Enticing the Weary Warrior

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “I don’t deserve you, Megan.”

  “Probably not,” she replied with a saucy grin. At that moment, her stomach growled loudly.

  “You pick up this mess, and I’ll see if I can get us a tray of food. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like being around anyone, including servants.”

  “Neither do I, but why should I pick up the mess?” She queried, hands on hips.

  “That’s easy, sweetheart, you made it.” He slipped through the door just as a boot whizzed through the air and landed with a thud against the solid wood surface before sliding to the floor.

  Megan stood amid the scattered clothes she had thrown at Liam earlier. A weepy smile spread across her face as she took in the mess around her. Somehow she had talked him into staying. Into giving them a chance. Right now she felt she was the luckiest woman in the world.

  When Liam returned a short time later with a tray laden with food, Megan jumped as he entered the room.

  “Guilty of something?” he teased, placing the tray on a low table and arranging the chairs.

  “No,” she defended herself.

  “Well, at least most of the clothes are back in the wardrobe.”

  “Aye,” she agreed.

  “Come eat,” he indicated that she should join him. As they lingered over their meal, they spoke of the upcoming races and the title and lands he had been awarded. Neither one of them brought back up the past. They had said what they were going to say about it and that was enough for each of them at the moment. Once the meal was finished, Liam stood and stretched. “I’ll take this down to the kitchen before I retire for the night,” he bent to pick up the tray containing nothing but empty dishes.

  “Leave it,” Megan said. “I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

  “Good night, then.” He turned to leave her for the night.

  Megan reached out and caught his hand before he was out of reach. “Where are you going?”

  He looked down at her, curled up in the chair, looking like an innocent and seductress all at the same time. “Meg,” he groaned in misery, “please, don’t make this harder than it already is. I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

  “You mean you aren’t staying the night with me?”

  “It wouldn’t be wise. The nightmares I suffer from… You remember what happened. I become trapped in them. I can’t…”

  “I remember,” she said calmly, “and I don’t care. The storm spurred your nightmare last time. For once, it’s a cloudless night, the moon is bright, and the stars are twinkling like jewels in the sky.”

  “I can’t…” he said again, but could feel himself weakening and his body responding. He watched her get to her feet, never once letting go of his hand. Had she meant for her tongue to dart out seductively like that, or had it been accidental? Somehow he remained where he stood as she approached instead of taking a step back, instead of turning around and fleeing.

  “Liam.” Her voice dropped to a husky level that caused sensual tremors to race up and down his spine.

  “Yes?” He somehow managed the one syllable word. His palms were sweaty, his lips were dry, and the room felt as if there were a roaring fireplace on every wall.

  “We’re married. You’re my husband. We’ll face our nightmares together as we rejoice in our triumphs together. Do you ken?”

  “Aye,” he answered, falling back into using Scottish for the first time in years.

  “Stay with me. In this room. In that bed.”

  “I don’t know—” He felt her strong, yet delicate fingers over his lips halting his response.

  “All I want is to fall asleep in your arms every night and wake up in them every morning. One step at a time, Liam. That’s all I’m asking.”

  He expelled a sigh. “Then God help us both, because that’s what I want as well.” He cupped her neck and pulled her close so that he could ravage her sweet-tasting mouth. Memories swarmed him, and he became lost in the moment. It took several seconds for him to realize that Megan was pulling away from him. “What is it?”

  She attempted to stifle a yawn, but was unable to. “I’m sorry,” she began.

  “Am I that boring?” Liam asked, a teasing note in his voice.

  “Anything but; however, I’m exhausted. After working with Legend all day and then our conversation, I just need sleep. I need to let all that we’ve talked about sink in. I hope you understand.”

  “It was a lot to take in.”

  “Yes.” She went around the room extinguishing the lights. Megan slipped off the robe she had on, revealing that she wore only a chemise, and then crawled into bed. “Are you going to join me?” Megan asked Liam when he remained standing there.

  “Umm, yes.”

  Megan turned to face the wall to give him privacy as he stripped. She felt nervous as she wondered how they would rub along. The bed dipped as he climbed in and laid back. A shiver chased up her spine as he fanned the covers, pulling them over him. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, even though a wide chasm separated them. Slowly, she worked through each set of muscles and forced them to relax. She ordered her mind to shut down, to quit thinking, to let her sleep, but it failed to listen to her. Finally, she resorted to the mundane task of counting. She eventually drifted off after reaching one thousand.

  * * *

  Liam finally allowed his body to relax after Megan fell asleep. He could tell she had finally succumbed to sleep by the change of her breathing and the way the tension seemed to evaporate from her body. He stared at the ceiling, arms behind his head, silently interrogating himself. Why in bloody hell did I let her talk me into this? Why did I agree? Because you want to be close to her, he taunted himself. Because you enjoy torturing yourself, his conscience accused. Because you want to be normal once more.

  Suddenly Megan shifted and turned towards him. He held his breath, praying she would stop, that she wouldn’t touch him. It looked as if God was busy with other people’s prayers at the moment, because Meg continued rolling until her body pressed against his. Her head lay on his chest as if he were her pillow, and her left arm rested across his abdomen. She had pulled her left leg up at an angle, and it was now situated against his. To make matters worse, her chemise had shimmied up, and they were bare leg to bare leg.

  “Meg,” he said softly, trying to gently wake her and shift her back to her side of the bed, but she just burrowed closer. Liam let out a sigh and tried to ignore the feel of her body pressed close to his. He moved his left hand from behind his head and sifted through the dark strands of her silky hair. How many times had they spent riding across the Highlands and ended their afternoons like this? Too many to count. He lifted a strand of her hair to his nose and inhaled the scent. Somehow she had captured the smell of the Highlands, of home. He had come home.

  * * *

  As the sun came up over the horizon, so did Liam awaken. He slowly blinked away the last remnants of sleep and acknowledged several things. First, he had actually slept the night through without any nightmares. This was a miracle in itself. For the first time in years he felt rested and eager to start the day. The second thing he noticed was that somehow during the night, he and Megan had intwined themselves together even further, so it made it difficult to tell who held whom. Another important thing that he acknowledged was the fact that a certain part of his anatomy seemed to be fully engaged. Finally, and perhaps the most disturbing was the fact that Megan was just as naked as he was.

  “How in the hell did that happen?” he muttered.

  “How did what happen?” a sleepy feminine voice asked as she stretched in his arms.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Move. Just. Don’t. Move.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong?” she asked raising up on her elbow, a look of concern on her face.

  “You aren’t wearing any clothes,” he gasped.

  “Oh, that,” she waved away his concern and collapsed back against him. “I often get ove
rheated at night. If I go to bed wearing something, it tends to come off sometime during the night. Is that a problem for you?” She looked at him innocently.

  He visibly swallowed before answering, “Umm, no, not a problem at all.”

  “Good,” she said. “How did you sleep?”

  “Very well, thank you.” He looked at her funny when she rolled back to her side of the bed and started laughing. Liam immediately missed her warmth. “What do you find so funny, madam wife?”

  “You. ‘Very well, thank you,’” she quoted, deepening her voice in an attempt to sound like him. “You sounded like you were speaking to an acquaintance instead of to me.” She continued to giggle.

  “It’s not that funny,” he muttered.

  “I think it is,” she said, still chuckling.

  “Oh, really?” He rolled towards her and playfully dug his finger into her ribs, where he remembered her to be ticklish.

  She kicked and squealed as she tried to fight him back. “Truce,” she begged.

  “I don’t—”

  * * *

  Megan knew she had caught him unaware when she wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him down to her. She took his mouth with hers, and when he would have pulled away and ended their contact, she held on tighter, holding him to her, forcing him to become an active participant in the kiss. Megan nipped at his lower lip and tugged on it. When he started to open his mouth to question her, she went in for the kill.

  She pulled him to her and swept the dark recesses of his mouth with her tongue, reacquainting herself with the territory. For what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, or possibly seconds, Liam finally gave in and countered her moves. Their tongues were like sword fighters, each one meeting every parry and thrust of the other, countering with their own moves. He was trying to pull away from her, she could feel it. In a desperate attempt to keep him close, she raised her naked upper body against him, hoping to entice him to stay with her.

  “Lie back,” he whispered huskily.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No, you’ll leave me again.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere,” he said against her lips.

  “You promise?”

  “Yes,” he said before taking control of the kiss.

  Megan relaxed against the bed, but kept her arms linked about his neck, not totally trusting him to stay.

  “One day you’ll trust me again.”

  Megan said nothing, but instead leaned up and kissed him deeply. She whimpered when he broke the kiss. Her breathing grew rapid as he worked his way down her slender neck, brushing kisses all the way down to that tender spot where her neck met her collarbone. She tilted her head back and to the side to give him greater access. Megan felt him lave the spot with his tongue before gently suckling her there.

  “If I were a lycan, I would bite you right here, and you’d be mine, forever.”

  “You speak of legends at a time like this?”

  “It seemed appropriate,” he said before returning to her neck once more. “And if I were a vampire, I would focus here.” He let his lips and tongue press against the artery in her neck where her blood raced.

  “Stop talking,” she ordered.

  “Yes, wife.”

  He scooted down her body and soon focused on her delicate, ivory mounds. The pink tips already stood erect, eager for his mouth and hands. He took one tip just between his lips, and lightly flicked his tongue back and forth, driving her mad. Just when she thought she would have to beg him to do something, he opened his mouth and took as much of her breast into his mouth as possible, as if he were starving and she was his sustenance. Then he suckled her, first gently, then stronger, until it felt as if an invisible thread connected her breast to her womb. Soon the other tip was plied by his thumb and forefinger. Megan squeezed her thighs closed, hoping to ease the ache that throbbed there.

  “I’ve dreamed of this, of you, for so long,” he murmured. “You kept me sane when I would have gone crazy or given up.”

  Megan gripped his arms and pulled him up so their faces were level. “And I never thought I would see you again. Funny, I kept you sane, but when I lost you I went mad. But now, here you are…in my arms again.” She pulled him down to her and pressed her lips softly against his. “I’ve missed you so very much.” Her thick, Scottish burr grew thicker with tears that clogged her throat. She shimmied closer to him and felt his stiffening manhood resting against her hip. Her eyes flew open, but he quickly distracted her.

  Liam brushed kiss after kiss across her swollen lips. She felt his tongue glide across the seam and she opened to him once more, losing herself in the kiss. His hand skated down her naked flesh, pausing first to ply first one breast, then the other. Then he traveled downward, lightly tickling her ribs as he went, making her wiggle and her lips curve up in a seductive smile. Next, his hand was at her hip, resting lightly. His thumb moved back and forth, caressing her hip.

  “You have curves you didn’t have before, but you’ve lost weight, too.”

  “I grew up,” she answered. “You have muscles you didn’t have before, as well,” she observed, running her hands over his chest and down his arms.

  “I grew up, too,” he replied. He ran his hand along her thigh to her knee, then back up. Ever so slowly, he slipped his hand between her thighs, cupping her womanhood. “This is where I long to be.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, allowing her left leg to fall open, granting him access to her most intimate flesh.

  “Easy,” he said, as if soothing an excited filly. He gently inserted one finger into her tight, moist crevice.

  She threw her head back in ecstasy, arched her neck, and thrust her bountiful chest towards him. She gasped and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Megan dug her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to tell him through her actions what she could not manage to speak.

  “You’re going to have to tell me, sweetheart. This is all for you.”

  “I…”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “I…”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No,” she moaned. “More,” Megan finally managed.

  “Like this?” he asked, as he slipped out the first finger and added a second.

  “Again,” she managed breathlessly. He stroked her dewy center.

  “Or do you prefer this?” he queried as he paused to ply her hidden gem.

  She squeaked and her body shifted restlessly. “I…I… Oh, please, do something,” she moaned. Her grip on him grew tighter.

  Her body jolted when Liam bent over her and began to suckle her breast once again. Megan’s hands finally released him and she instead fisted them, driving them against her eyes. Then she felt it. The most incredible pressure. While his fingers once more pistoned within her body, causing a delicious friction that was driving her mad, his thumb took over manipulating that stiffening nubbin of nerves. She gasped when he followed a particularly deep thrust with a strumming of her womanly pearl. This happened several times before he simultaneously thrust a finger deep within her and pressed hard against that sensitive kernel of flesh.

  Something inside Megan snapped. Something she had been trying to reach. Something she had not felt in five, terribly long years, if ever. Her body arched taught like a bow, before she collapsed. Shivers of ecstasy coursed through her, and she welcomed the release with a long moan. Tears of joy leaked from the corners of her tightly shut eyes.

  * * *

  When next she woke, the sun was slightly higher on the horizon and someone was playing with her hair.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” Liam greeted her.

  “Good morning, husband,” she replied back.

  “That sounds bloody good coming from you,” he bent over and kissed her passionately and with such longing that it brought fresh tears to her eyes. “Here, now. First you cry after I make love to you, and then you cry when I kiss you. And to make it worse, you never used t
o shed a tear. Explain yourself, wife.”

  “I’m happy.” She sniffed and swiped at them.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Positive.” He took her in his arms and she cuddled against him, enjoying his warmth. She replayed things in her mind and shot up, pulling the sheet with her, as if all of a sudden she was concerned with her modesty. “Liam, did you…”

  “No,” he bit off.

  “But…”

  “Let it alone, Meg,” he said.

  Chapter 14

  Two days later, Legend won his first English race by a nose. Megan was not ecstatic. After they met Henry, Hamrick, and Legend in the winner’s circle and received the winnings, Liam was forced with the option of either following them to the stables or being left behind. Resigned, he shook his head and walked behind her. He entered the stable and heard yelling and a commotion coming from Legend’s stall.

  “I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, my lady, we won,” the jockey said.

  “Aye, we won,” Megan agreed, “by a bloody nose! A nose! Have you any idea how close that is?”

  “The length of a nose?” the jockey asked, laughing at what he thought to be a hugely funny joke. A few seconds later, the laughter stopped as a leather feed pouch caught him square in the chest. “Here now, I know you’re a lady, but I’ll not be treated like that by anyone.” The little man took a threatening step towards her.

  “What’s going on here?” Liam asked, stepping between the two before Megan murdered the jockey.

  “They won by a damn nose!”

  “And?”

  “Was I the only one present at this race?” she ranted to the ceiling as she paced back and forth.

  “Calm down,” Liam said.

  “Calm down? Calm down?” she exclaimed, her voice growing louder and more shrill. “That was the slowest race I’ve ever witnessed. They should’ve won by at least, at least, two bloody lengths!”

  “We won,” the man argued.

  “By a bloody nose!” she yelled again, stepping around Liam. “What part of this conversation are you not understanding? Do I need to find a piece of paper and draw for you the difference between a nose and a length? You do know the difference between the horse’s head and arse, don’t you?”