Adam walked in, set the pot and two teacups on the small table, and sank into the couch next to Amelia. She shivered slightly at the feeling of him next to her, the closeness of him making her feel butterflies start in her stomach. He glanced at her. “Cold?”
“No,” she whispered. “Not at all.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then turned to pour a cup of tea. Amelia noticed the chocolate roll on the platter next to the tea, and her eyes widened slightly. “You know how to make that?”
Adam grinned. “My mom taught me not long before…” he cleared his throat. “She taught me how to make it. I was sort of a stubborn teenager and insisted that it was a girl’s thing to do. She said men could bake just as well as women, and anyway, our father hadn’t seen fit to give her a daughter, so I could bloody well stay in the kitchen and learn to bake.” His voice wavered for a second, thickening with emotion, and then he cleared his throat. “Anyway. It’s not all that hard, really.”
He cut a slice of chocolate roll, placed it on a delicate china plate and handed it to her. Amelia knew without asking that the china belonged to his mother. She wanted to ask questions, but something about the way he spoke when he did talk about her told Amelia that it was a painful topic. She knew his parents were dead, but she didn’t know what had happened to them. The mood in the room was cozy and peaceful, and she didn’t want to break it by bringing up awkward topics. It seemed Ironic that the man she’d been with for the last four years had been ruled by his mother, while this one could hardly stand to talk about his.
She took a bite of the chocolate roll. The cake was soft and moist, the filling light and creamy, and she’d never had a better dessert in her life, she was sure. The soft lavender flavors in the tea complemented it perfectly. She took a deep breath, drawing in the heady mixture of aromas. In that moment, Amelia could think of nothing she wanted more than to stay where she was, forever.
She set her plate down on the table and leaned forward to pour another cup of tea. She felt Adam’s fingers, suddenly, reaching to brush along the nape of her neck, playing lightly with her hair. Her breath caught in her throat, her skin prickling under his touch. It was feather-light, so soft, and she felt a rush of warmth, her heart speeding up in her chest.
It felt so different from that first night in her cottage. She’d been so unsure then, and then there was the storm howling outside on that night, as if it were screaming at her to go away. Not tonight. It was quiet out tonight, perfectly silent, and she turned her head towards Adam, leaving her cup where she’d set it down, the only sound in the room the crackle of the fire.
His hand stroked down her cheek, his thumb tracing the edge of her lower lip, and she parted them slightly. Feeling suddenly bold, she licked the tip of his thumb, just a touch, her eyes flicking up at him mischievously, and she heard his soft intake of breath. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. “We’ve only just met, and you’re getting under my skin.”
“Do you mind?” she murmured, leaning closer.
He took a deeper breath, and for a moment she thought he might say yes, that he didn’t want this at all. Then his fingers on her chin tightened, just slightly, and she turned her body towards him, as if he were a magnet pulling her in. His mouth came down on hers, his arm going around her waist to pull her closer.
She was half in his lap, her fingers going into his hair, her mouth pressing against his as he kissed her. She felt him breathe in, his hand tightening on her waist, and she swung one leg over him to straddle him, not caring anymore if she was moving too fast. She wanted him.
She could feel him just beneath her, hard and thick, pressing against her through her jeans, and she couldn’t help but wiggle her hips a little, rocking against him, and he moaned against her mouth. He grasped her waist and pushed her down, grinding against her, and Amelia gasped. He groaned, his tongue licking along the edges of her lips, plunging into her mouth, as if she were something he might eat. He tasted of chocolate. Amelia reached for his hand, pulling it up to her breast, pressing herself against him. She wanted him desperately, had wanted him again since that first night they’d spent together, and now that he was willing, she could barely keep herself from stripping off their clothes then and there. She wanted to feel him again, the weight of him atop her, the hard, pulsing thickness of him between her legs. She felt his hand tighten around her breast, felt his other hand slip down to her ass, holding her between his palms as she rocked against him, wishing desperately that the layers of denim between them were gone so she could feel him, skin to skin.
He pushed her back onto the couch, his hands hard on her waist, his hair falling down around his face as he leaned over her, grabbing one leg and hooking it around his hip as he pressed against her. He looked down at her, panting beneath him, her eyes wide with lust, and he blinked, slowly, as if he were coming out of a fog.
He sat back, hands running through his hair, pushing it back away from his face as he took a long, slow, deep breath. “We can’t do this, Amelia.”
She stared at him, hardly able to think. “Adam…”
He shook his head. “I can’t do this,” he corrected himself. “I just can’t, Amelia.”
She sat up, the moment fading away, leaving her aching and hollow. “Adam…” she said again, but she could think of nothing else to add.
“You’re going to leave,” he said, looking away from her. “You’re only here for a little longer, and then you’re going back to your life in Chicago. With what I feel for you, Amelia, how badly I want you, a few nights with you won’t be enough. I’ll want you more and more, and you’ll leave.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not blaming you for that, not at all. But I can’t get any deeper into this, and then watch you leave. It’ll just be too much to bear.”
He stood up, and Amelia watched, aching to reach out and touch him. “I’m sorry, Amelia,” he said gruffly. He pressed his lips together, looking away from her for a moment. “Thank you for spending Christmas evening with me. I think I’m going to head to bed. The guest room is just down the hall. It's made up.” He paused, then leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “I just can’t, Amelia,” he whispered again, his voice thickening, and then he straightened, his face blank. “I'm so sorry. Good night.”
“Good night,” Amelia murmured, watching him turn and walk towards his bedroom.
Chapter 11
She sat by the fire for a while sipping at her tea. The chocolate roll remained untouched. When the fire had burned down to a low crackle, the embers glowing softly, she carried the tray into the kitchen. She washed the dishes quietly and set them aside to dry. It felt oddly comforting, standing in the quiet, dimly lit kitchen, washing the crumbs from the plates. She only wished that Adam was waiting for her to join him in bed.
Amelia laid the last dish on the rack, and tiptoed down the hall, pushing the guest bedroom door open slowly so it wouldn’t creak. Shivering, she shed her clothes quickly, and climbed into bed in her tank top and panties, pulling the mound of quilts over her. She curled up, and waited for her body heat to break the chill.
The one thing she wanted to happen now was the door to creak open and Adam to come walking in. She imagined him crawling into bed, curving his long, muscled frame around her, his arm reaching over her waist and pulling her close to him. Almost unconsciously, her hand wandered slowly down her chest, over the warm flat of her stomach, while imagining that it was his broad palm sliding down her abdomen, his long fingers slipping under the lacy edge of her panties and finding how warm and wet she still was. He’d slide his finger slowly between her lips, pressing into her from behind, so that she could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her, but he’d wait, until she’d had her pleasure first. She arched her back, imagining how the tip of his finger would caress her, rubbing slowly at first, so that she’d writhe against him, trapped between his hand and his cock, all that hot, thick hardness waiting for her. And then he’d stroke her faster, harder, his breath wa
rm against her ear, his lips on the back of her neck, sliding down her shoulder. She’d press against him, aching for him to fill her up, and he’d whisper “Not yet,” the tip of his finger making fast, hot circles that were driving her mad. “Not until you come for me,” he’d whisper, and she’d gasp and moan aloud, her hips bucking as she did just that, and just before the last flutter of it passed through her body, he’d roll her over and drive all of his hard, thick cock inside of her.
Amelia pressed her face into the pillow, stifling the moan that escaped her lips as she bucked against her hand, her body stiffening and trembling as she pictured Adam above her, and then a moment later it was over, and she lay crumpled on the mattress, gasping into her pillow, the fantasy dissolving along with the last tremors of her orgasm.
She woke the next morning feeling hungover, despite not having had anything to drink the night before. She rolled out of bed, pulled on her jeans and sweater, and walked out into the kitchen. Adam was standing at the stove, frying up breakfast.
“I’ll just be going then?” the statement sounding more like a question.
Adam looked up from the stove. “Stay for breakfast, I’ve made plenty.”
Amelia bit her lip. He smelled of woodsmoke and the barn, and a flash of her fantasy from the night before sprang into her head and she shivered. “No,” she said, finally. “I think I need to be getting back.”
He looked for a moment as if he’d come over to her, perhaps for a hug, but he didn’t. “Thank you for yesterday,” he said. “It was a good impromptu Christmas.”
Amelia smiled, a bit weakly. “Yes, it was,” she said, and she meant it. She wanted to touch him, even just for a hug, but she felt the barrier between them as if it were a solid thing. “I’ll see you around,” she said finally. “I’ll pop into the pub for dinner sometime soon.”
“You do that.” His smile was stressed, and Amelia felt a heaviness in her chest as she turned away, reaching for her jacket and boots. She thought for a moment she might cry, and she felt foolish. She’d hardly known him any time at all. But she missed him already, and she hadn’t even left the house.
The walk back to her cottage was bitter cold, but the slight wind helped clear her head. She looked up at the heavy grey sky as she trudged down the path, pulling her hood around her ears. It was Adam’s loss, right, if he didn’t want to be with her? So what if she was leaving in a few weeks? There were plenty of nights between now and then, nights that they could have spent together. They would at least have the memories.
He was falling in love with her, or at least developing very strong feelings, and that made her feel a pang of regret and a sense of relief all at once. She wondered what it would be like to have a man like that in love with her, a man who clearly devoted himself to whomever, or whatever, it was that he’d committed to. It would certainly be a change from David's selfish approach. But she was relieved, too. The thought of falling in love was frightening. It was too much to deal with now.
If she was being honest with herself, she was beginning to care about Adam, too, in a way that felt like it could become more than just friendship. Maybe he was right not to let things go further. There was no future for them after all.
She flicked the light switch as she walked into the kitchen, and the bulb sputtered to life, blinking at her as it always did, as if it was ready to give up the ghost.
The house was frigid, and she quickly built up the fire.
A few minutes later, she was sitting in front of the fireplace rubbing her hands together. It had warmed up just enough for her to shed her parka. The fire was crackling and flames were leaping in earnest now, and she let out a long breath, feeling as if she could relax a bit. It still made her nervous, to be out here alone with only a fire to keep her warm and the thought of not being able to start it for any reason made her nervous.
Amelia thought ahead to the weeks she had left. She had plenty of work to occupy her time, and if Adam had decided he didn’t want to spend any of that with her, well, that was that. In fact, she decided she would go to the pub tomorrow night for dinner and a beer. He’d see that she was fine with the way things were. She’d come here to do a job, not to fall in love.
The next evening, flashlight in hand, she set off for the pub. Adam was not in the bar area when she walked in. There was a man sitting at a corner table she hadn’t seen before. She glanced at him as she settled into a chair beneath the pub's only window. He was engrossed in a book. Amelia noted his cropped red hair, blue eyes and strikingly handsome face. She pulled out her laptop quickly, not wanting to get caught staring.
A minute later, Adam was at the table, making an obvious effort to appear blasé regarding her presence. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, and Amelia looked up at him, her spirits dropping when she realized he was going to act as if nothing had happened between them.
“Um…yeah,” she said, scrambling to collect her thoughts. “I’ll have a beer, whatever it was I liked the last time. And some fish and chips.”
“Coming right up,” Adam said, his tone neutral. “Good to see you by the way,” he added, as he walked away.
Amelia bit her lower lip. She glanced across the room, and saw that the man was looking up from his book, and directly at her. He caught her eye, and smiled.
Her heart jumped. He was handsome. He had a more delicate face than Adam, lean, with a sharp jawline and very bright blue eyes. His hair fell in his face again, and he brushed it away and smiled at her again. Amelia hurriedly looked down at her laptop, feeling a little flushed.
Moments later, Adam stopped by the table and set down her beer. “It’s on the guy over there,” he said, gesturing to the redhead. “Callum.” His voice had an odd lilt to it, his accent thicker than normal, and Amelia looked up at him. His face was impossible to read. Was he jealous?
“Um, okay,” she said. She opened her mouth to say something else, although she was not quite sure what. Adam approached Callum’s table and said something, too quiet for her to hear. She saw that Callum’s lips were pressed tightly together and that he was intentionally speaking without moving them. Amelia could have sworn that Adam’s shoulders stiffened. The conversation continued for a few more seconds, and then Adam turned away, walking back to the bar, his back to Amelia. She sneaked a glance at Callum. He was now engrossed in his book and was no longer smiling.
She wondered what they had talked about but by the time her food arrived she was fully into her work. She had told herself it was none of her business but she couldn’t help wondering. Adam had seemed terse with him. It reminded her uncomfortably of how he’d been Christmas night, when he’d pulled away from her.
She was finishing up her fish and chips when she glanced up and saw Callum walking over to her. “May I?” he asked, gesturing at an empty chair.
“Um, sure,” she said, feeling her face start to color. “Uh…thanks for the beer. You didn’t have to do that.”
“What, buy a pretty girl a drink?” He winked at her, and Amelia gulped. “You're a rare breed, out here. I couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.” He held out a hand. “I’m Callum.”
“Yes, Adam mentioned that,” she said, and then immediately realized it probably hadn’t been the best idea to bring up Adam. “I’m Amelia,” she said hurriedly, shaking his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Callum.” There was something about this stranger that was irresistible.
“So, what brings you to Scotland?” he asked. “You’re obviously not from around these parts.”
Amelia shook her head. “Chicago. I’m here doing research on small agriculture economics.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”
“What about you? Are you from here?”
He nodded. “Originally. I don’t live here anymore, but I’m back to visit my family. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.” He tapped the edge of her nearly empty beer glass. “You’re all out. I’ll grab you another.”
“You don’t have to,” Amelia s
aid, but he was already up, walking towards the bar. She could see Adam’s face this time, and he was pissed. The idea that he might be jealous made her happy and that surprised her a little. One thing was for sure, Adam didn’t like that Callum was flirting with her.
Frankly, she didn’t care. He’d had his chance. She wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to talk to—and maybe flirt a little—with a handsome stranger just because it made Adam jealous. Let him be jealous. He was the one who’d shut their fling down, after all.
Callum came back to the table, still smiling. If Adam’s attitude was affecting him, he wasn’t showing it at all. “So how long are you in town for?” he asked.
“A few more weeks. I still have some data to collect, and writing to do. I’ll finish up some of the report once I’m back home, but I need to do a good bit of it here, in case anything needs to be changed. Not exactly easy to just hop over if I miss something.”
Callum laughed. “I can see how that might be a problem.”
“Not exactly a quick road trip.”
Amelia glanced down at her beer, running a finger along the condensation sliding down the glass. She could feel Adam’s eyes on her from the bar and she felt suddenly uncomfortable. She was very attracted to Callum, and she could tell that the feeling was mutual. She wanted to flirt back, but Adam’s disapproving stare made her feel as if she was doing something wrong, even though she wasn’t. This was no longer fun.
“Sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “I really need to get home. I have an early wakeup in the morning.”
Three if by Sea: MMF Bisexual Romance Page 7