“What’s her name?”
Milly shook her head at him, totally bemused. “Why do you want to know?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t I want to meet a friend of yours, Milly Mouse? Especially if she’s as quality as you.”
“Don’t call her that.”
Both she and Magnus turned to find Iain standing inside the open doorway of his office, glaring at his brother.
“What? Milly Mouse? You’ve a problem with my little pet name now?” Magnus asked.
His tone sounded light and jokey, but the way he turned his large body toward Iain…well to Milly it looked like the two brothers weren’t just facing each other, but squaring off.
As if to confirm this impression, Iain rolled his neck and threw back his shoulders, taking a hard step forward as he said, “Millicent doesn’t like being referred to in that manner, Rí Faoil. So you’ll stop doing so this instant.”
Magnus’s perma-smirk dug in even deeper. “I see. Not only did you extend this outsider an invitation to our village, you’re of a mind to command me now?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Milly’s eyes ping-ponged between the two brothers. Even though Iain was a tech billionaire who had to make at least ten times what Magnus did playing rugby, Magnus was looking down his nose at his brother. As if Iain had crossed an invisible line of protocol…one Milly couldn’t see.
But if Iain registered a threat, his cold, blank expression didn’t show it. “In this matter, yes. You’ll refer to her as Milly as she prefers, or you won’t refer to her at all.”
At this, Magnus took a step forward, like he was gearing up to take a swing at his younger brother.
But then their father, who Milly had almost forgotten was in the room with them, stood and spoke to the two men. First Magnus, then Iain in a string of Gaelic of which Milly understood not one word. But the two brothers must have understood every syllable. Because after a tense moment of silence during which the men dead-eyed each other over their father’s stern gaze, they stepped back. In a way that made it clear they’d both been commanded to do so.
Strange, Magnus usually acted like he was in control of everything, but when affable Mr. Scotswolf stood and spoke in his low, quiet voice, both his sons had listened. Milly eyed Mr. Scotswolf in a new light, feeling—not for the first time—that there was something oddly formal, even hierarchical, about their family dynamic…something she wasn’t quite getting.
Another tense moment of silence passed. Then Magnus suddenly swung his smirk back to her. “I’ve a feeling we’ll be seeing more of you in Faoltiarn, Milly.” He over pronounced the two syllables of her name to the point that it felt like a mockery. But those exaggerated syllables didn’t come with a “mouse” attached. So she’d take it.
“Until then…” Magnus nodded at her, walking out without a further word to his brother or father. Like a king who expected his subjects to follow.
Which they did.
But Iain paused at her desk. “The Edmunson pitch is up to standard. Send it on.”
Both his tone and expression were all business. As if he hadn’t just stood up to his super-imposing brother on her behalf.
“Oh—okay. Will do—” Milly started to answer, only to break off when Iain headed out the sliding glass door. Which left her alone in his outer office, struggling to figure out what had just happened. And why it felt so significant.
While Iain and Magnus spent their lunch hour at one of the poshest restaurants in Edinburgh, Milly spent hers getting several vials of blood drawn from an efficient nurse before she met with Dr. Keller to discuss next steps.
She listened politely as he talked about “making her comfortable” and how she should get her affairs in order and perhaps start meeting with an end-of-life counselor.
But when he asked if she had any questions, Milly nodded and said, “How long can I go without doing any of this?”
“Any of this?” the doctor repeated with a look of confusion on his face.
“You know…the bloodwork, the check-ins. The ‘comfort’ measures.” She made air quotes around the word comfort since she and the doctor both knew it was merely a euphemism for keeping her so drugged up she didn’t mind or register her life coming to an end. “I’d like to travel to New Zealand. And then go places and see things and…” she trailed off, deciding it probably wasn’t appropriate to list “finally have sex” among her bucket list goals.
Instead, she finished with, “The only drug I want right now is something to treat cancer-related fatigue so I can keep going until I can’t anymore.”
The doctor tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, in that case…”
A short while later, Milly walked out of the doctor’s office with a low dose starter cocktail of a new narcolepsy drug, an anti-depressant, and a medication usually prescribed for people with ADHD. Turns out there wasn’t one cure-all drug for cancer-related fatigue so she’d need to experiment with a few “cocktails” until they got the recipe right.
“See how you do with side effects, and we’ll revisit in a week,” Dr. Keller told her.
Milly took what she could get. She bought a Vimto fruit soda, at the first Doner Kebab stand she came across and swigged the three pills down without a second thought.
Her step had already begun to feel a little lighter, she thought to herself as she made her way back into the AlgoFortune offices a few minutes later. And maybe her luck was changing because Iain’s door was open when she returned to the square fishbowl. Which meant he’d already left for his meeting with the GUI team. So she didn’t have to look at his handsome but insanely inconsiderate face as she went about the rest of her afternoon.
As usual, Milly had plenty to do—the typical day-to-day stuff, plus Iain had sent her several AlgoFortune 3.0. related assignments: coordinating the teams that would have to come together to make a new product launch possible, sending the finalized “new upgrades” list over to PR, and several other tasks that kept her busy well pass her usual three o’clock quitting time. Not to mention, she’d sent Linda in HR the job description for her position two days ago, and there were already nearly 100 resumes for her to look over.
She soon became engrossed in her work, barely murmuring a hello when Iain walked past her desk and into his office, closing the door behind him. The good news was that the drugs seemed to be giving her a much needed extra boost. Milly easily stayed on task without having to battle the usual end-of-day fatigue.
The bad news? She’d developed a mild headache by 3:00 P.M. Her fellow co-workers had already begun scurrying out of the office, taking advantage of Iain’s closed door to start their long weekend early. With the headache radiating in the back of her head, she thought about heading out, too. But then instead of IM’ing Iain to say she was leaving for the day, she decided to push through. Milly was determined to review the first wave of resumes, even if it took hours—which it did.
Milly was mildly amused at just how many people had applied for a job that had seemed so onerous to her. She’d only made it through, like, fifteen minutes of that Steve Jobs movie directed by Danny Boyle, because it had been too triggering. But it was becoming apparent to her that there were a lot of people out there who were eager for the opportunity to assist a notoriously difficult financial software genius.
Despite the high number of applications, it was a hard cull. And in the end, only six of the applicants were up to Iain’s standards—which after three years, Milly had nearly memorized. So she got the job done, but it took a while. By the time she sent those six resumes on, Linda in HR along with the rest of the office had already knocked off for the long weekend. That, and given the fact that it was dark outside, meant it had to be well past 9:00 P.M.
Yet she could still hear Iain click-clacking away in his office. The guy was a beast when it came to his work. However, Milly was more than ready to throw in the towel for today.
But Milly’s headache had gone from mild to booming, blurring her vision so she had t
o yank off her glasses along with her headband and hair tie to relieve all the pressure points on her head.
It worked. The headache immediately began to subside. But soon after, her body became suffused in a heat so volcanic, she could feel herself visibly sweating. Not only that, but her skin had begun to tingle with an all-over ache. Crap! Fever and body aches could only mean one thing: she was sick. And no doubt it was leukemia related. As she’d discovered during her first tango with the L-word, it came with all sorts of lovely and debilitating types of pneumonia and infections…
So there would be no taking the train home today. Milly sent Iain an IM to let him know she was heading out. And as she slowly rose from her chair, she decided to use some of her precious travel funds for a Lyft—
She immediately fell back into her chair, her legs suddenly too weak to stand. What the…? Milly’s entire body had been taken over by a tingling ache that had completely debilitated her.
This sickness was different than before, she realized. The fever and body aches had gone from bad to unbearable in a matter of seconds. Milly stripped today’s purple cardigan off, hoping to cool down. But that hardly made a dent in her discomfort. Her silk blouse felt like chain mail on her feverish skin. In a fit of sheer desperation, she took her blouse off, too. Then her pencil skirt. But even her remaining cotton camisole and panties felt like too much in the burning heat of this fever.
Her entire body tingling, Milly ended up tugging off her underwear. The part of her brain that wasn’t completely in thrall to the fever was deeply distressed that she’d removed her clothing with her boss only a few feet away on the other side of a closed door. Her actions were shocking and highly inappropriate. But it was all she could do. Because Milly honestly felt like she’d die right there in her swivel chair if she didn’t get out of her restrictive clothes immediately.
And that was when things took a turn for the truly bizarre. As soon as she removed her underpants, a strange, acrid smell hit the room. It was an odor unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Sharp and pungent and completely overpowering.
As soon as it arrived, it was as if there was nothing else in the room. All she could feel, see, hear, or smell was the strong scent. Curious but not necessarily unpleasant. Actually, she sniffed hard, not unpleasant at all. Her nostrils flared in and out, taking more of it in on some primal instinct. And then she was assaulted by a new sensation…
One she’d almost never had outside her bedroom when she felt lonely in her sad 25-year-old virgin bed. Milly looked down slowly to find her sex visibly clenching in and out. Like an animal gasping for air.
Oh, God, what was happening to her?!?
Before she could even register what she was seeing, her hand reached down seemingly of its own accord to touch her wildly clenching sex. She was soaking wet. Like, wetter than she’d ever been in her life. To the point that she could actually feel the hot sticky arousal on her vaginal mound. She started rubbing herself, first in slow circles, then in hard, desperate plunges. But her ministrations brought no relief, in fact, they only seemed to make things worse. The neatly trimmed curls atop her sex now glistened with her arousal. It was as if the more she touched herself, the more her core wept.
Not enough…the words dropped into her head with an ominous thunk. Your touch isn’t enough—
A door clicked in the distance, and suddenly the sound came back on in the room.
Then Iain…oh God, her boss, Iain appeared in his office doorway. Her boss. Gray eyes wide with shock, his sensitive nose flared so wide, Milly knew he could easily smell the strange scent she was emitting.
Milly’s heart froze at the sight of him watching her desperately try to get herself off.
But her hand didn’t stop. Not even for a second. In fact, it moved faster under Iain’s shocked gaze, as if her body now had a mind of its own.
“I’m sorry,” she all but sobbed, trying her best to choke out some kind of explanation. “Taking new meds…side effects…can’t stop—oh!”
Milly broke off with a cry when another wave of that strange smell suddenly filled up the room, overtaking her words. Overtaking her mind.
Him! Him! It’s him! Need him! a feral voice said inside her…head? No, it seemed to come from someplace deeper. Like a base part of her. That was now begging, not just for relief from this all-consuming need, but for a very specific relief.
Iain!!! the feral voice keened. And that was when she figured it out.
The voice inside her head didn’t just want to get off. It wanted someone else to get her off. And that someone was her boss. The guy currently white knuckling the doorknob as if the sight of his assistant engaged in such inappropriate behavior had him struggling to stay on his feet.
But then something worse than him finding her like this happened.
He started to back away…
No! No! Don’t let him go! the feral voice inside her screamed.
But it was too late. SLAM! Iain disappeared into his office. As if he was running away, or trying to hide from the wild woman in his outer office.
Oh crap, oh crap! Her mind shorted out for a second, not knowing what to do.
But apparently, the voice inside her knew exactly what it wanted.
Her body no longer felt weak. Just determined. And on suddenly strong legs, she propelled herself across the room, coming to stand outside his door as she had nearly every weekday morning since she’d been hired three years ago.
Except this time she was naked. And intent on one thing.
Her boss.
“Iain,” she moaned, her body releasing yet another wave of the extremely strong but not at all foul odor. At least to her.
Iain, however, sounded like he was choking on the other side of the door as he said, “Don’t, Millicent. Don’t come in here. I can’t be responsible for what I do if you come in here.”
“Iain, please…” she begged, wishing she had the strength to kick open the door. It felt like her entire body was on fire, every nerve intent on one goal. One person. “Iain, I…I need you to…”
“You must find a way to call your flatmate, Millicent. Tell her you don’t feel well and ask her to bring something to sedate you with.”
“What?” she asked, voice cracking with incredulity because being sedated by her female roommate was the exact opposite of what she wanted right now—the opposite of what she needed. “No, I don’t want that…I want you. Please, I hurt so bad Iain…I need you.”
He must have been right on the other side of the door, because she could hear him inhale sharply as if her plea had stabbed him, causing him pain. And it sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth when he said, “Tell her to sedate you… please, Millicent. You’re not in control of yourself.”
No, she wasn’t.
And, it felt like somebody else, not sensible little Milly Odoom saying, “No, I won’t do it. I’ll sit right here until you fuck me.”
Another sharp breath, then several short ones, as if he was working hard to stay in control on the other side of the door. “Millicent, please.”
“No,” she answered viciously. “I won’t call her. I won’t go. I want you, Iain. I need you. And I don’t care how bad it sounds. Can you please have sex with me. Please?”
Silence. Then he bit out the words: “Call. Your. Flatmate.”
Oh God, oh God, that was exactly what she should do. She knew she should be taking his advice instead of standing outside the door. Begging him to take her.
Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from trying again.
“Please, Iain, I know I’m, like, this awkward virgin. And nowhere near as pretty as the girls you like to date.” Tears slid down her cheeks, as she rested her hot forehead against the cool door’s wood. “But I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t have you inside of me. Please—”
She broke off. Not because of how bad she was embarrassing herself with her desperate pleas, but because the door suddenly flung open. And there stood Iain, on the ot
her side of it. Breathing hard.
“Is that what you think?” he bit out. “That I’m saying no because I dinna fancy you? You’re honestly thinking I put you on the other side of that door because you’re not pretty enough…sexy enough?”
He sounded gravely insulted, like her plea for him to lower his standards had somehow impugned his core character.
“I…I don’t know,” she started to say—
The next thing she knew, Iain was on her side of the door. Sweeping her naked body up in his arms and carrying her across the room.
What felt like less than a second later, she was deposited on the couch meant for clients with Iain biting out the words, “Knees. Now,” above her.
But his hands were on her before she could even process the command. Flipping her onto her stomach, then pulling her hips up hard. She felt but could not see Iain settle in behind her. His kilt brushing the back of her naked thighs as he said, “I will show you how much I don’t fancy you, chridhe.” His kilt lifted, covering her backside, and the next thing she felt was the tip of him at her entrance.
As hot as she’d been for him just a few moments ago, her back stiffened, her heart seizing up with fear. Because this was happening. Finally. Exactly what she’d asked him for.
The new, feral voice inside her was ecstatic. But the scared mouse she’d always been seized up with the recollection that she’d never actually done this before.
“Relax, chridhe…” One of Iain’s hands found the back of her neck, massaging it with his thumb. “I’m half out of my mind for you, but I’ve no plans to hurt you. Trust me, Millicent.”
His words and the thumb at the back of her neck soothed her. Loosened her muscles, until she became pliant again.
But as soon as she did, the hand at her neck went hard, arm locking in place. And that was all the warning she got. Iain pushed his full length into her, thick, long, and so hard that any and all doubts about whether he found her attractive enough to bear having sex with her were immediately pushed from her head.
She screamed. But not in pain. The wild thing inside her was so insanely relieved to finally have Iain in her, that the loss of her hymen felt like nothing more than a small bandage being pulled off skin.
Her Scotttish King_Loving World Page 20