish twinkle as she pinned his hands to the bed beside his head. “Claimin’ spoils ye didn’t earn, are ye?”

  “Perhaps this is part of the game, no’ the prize.” She grinned. “I’ll let you decide who can claim the victory when we’re through and done.”

  “I’m no’ so certain I’ll ever be through and done with you, Kat-o-mine.”

  She smiled at that, her heart swelling a bit, but locked her ankles on his when she felt him start to move. She tightened her grip on his wrists as well. “Now, now, play fair and let me have my turn. Else how will we decide the winner?”

  Brodie took a moment to consider this, then lay back, completely relaxed. “Have your way, then.” He closed his eyes. “Be gentle with me.”

  She laughed. “Now, why would I want to do that?” She took the opportunity to flip his jeans open and drag them down and off, along with his shoes and socks. She gave a brief thought to the clothing and torn panties scattered across the billiard table and pub floor below ... but was quickly brought back to the present when she looked upon Brodie in nothing more than his boxer briefs. She’d seen him in little more over the years, every time they’d taken a dip in the hot springs nestled in the outcropping of rocks just beyond Mr. MacClellan’s gooseberry patch.

  But she’d never seen him quite like this.

  “Do ye have any notion of how comely you look, wearin’ nothing more than that t-shirt of yours?” Brodie grinned, keeping his hands resting quite naturally next to his head. “Still a wee bit damp there in the front.”

  Kat wasn’t sure where the moxie came from. Had anyone told her she’d be so bold in this situation, she’d have laughed them down the lane. Perhaps it was because this was, after all, Brodie, her closest, most trusted friend and ally. She’d thought it would be difficult, complicated, if they took this step. And yet it had been anything but. Aye, it had been arousing, thrilling, and downright perfect. And despite the pitch of nerves currently fluttering in her belly, she seemed to have no problem answering him with a saucy retort of her own.

  She yanked the shirt over her head and tossed it away, amazed at how free and relaxed she was in her own skin. “I’m more than a wee bit damp in front, as you say.” She wriggled on him a little bit. “But you’re likely to know that better than I.”

  It gave her quite a little thrill to see him momentarily without speech. She took full advantage, once again not willing to relinquish any edge ceded to her by the opposition. Though it was getting harder and harder to see him as the opposition. When she caught his naughty wink just before he wiggled his hips at her, she thought “partner in crime” might ring truer at the moment.

  “Now you’re just braggin’ some,” she said on a laugh, then did the boldest thing she’d done yet. She slipped her hand around his still-cotton-clad erection and stroked him from base to head. “Not that you dinnae have a point there,” she added, somewhat shocked herself by her action. And yet, given the way his eyes immediately squeezed shut and his hips pumped forward as he let out a long, deep, growl ... well, she might have to consider being bolder more often.

  “You’re killin’ me, but I find I don’t mind dyin’ so much. As long as you don’t stop what you’re doing until I draw my last breath.”

  She was sliding her hand up, then pulling his briefs down along with her hand, when he opened one eye a tiny slit and peered down at her, a cocky grin ghosting the corners of his mouth. “Stop taunting me,” she warned him, “or I’ll—” She loosened her hold a wee bit.

  He immediately closed his eye and let his head press back into the duvet. “Have your way with me, then.”

  With his boxers off, she took a moment to stare at the full glory that was Brodie Chisholm. Aye, to be certain she’d pictured him just like this, in this very place, many times over. But for all she had a quite vivid imagination, she hadn’t begun to do him justice. His body was big and rugged, muscles here, sharp angles ther
e. He had a pretty face, that he did, but his body was more rough-hewn, owing to a life of physical labor, hoisting kegs of ale, and unloading truckloads of spirits. And, at the very moment, it was all hers, to do with whatever she wanted.

  It was hard to know where to begin. It wasn’t every day a girl was granted her fondest wish. She didn’t want to squander it, on the off chance she’d awake to find this was all but a dream, never to be dreamt of again.

  With his eyes still closed, his body sprawled there beneath her, ready, willing, and apparently quite capable, he casually stated, “Are you aware of the continued distress yer causin’ me by staring at me, all the while depriving me of your wonderful touch?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to touch, but just look,” she teased.

  Brodie was known for his continual good nature and charm, and no one would say he was afraid of a little hard work. But he did things at his own pace, in his own time, his own way. So Kat was once again caught quite off guard when he moved so swiftly, she was suddenly on her back, beneath him, with her own arms pinned above her head, all before she quite knew what had happened.

  He was grinning down at her. “Ye know my ancestors were fond of raiding a castle or two in their time, perhaps ravishing a comely wench here and there.”

  Kat laughed. “I don’t know about comely, but I certainly like the ravished part.”

  Brodie leaned in and gently bit her chin. “You don’t know the half of it yet.” He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. “And I believe it was quite clear how comely I find you, so we’ll have no more of that.”

  It was supposed to be harder than this, she thought. Tumultuous and angst-filled as she’d been, battling her insecurities and her fear that she wouldn’t be enough for him, she should have known better than that. She should have trusted him, the man she’d have easily trusted with her life. She should have known she could trust him with her heart, that he’d never do anything but take the same care of it as he had the rest of her. She settled beneath him, on that big bed, in the very place she’d imagined herself for so long ... and felt as if she’d finally come home.

  Her own lips quirked in a playful smile, and she shifted her hips beneath his, intending to tease a little, only to be hoisted by her own petard. Or his, as the case more clearly was proven to be. She swallowed a soft groan as he pressed that oh-so-beautifully-rigid length between her thighs. “I thought I was supposed to be havin’ a turn.”

  “Turn’s over. You took too long.”

  Now the smile came in full. “I wasn’t aware I was being timed.”

  “Victory never comes to those who wait.”

  “Sure it does,” she protested. “All the time.”

  “Not today. Today, and from this day forward, you’re all mine.” He stared down at her, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

  She wanted to believe that with all her heart.

  Then he leaned in, and rather than ravish her, he kissed her with such tenderness her eyes abruptly welled with tears.

  “What is this now,” he murmured, kissing away the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. “We’ll have no weeping here. A bloke could get a complex.”

  She snorted then, making them both laugh. “Right. You haven’t had any insecurities about this particular endeavor since you lost your virginity to Jolie Griffin in MacClellan’s gooseberry patch.”

  He sighed. “We were trying to make it to the springs. What can I say—I guess the Chisholm charm wore her down.”

  Kat rolled her eyes.

  Then Brodie surprised her by turning serious. Bracing his weight on his elbows, he released her wrists and framed her face with his hands, weaving his fingers gently into her hair. “Dinnae have any fear with me, okay? This isn’t like anything before, I need you to know—”

  She silenced him with a kiss. “I know,” she said. “That I know. I just ... I want to be enough for you.”

  He made her start when he barked out a laugh. Then he rolled to his back, pulling her atop him. “Enough for me? Since when havena’ you been?”

  She straddled his hips. “Since about thirty minutes ago when we got naked and you made me see stars.”

  He grinned. “Really? Stars was it?”

  She swatted at him, then laughed as she settled her body over his. “It’s important to me,” she said at length, loving the strength of the arms holding her so tightly. “I need to know.”

  Shifting his hands to her hips, he lifted her, then slowly pushed her down onto him. He entered her slowly, keeping his gaze locked on hers as each velvety-hard inch of him pushed inside of her. He held her there, tightly. “I know,” he said. Then he began to move beneath her. And her hips immediately found his rhythm.

  They moved together fluidly, Kat gasping and Brodie groaning deep inside his chest. As she felt him quicken, felt his muscles gather beneath her, she locked her legs against his and used the leverage to ride him, to dictate the rhythm. They moved harder, and faster still, his hips pistoning into hers so hard he came half off the bed with each thrust. She gave back to him as fully as she got, matching him stroke for stroke, loving how fully and completely he filled her ... and how well and truly she held him. She kept on until she finally took him over the edge completely, bringing forth from him a guttural shout that shook the bed.

  He’d barely finished pulsing inside of her when she once again found herself on her back. “Tha’ never happens,” he said, still breathing heavily, his skin damp against hers. “I never finish that way, I have to be on top. How did you—” He stopped, laughed shortly, then kissed her soundly on the lips. “I should ha’e known you’d be different. You’ll take from me what ye will.” His face split wide with the devil’s own grin. “And I’ll be happy to give it to you.” He gathered her to him as he slid out of her and shifted them both to their sides. “So,” he said at length, stroking her hair, keeping her cheek pressed to the crook of his shoulder, “I suppose round one goes to the fair maiden.”

  She lifted her head slightly. “Maiden?” she asked dryly. He shot her a wicked smile. “Fair lady, then.” He tucked her head back down. “Now take your victory and don’t gloat on about it.”

  “Like you wouldn’t have.”

  “Och, ye know me too well. I can see where this could present me with a problem or two. I’ll no’ be able to charm my way out of situations of my own making, will I?”

  Kat wriggled closer to him, tangling her legs with his, tucking her ankles as she settled against his body like she’d been born to fit there. “Oh, I suspect ye might be able to con me into forgiving you now and again.”

  He stroked his hand down her back, then pinched her bum. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She pinched his nipple, making him hoot, then propped her chin on his chest. “So,” she said at length, “how do you propose we ...” She drifted off, thinking perhaps now was not the time to question their future, but as it was going to be pretty immediate, she had to ask. “How did you want to ... you know, tell everyone?” She paused for a second. “You do plan to—”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. But I dinnae think ’twill be much of an issue for us.”

  “Why is that?”

  He craned his neck and looked over at the clock on his nightstand. “Marta’s likely to be in the kitchen shortly, if she’s no’ already. I imagine she’s found enough evidence to put two and two together and—”

  Kat sat straight up and went to scramble off the bed. Brodie pulled her right back down again.

  “Do you have a problem with everyone knowing I wanted ye so badly I couldna wait to even get you up the stairs? A legend you’ll be.”

  Kat paused, then laughed somewhat smugly as she snuggled back in his arms. “A legend, you say?” She wrapped her arm around him, tucked her legs back between his, and sighed as he tipped her chin up for a long, lingering kiss.

  “Aye,” she said drowsily some time later. “I can live with that.”

  ON TAP

  Cha
pter 1

  “I’ve no time to spare for her, Silas.” Reese Chisholm strode down the row of white oak casks that housed his family distillery’s aging single-malt whisky. There was a long list of things awaiting his personal attention, and he wasn’t happy about adding yet another to the queue. “I’ve got calls coming in about the new mash tuns and I need to make yet another attempt to track down a new supplier for—”

  Silas silenced him with a clearing of the throat.

  He stopped short and turned to face his floor manager. Reese had taken over the running of the distillery seven years ago, when his grandfather, Finney, had passed. But Reese had worked at Finney’s side since he was old enough to reach a tap. So when the time had come, no one had doubted Reese’s ability to run the place. Despite the fact that Silas had several decades on Reese in both experience and age, the two had long since come to a mutual respect for one another. Which was why Reese took the older man’s quiet rebuke in stride. “What have you done to me now, auld man? My schedule is already fashed and it’s no’ even noon. I’ve no time for chitchat about some mad business scheme with the newcomer in town.” He folded his arms when Silas merely smiled at him. “No matter how comely a lass she might be.”

  Just because Reese, second of the four Chisholm brothers, was still single past the age of thirty—only by a year!—the local elders had taken it upon themselves to throw every available female within a fifty-kilometer radius in his path. And now that Brodie had managed to find love, they’d only redoubled their efforts. He reminded himself to soundly beat his younger brother at billiards the next time they played. Then ignored the niggling thought that it had been far too long since he’d made it down to Hagg’s, the pub Brodie owned and ran, for something as simple as an evening off.

  “Ye work too hard,” Silas told him, as if reading his thoughts. And Reese wasn’t so sure the auld Gael couldn’t. “Ye need to think about more than aging whisky,” he went on. “You’re no’ getting any younger yerself, you know.” Silas’s eyes crinkled at the corners, that wee twinkle of his appearing in their faded blue depths. “She’s a fair sight, that she is. And, well, lad, she’s here. Parked in your office, pretty and fresh as her namesake. Said she’d cleared it through Brodie,” he added when Reese scowled.