Around the World in 80 Men Series Boxed Set 1-10

by Brandi Ratliff

  “I would love it! Where is it? Is it around here?” She quickly looked out the window as he drove away from the restaurant.

  Finlay loved her playfulness, especially when she wasn't trying to be playful. “Nay lass,” he laughed, “it'll take nearly an hour to reach it in the morning.” He reached over and put his hand over hers as they continued their drive to his home.

  Morgan felt his warm hand, and tried to act casually through her wishful thinking. She also managed to keep her eyes on the darkened scenery pass with each mile closer to the large house.

  Once inside, they both went their separate ways to ready themselves for bed. Morgan got completely undressed, and opted for the white robe that was hanging on the bathroom door. Easy access, that was her motto for the night.

  She was the first to get into the bedroom, and jumped into his oversized bed with a good amount of loft, and an overall decent back landing. She waited for her Scot, and smoothed the luxurious comforter down around her frame. When he finally joined her, her disappointment was felt through her entire body.

  “You're not ready for bed?” She sat up and watched him walk through the room. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. Obviously, not proper sleeping attire.

  “Nay, I have some work te do tonight, but I'll see ye first thing in the morning.” He smiled briefly, and picked up the several folders that were on his nightstand.

  She wouldn't complain, she wouldn't pout, and she wouldn't beg. God, she wanted to, but she didn't. “Alright, good night, Fin.”

  “Finlay, lass.” He stopped long enough to give her an amused stare-down, daring her to say it again. Mistake.

  “See ya in the morning, Fin.” She giggled, and snuggled down into the bed and rolled over.

  He shook his head at the woman's back, and laughed as he left the bedroom.

  It took over an hour of Morgan tossing and turning, thinking of her entire situation, and searching for answers, to finally fall asleep. She never felt Finlay join her three hours later. But he felt her.

  The large man laid his body against hers, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. She murmured something that he couldn't hear, and wiggled her bottom as she found the perfect spot in the bend at Finlay's middle. They lay perfectly still, and perfectly content, until morning.

  “Wake up, Morgan Holland.” Finlay's sleepy morning voice was sexy, and Morgan pretended to sleep through his efforts so that she could hear it again.

  Finlay Campbell wasn't easily fooled, and he saw her eyelids move when he said her name. So, instead of trying the same approach, he moved his hand slowly to her side, and dug his fingers into her ribs repeatedly.

  “Ah..okay! Okay!” Her writhing nearly landed her on the floor, but he caught her before she fell. She covered her morning breath, and broke free of his grip. “I need a shower.” She laughed all the way to the bathroom, holding her side dramatically until she closed the door.

  Finlay pulled the comforter off to the side, and stretched his long body as his loud yawn filled the large room. He ran his hand down his large erection as he thought about his eventual release with the young beauty. Would it be that morning? No, he thought, a little while longer would make it that much sweeter. He also had to use quite a bit of will power to resist getting in the shower with the girl, and closed his eyes tightly as the sound of the water running. Running down her back, her long legs, her hard.....

  The lass will drive me mad!

  He made his way to the closest guest bathroom, and showered quickly before he took care of his needs on his own. Oh how tempting it was to wash his need slowly with a warm soft washcloth..repeatedly.

  While Finlay avoided taking care of the pent up desire in his manhood, in the other room, Morgan was getting dressed. She slid a black tank top over her head, and wrapped a tan sweater around that, tying it at the waist, and matched it with a black pair of skinny jeans.

  Once back in the bathroom, she ran her hands through her wet waist long hair, combing the larger knots out with her fingers. She looked in the mirror, finally, the purple hue under her eyes had faded and her headache had completely dissolved. That was until her mind started another argument with itself.

  She took a long sigh and grabbed her blow dryer. Okay, so I definitely overreacted last night. But that doesn't mean I like him. Morgan was bent over at the waist, her hair almost touching the ground as she made zigzags of hot air over her locks.

  Yes you do. Her mind fought the lies she told herself. Well, I do. Of course, how could I not? She sighed again. She wondered if it would be like that with each man she accompanied. No, Finlay was definitely special. She made a mental note be more careful next time to keep her feelings under lock and key.

  Morgan added another layer of mascara on her already thick lashes and evaluated her finished look in the mirror that nearly took up the whole wall in the large bathroom. She ran her hands down her waist, smoothing out invisible wrinkles and cradled her breasts, giving them an unneeded lift.

  She had put her hair into a loose side braid and pulled strands near her ears free to frame her face and gave them each a large spiral curl. Simple, yet elegant. Satisfied with her appearance, she made her way downstairs.

  At the foot of the staircase, she was greeted by a pleasant aroma. “Muffins?” Not just muffins, blueberry muffins. Morgan paused, taking in the scent of her favorite breakfast food. Finlay knew they were her favorite, but more than that, he loved watching her pick out the blueberries as he had seen her do in the hotel.

  By the time he poured himself a third cup of coffee and seated himself beside the beautiful girl, at the oversized kitchen island, an unlucky muffin had already fallen victim to having three of its berries plucked out.

  “Oh my God, Fin, these are so good,” Morgan took her first actual bite. “Did you make these?” she asked though a mouth full of muffin.

  He slid a cup of coffee to her across the marble top of the counter as he watched her little fingers pinch another berry from the crescent shaped bite.

  “Aye, lass, I made them,” Finlay smiled at her. Morgan leaned forward and thanked him with a kiss to his unshaven face. His prominent jaw with a days worth of growth longed to be touched. Oh, he's so beautiful, the young girl admired her handsome client. She couldn't believe that any man, let alone one like him, would take the time to do something so nice for her.

  She finally had her chance. Finlay shoved the last half of his blueberry muffin into his mouth, and a crumb remained on the corner of his lip as a souvenir of the bite. Morgan reached out, brushing the culprit from his lip, letting her finger trace his bottom lip softly. Before she could pull her hand away, Finlay grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his mouth, gently kissing the tips of her fingers. Morgan smiled at his endearing gesture, but forgot about harvesting the rest of the blueberries from her muffin when he slid one of her fingers between his lips, letting his tongue run the length of her middle finger.

  Morgan tilted her head back with a moan, squirming in her seat to beat the impending heat that instantly began making its way to her core. No, don't do this to me. Finlay slowly released her captive finger but wouldn't relent so soon. He loved watching her fight that inner battle. He held her fingers together and pushed his tongue between the first two and ran it from the bottom to the tips.

  A subtle tilt of her hips told him that she imagined the same thing as he. She thought of his tongue on her again, how it had felt when it it had invaded her other sensitive crease. Finlay couldn't torture the girl any longer, nor himself. He planted another soft kiss to the top of her hand and set it gently on the counter.

  “I'll get the food packed then,” Finlay gave her a wicked smile that sent another wave of heat through the young girl.

  Eventually, after the tingling in her fingers subsided, Morgan went back to her breakfast, then decided to help the teasing man gather things for their trip.

  They remained quiet
most of the morning, only offering each other suggestions of what to take, but the looks exchanged between the two were enough to drive the other to death by sexual frustration. I bet it's possible.

  *****

  The drive to the castle took longer than planned. Half-way there, Morgan's coffee caught up with her and, refusing to pee in a bush, as Finlay had suggested, he was forced to go twenty miles out of his way to find her a proper commode.

  “Ye happy now, lass?” he scolded her playfully.

  “Mmmhmm,” she had enthusiastically replied. “Thanks, Fin!”

  “Finlay.”

  “Yep, thanks again, Fin!” He reached for her, but she was too quick., and dodged his big hands. She ran around a large metal wastebasket, dividing herself from his reach.

  “Git over here,” his smile tempted her. He put his arms out in a peace offering, Morgan hesitated, taking a step forward, then back to her safe place.

  The large man went around one side, she the other, until he eventually was too quick and grabbed her. “Fin, put me down!”

  He had her upside down, thrown over his shoulder and was carrying her with the greatest of ease back to the giant vehicle. “Finlay, doll,” he shouted over her laughter and pleas.

  “Fin, Fin, Fin, Fin, Fin...” her chanting continued when she realized he wasn't going to set her down. He lifted his arm, pushing her head further down his back, and Morgan wrapped her arms around his waist in fear of falling. He held her legs down firmly and gave her a swat to her ass. Her chanting stopped, but she continued flailing until she was plopped back into the passenger seat.

  She crossed her arms in defeat and remained that way until the pulled up to the castle.

  Finlay got out of the car, and before he could even make it to her side to open the door, she was already on the ground with a look of awe across her face.

  “It looks like it goes on forever, doesn't it?” Morgan asked, squinting her eyes, hoping to see where the rolling hills might have ended. “Wow...” Her eyes finally made contact with the castle. It was in ruin, but it was still standing enough for one to explore. Her look was replaced by determination, and before Finlay could stop her, she flipped off her shoes and took off running.

  Finlay couldn't help but laugh. He watched the carefree girl run across the grass, up a giant hill, and admired her long legs as they carried her there. She was soon out of sight as she made her way down the first of the two hills that separated them from the castle. With a shake of his head, he grabbed her shoes and made his way to meet up with her.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Finlay joined her, Morgan was already standing in the middle of what was once the Great Hall of the ancient structure. She stood still, scanning the room with the eyes of wonder that made Finlay stop at the entrance to watch. Her mouth opened slightly when her gaze reached the near wall sized hearth that warmed that very room so very many years prior.

  “It's amazing.” The sound was hardly above a whisper, and Morgan didn't intend to say it to anyone except to the room itself. She slowly walked to the fireplace, and ran her hand down the stone surrounding. “So many people would have stood right here. Cooking, eating, talking...” she turned her head to look at Finlay, “what else do you think they did, Fin?” Her lips curled upward, showing the sensual smile that he found himself constantly hoping to see.

  Finlay smiled at the young girl, and walked slowly in to stand by her side. “Well, lass, I imagine that was done too. But...,” he leaned to her neck and kissed her warm skin gently, then added, “men were verra protective over their women back then. Verra..,” another kiss to the neck, “verra,” a kiss to her exposed collar bone, “verra protective.” Then he stood behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lowered his head to rest on her shoulder, and turned his face to hers, “they would even take another man's life for her honor alone.” He ran his full lips across her cheek, and she could feel his mouth change into a wide smile, “since men wanted their women safe, and to belong only to them, then I believe most of that was done in the bedchamber.”

  Morgan put her hands over his, and rested her head against him. “I think it would be a crime to come all the way here and not take a quick look at one of the...” she turned and kissed his forehead, breathing in the clean scent of his hair, “bedchambers.”

  Finlay squeezed his arms around her middle tightly, “aye, love. We wouldn't want a crime committed here today.”

  Love? He called me love? It's just a term they use, don't read into it! Love?

  She could feel his love pressing against her back, and she giggled quietly as she pushed against him and wiggled her ass slowly from side to side. “Fin?” Her smile could be heard in his name, and it stirred a reaction deep in his heart that wasn't quite familiar.

  “Finlay. What?” He slowly matched her movements, enjoying her small bottom against him.

  “I'm not wearing shoes.” She pressed harder against him. “And since the Scottish men in my dreams carry their women from room to room, I think I would really like it if you carried me to the bedchamber.”

  Before she could finish the sentence entirely, Finlay picked her up from where she stood, and walked directly to the very narrow stone stairs that led to the second floor. She laughed, and held tightly to his neck as they started to climb.

  Small fallen stones from years past crunched loudly under his feet as he reached the top of the first set of stairs. Finlay knew exactly where the Laird's bedchamber was, and he carried Morgan to the third door in the hallway. The large man opened the thick wooden door with his foot, and it creaked loudly as it opened. With only three more strides, he stood with her in his arms in the center of the room.

  When Morgan let go, and looked around, she saw something quite unexpected. On the floor was a sleeping bag, two lanterns, a food cooler, and a pile of papers. Squatters? Would someone try to live there? The questions kept running laps through her mind, and Finlay watched her closely.

  “Uh, maybe we should leave. Whoever this belongs to could come back.” Morgan started to step backward slowly, as if disturbing the inanimate objects would bring trouble. But her feet were slowed when her date began to laugh.

  “Love, all of this is mine.” He pointed to the small indoor camp, and continued to laugh.

  Her mind raced again, wondering why he would have such a setup in the room. They had just decided the night before to go there, and he didn't have time to bring anything beforehand. Then it all made sense. He brings women here. He shows them the old castle, then takes them to this room. God! Why do I keep thinking I'm so fucking special? She shook the thoughts from her head, and tried to focus on the reason for her being with him at all; her job.

  “Well, it looks as if you're prepared for anything.” Her weak smile was enough to keep Finlay from knowing how she felt.

  He put his hand out to her, and after she took it, he lowered both of them to the ground.

  As she lay beside him, trying to keep the negative thoughts from her mind, her eyes lowered to watch him untie her sweater from her waist. Is that what he does with every woman he meets? Then she took a deep breath and released it slowly as he removed her tank top. Do the other women even care? His large hands easily unclasped her expensive push up bra, and her breasts bounced free from the soft material. Ahhh...use your teeth, please use your teeth. Finlay dropped his forehead against her bare stomach, and held still while he unbuttoned her jeans. She wanted his hands on her, but the cool air that surrounded them brought her nipples to a hardened peak, and she pulled his head to her breasts. He looked up at her, and she nearly lost her breath at the intensity in his eyes.

  “Please.” She begged for the feel of his mouth before he continued. The smile that crossed his lips wasn't amusement, or humor, it was sex. Sheer, white hot, sex. That look made her take her large breast in her hand, and move her nipple to his waiting lips. He opened his mouth wide around the offering, and the second that his hot mouth met her coo
l skin, she arched her back against him and buried her fingers in his thick dark hair.

  He sucked gently, and rolled his tongue over the beautiful pink bud agonizingly slow. His soft deep moan matched hers as he let his teeth scrape gently against her. Her reaction was sending him over the edge, and he was nearing the point where he had to be inside of her. But her sweet sounds of pleasure, and her body pressing hard against his kept him going.

  He looked up at her as he held her nipple in his teeth, baring the show for her to watch. His tongue moved back and forth slowly, and she watched it as her pleasure grew.

  Finlay never lost eye contact as his hand came up to her other breast. He slowly moved her white warm breast upward, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. He relaxed his mouth around long enough to suggest, “put it in your mouth.”

  She looked at her own nipple, the one that wasn't getting nearly enough attention, then reached down to put her hand over his. She kept his hand covered as she led it, and her breast, closer to her face. She closed her eyes as her wet tongue came from her mouth, all the while wondering what sensation she would bring to herself.

  “Finlay! Where are you?” Both Morgan and Finlay jumped at the echoing sound of a woman's voice. They looked at one another briefly before Morgan reached for her tank top and sweater. Finlay stood up, and before he could reach the bedchamber door, Morgan had her clothing back in place, and was pulling her sweater back together with the tie.

  Morgan brought her legs up to her chest, she felt like a teenager who just got caught making out on her parent's sofa. When she heard Finlay again, it seemed as if he were halfway down the stairs.

  “Claire? What are ye doing here?” His question bounced along the walls of the old stone, until they reached Morgan's ears...and heart.