That’s such a long time.
“What have you been dealing with?” I hesitate to ask, but dangle the bait out there in hopes he’ll bite. Praying that he will.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he shakes his head, emitting a tired groan. “I cannae talk aboot it.”
Disappointment lances my hope. “Please,” I beg.
“Awe, Mags, dinnae talk like that,” he groans.
“I want to know more, and you already know so much about me. And it’s not like you have anything else you want to do.” I wiggle my butt on his erection, and he growls, frustrated.
“Stop,” he grinds out. “Dinnae do that again.”
I do it again, and his head comes up so fast as his hands seize my waist that I jump at how quick his reflexes are. “Na more.” His fingers dig into my hips, which isn’t good. Isn’t good at all. He might as well be pushing the volume-up button on my sexual desires.
I grasp his hands over my hips. “You can’t do that if you don’t want me to get excited.”
His hands fly off me faster than Aladdin on his magic carpet, and I grumble a complaint, hating the loss of his touch.
Both of his palms scrub his cheeks as he shakes his head, growling, cursing, grumbling, and huffing heatedly under his breath. “Why do ye do this tae me?” he laments miserably to himself.
Uh! I don’t want him to feel this way. I’m just making things worse. I should have continued to relish in his touch, instead of pressing. Why do I have to go and be a big ol’ pain in the behind? Fine. Since I’ve already ruined everything, I might as well finish what I started. . .I’ve stuck my foot it in, anyhow. I’m an idiot.
“Because I care about you. Because I want to be your friend—”
“I cannae be yer friend,” he interrupts.
I throw my hands up in exasperation. “So you say, but won’t explain why. Or tell me what’s so bad about me. Or why it’s such a problem that your dick is always hard around me. Unless your dick is hard all the time, and I’m just the unsuspecting female that gets its attention tonight. Do all women make you hard? Or is it just the slutty, fat ones? Or maybe it’s because I’m drunk? Or broken? Or have a dead boyfriend, who I thought I loved more than life itself. And then I went and got trampled on by some big pole, making some big broody, thighs-for-arms pain in my patootie save my life. The man with eyes I now dream about. A man I didn’t want to be attracted to. A flippin’ man who I tried not to be attracted to, or want to see naked, or dream about what my tongue might feel like running along those stupidly hot abs. Or, oh my god, wonder what maybe his dick looked like under those seriously hot kilts he wears, that I find myself wet thinking about. I don’t get it! I don’t get anything! My life was fine! My life was great, and normal, and sad, and lonely, just how I liked it! Then you!”
Running full speed ahead, I pant for breath and poke him in the chest, hard. “You! You had to come and ruin everything! You brought your daughter into my life. And lemonade. That’s now made me obsessed with it and you! Which is really flippitty frickin’ unhealthy! I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate not knowing what’s wrong with me. Or why I feel weird around you. And I hate sitting here every day worried about what happened in the barn, and if you’re okay. And why you do that. And what I can do to maybe help and fix it. I want to help you.” I poke his chest again.
“As your friend, even if you don’t want to be mine, I want to help you. I want to be there like you were for me. I would be dead. . .dead. . .D.E.A.D if you hadn’t save my life, if you hadn’t cared enough to do all these wonderful, beautiful, and amazing things for me. I want to repay something, any—”
Lachlan seizes my finger that’s stabbing his chest. “Ye make everythin’ better by just breathin’,” he interrupts, meeting my eyes.
Of course, he has to go off and say something like that! Oh my. . . .
With a deep inhale, I can’t freaking help it, I burst into a fit of crazy hormonal girl tears, and he wraps his arms around me. I stuff my nose to his chest and take a shuddering breath, my tears soaking through his shirt.
“Calm down, my leannan,” Lachlan soothes, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
I can’t believe I said all of those things. I can’t believe I let him know how I feel. Why didn’t I just shut up? Why didn’t I just put a cork in it and stop when I knew I should have? But, no, I had to go off and ruin everything by flaunting my feelings. Did I seriously tell him I wonder what his dick looks like under his kilt? Please say no. Please say I didn’t just crucify myself with that blubbering notation.
I hiccup a mortified cry, clutching his vest.
You make everything better by just breathing? Who says stuff like that? I go off on a tangent, and that is his reply. That. That sweet. . .Uh. . .I’m crying even more now.
Lachlan rocks me, cradling me to his chest, as I bawl for what feels like a million years. Tears of anguish and embarrassment flow, and slowly begin to dissipate as I’m run ragged and sleep calls my name.
“I think we need tae go home.” He runs his fingers through my hair and down my back. “Ye need tae sleep.”
I nod, rubbing my nose to his pec. “O—okay,” I blubber.
Curling his arms under my legs, Lachlan uses the wall and his boots to gain traction and lift us both. I hook my arm around his neck, nuzzling my nose to his shoulder, my swollen eyes shielded. I don’t argue when he carries me through the yard where the music is still blaring and the sounds of moans and men doing naughty things bellow in my ears. Lachlan says bye to Whisky, and I raise a hand in farewell without lifting my face to let anyone see how horrible I must look. Mascara is trailing down my cheeks, I know that for sure.
“We’re gonna take my bike, and Whisky’ll get yer car home in the mornin’,” Lachlan explains, and all I do is nod to his shoulder.
Gravel grinds under his boots as we make our way over to his bike and he sets me on it. I spread my own legs to straddle the seat, not caring if my panties show or not, or that I don’t have any shoes on.
Silently, Lachlan sets my helmet on my head and straps it under my chin, before doing the same to himself, mounting the bike and turning it over. “Put yer legs and arms around me.” He taps his thick side. “It’s safer.”
I comply without protest. Scooting forward, my arms wrap around his middle and my legs around his waist, my feet settling right by his crotch. He taps my foot, yelling over the rumble of his bike. “Ye ready?”
I nod to his back and tug on his vest to let him know I’m good to go. And we take off.
By the time we arrive home, I’m practically lulled to sleep. When Lachlan turns off the bike and sets the kickstand, I have to blink rapidly to wake myself enough to get into the house.
“Na ye dinnae. Ye almost fell asleep on me.” He lifts me from the motorcycle like I weigh nothing, and carries me to the front door, which he unlocks with one steady hand before carrying me into my bedroom and setting me on the bed.
Pushing me so my back hits the mattress, Lachlan curls his fingers over the tops of my thigh-highs and rolls them down, plucking them off one-by-one before tossing them on the floor.
“What are you doing?” I rasp.
“Ye need tae get undressed, and ye’re tired so I’m doin’ it,” he explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world. As if I’m not already partially undressed in front of him. He unbuttons my jean skirt, and it, too, joins the thigh-highs on the floor, leaving me in a pair of panties.
He groans, running a finger over my waistband, and I slap my hand over his, forcing him to stop. “These need to stay on or you’re going to see me naked.”
“Aye,” he whispers, shoving my hand away and hooking two fingers into my waistband and tugging my panties down. I lift my hips to help, even though he doesn’t seem to need it.
Coolness prickles my naked pussy, and I cup it with my hands. My heart slams against my chest, and I keep my eyes closed, afraid of what his reaction to me might be. I don’t look like Meredit
h undressed. My body isn’t thin. I’m far from perfect, and my stomach isn’t completely flat. I’m not a supermodel, and he looks like a Highland warrior with all those deep grooves and plains of muscles that most men only dream of having.
Fingers peel my hands off my lady parts, even though I try to hold on. “Lachlan,” I breathe, “It’s almost bare down there.”
“Aye.”
“And you said—”
“I dinnae care what I said, Mags. I wanna see ye. Please.”
Oh my. . .that deep, sexy voice. It’s my undoing. I let my arms fall to the sides as they begin to quiver in succession with my pussy out on display.
I peek at him through heavy eyelids to find him standing next to the bed, staring at my pussy, rubbing his own erection over his kilt. He brushes a knuckle over my mound and my back arches off the bed, my fingers clutching at the sheets. Oh god.
He jerks his knuckle back. “Ye okay, my leannan? Did I hurt ye?”
“No, if you want to touch me, you can. But I want to touch you, too.” I declaw one hand from the sheets and extend my palm, gesturing to his bulge.
He retreats a step, and I frown. “I cannae let ye do that.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice; it hurts that he doesn’t want my hands on him.
“I do. Just not there.” He strokes himself, and I bite my lip at the sight.
“Then lay down beside me, so I can touch you and you can touch me.” I pat the mattress.
“Na. I think it’s time ye get some sleep.” He walks toward the door, and I shoot up in bed.
Screw it. I pull my shirt over my head, unclasp my bra, and toss everything to the floor. Lachlan freezes to watch me with desire-laden eyes.
“Fine.” I lay back on the bed and spread my legs, as I summon a boatload of false confidence to do what I do next. With a sharp inhale, I place my fingers between my pussy lips, spreading them apart for him, and I pinch my nipple. Pleasure courses through me, and I moan under my breath at the delicious sensation.
“Stop,” Lachlan rasps.
“No. You started something, and I am gonna finish it. You can go now.” I shoo him with my hand before returning it to my budded nipple.
“The bloody hell ye are.” Lachlan stalks to the side of the bed and painfully yanks my hand from my pussy. I yelp, but he doesn’t seem to notice when he runs his own finger down my dripping slit and I cry out in delirious ecstasy.
He brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean, and I just about come from watching him. Jesus, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a man do in my entire life.
“Mmmm,” he groans, “ye’re so fuckin’ wet.”
Shit, what in the hell am I supposed tae do now?
Look at my leannan on that bed, writhin’, excited, wantin’ me tae touch her. Why does she even care if I do? How could she have said all those bloody things tae me tonight? Fuck, she poured her heart out and I just sat there tryin’ not tae freak the hell out. Can she really mean everythin’ she rambled on aboot? My thobbin’ cock hopes she does, ‘cause he wants her almost as much as the rest of me does.
Hair fanned on the pillow, her tits hard, her body soft and perfect, all sprawled out for me tae touch and do whatever the bloody hell I want, but I cannae do anythin’. I dunno how.
I touched her pussy and licked her juices off my finger. Damn, that almost made me lose it. But that’s the only thing I can remember from watchin’ my brothers fuck all those lassies these past years. I dinnae have the first clue on how tae please her. I’ve went down on one lassie, one time, in my whole damn life. Never once was it Meredith. She wanted me tae fuck her tae get off and then she was done. Didnae matter if I’d nutted or not.
Ah hell, she’s not gonna want me if she knows I dunno the first thing aboot makin’ her feel good.
Squeezin’ my eyes shut, I grumble and rub the pain that’s stabbin’ me right in the heart.
Bloody hell! What the fuck am I gonna do?
Why is he standing there grunting under his breath as he rubs his chest over and over? Doesn’t he see me here waiting, wanting, and needing him to touch me, to show me that he actually wants me? Since Brian, I’ve never been this exposed to any man, except him. I’m trying here. My confidence is failing and I’m about to cover myself before humiliation sets in.
Damn it, why won’t he look at me? Did I taste bad?
Curling onto my side and tucking my hand under my pillow, I reclose my eyes so I don’t have to watch him leave. I know that’s what he’s going to do. I pushed too much, and should have expected this. Shame unfurls in my gut.
“Mags.” Lachlan touches my leg, sending a shot of pain and pleasure through me. I don’t think I can do this anymore. A woman can only show she’s interested so many times, and be shot down so many times before she just can’t take it anymore. I’m almost to my breaking point.
“Just go,” I whisper, slapping his hand away and stuffing my face in the pillow so he doesn’t see the tears that are threatening to fall.
“I wanna make ye feel good.” He sighs heavily. “I just dunno how.”
I fist the pillow.
Why does he have to sound so broken and insecure? I thought I was that person. Gah, I’m not good at this kind of stuff. I’m trying so hard, and failing at it even harder.
“Mags,” he pleads, touching my leg again and trying to turn me over onto my back in a gentle manner. I let him.
“I’m not good at this, Lachlan,” I admit painfully. “I throw myself at you, and you don’t want me. Am I way off base about you being attracted to me?” I narrow my eyes on his stout thickness.
He sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his short hair, an expression of complete loss marking his stupidly handsome features. He releases a long breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat. My heart cracks a little more, splintering more hope along with it. “I cannae let ye see my cock, Mags. . .because it’s not right.”
“It can’t be that bad,” I return without thinking, and lean up on my elbows to see him better. And to be honest, I couldn’t care less even if it was.
“It is.” He shakes his head, cursing under his breath. “There’s somethin’ wrong with it. Meredith used tae. . .”
“Used to what?”
“Talk aboot it,” he finishes, pain flashing across his face, before dropping his head low, hands cradling his forehead.
That stupid bitch.
“You do know I’m not her, right?” I snap with a little too much resentment.
“I know ye’re not her. Ye’re so much better than she could ever be.”
That mushy feeling returns. How can he be scary and gentle, at the same time he’s broken and strong, and sweet yet cruel? I don’t understand it. He’s a walking contradiction.
“Has any other woman said bad things about it?”
“I’ve only ever been with two other lassies, and they never saw it.”
“And Meredith talked badly about it?” I confirm, as the thought of him being with only three women bounces around in my mind, screwing with me.
I’ve been with at least eleven men. Maybe more. I can’t remember all of their names. I don’t even care to. And here I’m sitting with a man at least ten years my senior who’s spent the past seventeen years with a horrid woman who’s said nasty things about his manhood. What kind of wife does that shit? Here I thought that night she was talking crap to him, it was out of spite. No, she obviously gets off on making him feel like lesser of a man. When he’s more of a man than most.
He bobs his head in his hands. “Aye.”
Taking a deep breath, I just let it flow. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want to see it, even if there is something wrong with him. Frankly, Lachlan, I don’t give a damn if you have two heads and one nut that looks like Frankenstein. . .But, I’ll respect that about you and not push you to let me see or touch it, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“Thank ye,
” he mumbles.
This has totally killed my sex drive. Thinking about Meredith could do that to anyone.
“Why don’t you go put on your sweats or some shorts and come to bed?” I pat the spot beside me. “I’m tired. I’ve been a complete wreck tonight, and you’re going through something in your head that needs to rest.”
Lachlan stands, his eyes cast on the side of the bed that I just patted, before they swap to me, landing straight on my hard nipples. “Ye have tae put a shirt on.” His eyes rake lower, heating, and he nibbles his bottom lip. A shiver crashes through me. “And ye gotta put some panties back on.”
“If you sleep next to me, I’ll wear a flippin’ parka. Now go get dressed.” I shoo him with a tiny smile, and he grins back, sadly, before exiting my room.
Quickly, I make work of picking up the mess on the floor and slipping on a t-shirt and another pair of panties. Then crawl back into bed just as he saunters in wearing his black track shorts and nothing else. I’m unable to control it when my mouth starts to water and my eyes glue to his chest, and the hair that I’ve been intimately acquainted with. My eyes slowly roam down his body to his V, and I try not to moan. I still can’t believe he’s going to sleep in bed with me!
“Ye have tae stop lookin’ at me like that, my leannan, or I’m not gonna get any sleep.” He groans, readjusting his shorts.
Mmmmm. . .
Lachlan climbs into bed next to me, and I lie on my side, facing him. He does the same after flicking off the light so we’re submerged into near darkness with nothing but the moon’s soft glow casting shadows around the room.
Sweetly, he reaches over and takes my hand into his, and I swear I feel my heart expand bigger than I’ve ever felt before. Stuffing my face into my pillow, I smile hugely, then turn back to him as he scoots closer, grabbing my leg and hooking it over his muscled hip. Another shiver rocks through me, and my pussy clenches.
Beyond Her Words (Corrupt Chaos MC) Page 31