“As if a law might stop you from anything that crosses your mind,” Megan said.
Campbell smiled. “I do have a history of that. But there have been other customers as well. A man named Gwynn interested in some ledgers. He liked my work, by the way. Oh, and a very lovely lady stopped by today to place an order for her father.” He pursed his lips, thinking, and Megan tapped her foot impatiently. “I believe her name was Hendley. Do you know her?”
Megan’s jaw tightened. “Aye, I know her.”
“Quite a beauty,” Campbell said. “Blonde hair, brown eyes. Lusty little wench from what I saw. Her breasts were far more ample than your own, not that I really noticed, but—”
“I don’t give a bloody damn about Diana Hendley,” Megan snarled.
“Diana,” Campbell said thoughtfully. “Aye, that was it. A beautiful name. Goddess of the hunt. She seemed very friendly, one of those women that likes to touch while she talks, not that I’m complaining because the touch of a beautiful woman is always welcome. She extended an invitation to dine with her a few evenings hence and—”
“What?” Megan cried.
“And I graciously accepted because your husband fairly insisted.”
“You’re having supper with her?”
Campbell winked, and Megan sucked in a furious breath. “Supper was offered, madam, but I am fairly sure there might have been something else on her mind. As I said, she seemed a lusty wench and not particularly puritan in her behavior.”
“Diana Hendley is a—”
“Lovely girl,” Campbell said. “Not much younger than you, I’d imagine, but definitely a woman grown, and she seems to know what she wants, unlike some others I could name. Mistress Hendley could barely keep her eyes from wandering down to my, well, you can imagine, and I found I could scarcely keep my eyes from her as well. Her breasts were magnificent, sweet mounds of pale—”
“I don’t wish to hear about this,” Megan said.
Campbell looked surprised. “Oh, well, not interested in new business? Then what did you wish to know? Shall I give a progress report on my training? The MacGregor says—”
“I don’t give a damn what Trevor says. We discussed you leaving, and I want to know if you’ve given it more thought.”
“No, madam, truthfully I havenae thought of it.”
Megan took a deep breath. “I want you out of this house.”
“Your husband is happy with my work,” he said. “I’m growing comfortable here, fitting in nicely, I believe. I see no reason to leave.”
“You’re not the kind of man I want in my house!”
He leaned forward again. “Why not, mistress? Let’s have a small amount of honesty between us.”
Suddenly uncomfortable, she could not meet his eyes. He seemed to be reading her mind. A smile formed on his lips, a smile that seemed to demand she say the one thing on her mind, the one thing she could not possibly say. Instead of telling him how much his very presence affected her, she began to babble, and when she babbled, she lost control of her hands. They waved helplessly, as though searching for more words to fill the void in her own mind.
“You’re not a good influence on anyone around here,” she said. “There’s laughing and joking, and people are ignoring their duties. Why, just yesterday I watched Sam sitting! Just sitting while he listened to some half-assed story you spun out of nowhere. Where do you even get these crazy tales you tell? You make yourself to be the Black Knight, Robin Hood, and King Arthur wound together into the most amazing man ever spawned from earth. It’s ludicrous! No one could have had such life, and yet you have my husband and best friend in your thrall, weaving wondrous tales of glory and honor when you’re nothing but a rebel and wandering mercenary. Or worse.”
“Worse?”
“What happened the other night was very close to rape.”
“Indeed? I seem to recall your mouth finding mine quite well in the dark, and that little tongue of yours could suck the life from a man. I also recall the feel of your muscles gripping my cock, soft flutters and hard tugs that didnae mean you were fighting me at the time. Does a woman raped seek to hold the man inside her, mistress?”
She closed her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”
“So disgusting you’re creaming yourself listening to my words, madam.”
“How could you know…?” She snapped her mouth closed.
“My little secret,” he said. “Was there something else on your mind?”
“I saw you and Trevor playing chess the other day.”
“Spying again, mistress?”
Her hands waved in the air, dismissing any comment he might care to make. “You’re wasting their time.”
“We enjoy our time together. The stories make the day pass quickly, playing chess makes the MacGregor happy, and frankly, if you cared to visit, you’d see a fair amount of work getting done. Surely your accounts speak for our progress.”
“My accounts are in turmoil because I can’t find the bloody time to get them done.”
“’Tis not time that interferes with your duties. You’ve wasted plenty from what I’ve seen. Why just yesterday I watched you staring… just staring toward the garden as though you’d forgotten your purpose. What was on your mind, mistress?”
“What is on my mind is none of your business. I was thinking of my accounts, wondering how I could get them done when…” She paused and risked a glance toward him.
“When we must occupy the same space at the same time?” he asked.
“Exactly,” she said. “I’m glad you understand.”
“Aye, I can see where that wouldnae be good,” he said thoughtfully. “Something might happen, and Christ knows we wouldnae want that.”
“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “We wouldn’t.”
He nodded. “So I’m beginning to understand your points. I’m a bad influence here because I laugh, because I tell stories, ludicrous stories, which are all true, by the way. Also because people waste time and something might happen.”
Her breath burst from her mouth. “Aye.”
“And these are bad things because…?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you dense on purpose, Campbell, or is your head so thick you really can’t understand a thing I say?”
“I’ll admit it. You distract me, mistress. I can barely concentrate when we’re in the same place at the same time. Are there other reasons I should leave?”
“There’s animosity lurking inside you.” As she talked she moved closer to him, coming around the workbench to where he sat. “Something about the Campbells and the MacGregors. It’s bound to come out sooner or later, and it won’t be good for Trevor’s health. You’re the kind of man that stirs up trouble. I like things calm and tranquil. Things are emotional enough around here.”
“Things are well,” he said. “No animosity. No stirring. No trouble.”
“But you’re just not…I can’t…”
He reached out and caught her fluttering hands.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
“I cannae do that. I’ve wanted to touch you again for four bloody days.”
“You’ve not seen me for four days,” she said softly.
“Oh, I’ve seen you. And I’ve seen you watching me.”
“I’ve not—”
“You can lie if it makes you feel better.” He gave her hand a little tug. “Come here.”
“I can’t.”
“You can,” he said softly. “I’ll not hurt you, lass, and I’ll not do anything you don’t want done.”
Wondering what she was doing, she moved closer, and he pulled her between his legs. He released her hand and put his own on his thighs. When his hands clenched against the rough fabric, she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
“Have you wanted to come to me?” he asked.
When she nodded, he reached out and grabbed handfuls of her skirt, dragging her closer. Her shawl fluttered to the floor.
> “He calls you Meg. Is your name Margaret?”
“No. It’s Megan.”
Campbell smiled. “A lovely name for a lovely maiden.”
“I’m not a maiden,” she said.
“Aye, you are, Megan.”
“But I’m married. I’ve…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You know I’m not a virgin.”
“I should hope not since you’re a married woman, but it doesnae matter. In your heart, you’re a maiden true. Come to me, Megan. Let me hold you.”
His hands slid behind her, and she nestled against his body, her pelvis between his legs, her breasts against his chest. He laid his face against her hair, and his hand cupped the small of her back.
“Why are you here, lass?” Campbell asked.
“I wish I knew,” she said.
“For the touch of my hand?”
“No, that isn’t possible.”
Not possible, and yet it was already happening. The warmth of his hand seeped through her blouse and right into her pores, making her blood hotter and forcing it faster through her veins. How could one simple touch make her yearn for something she’d forgotten to want? She slid her body higher in his arms, rubbing against him, stealing the promise between his legs, trying to appease the throbbing between her own. His hand rose, skimming her hip. She had an overpowering urge to shift slightly, to draw his hand closer to the part of her that burned, ached, throbbed. Insanity.
“I want…”
“I’ll give you anything,” he said. “Ask.”
“I want you to leave,” she whispered.
“I cannae leave. I’m bound to the MacGregor for the next seven years of my life.”
She pulled back in his arms. “I won’t survive seven years!” she cried, choking on a sob. “I’ve barely survived seven days!”
She put her hands on his shoulders, clenching them tight, feeling the hard muscles beneath. She got distracted by the strength and power beneath her fingers, and when she felt his hand slide behind her to cup around her bottom, she lost her thoughts entirely.
“Please, Campbell,” she moaned.
“Please what?” His lips touched her throat, a gentle kiss, just a whisper of warmth against her skin. “Love you? If you let me, Megan MacGregor, I’ll love you every day of the next seven years. Let me give you what we both want.”
Her skirt crushed in his fist, and he pulled it up. He slid his hand beneath, roaming up her thighs and over her bottom. Her body curved into the pressure of his hand. His fingers moved dangerously close to the ache between her legs. If she moved the slightest bit, the choice would be taken from her. She wanted so desperately to feel his fingers against her, in her. She didn’t even know why. Even Trevor had rarely touched her that way.
“I don’t know what I want,” Megan said.
“Aye, lass, you do. Let me touch you. Once you feel what I can do to you…”
His finger traced a gentle path up her bottom, sliding over the swell to dip into hollows. Megan rose higher, trying to escape his questing hand, but Campbell was a determined man. He resumed his quest, and his finger swept between her rounded cheeks. She fell against his chest.
“Don’t do that,” she whispered.
“You don’t like it?”
She pressed her cheek against his, and for one moment her mouth brushed against his skin. She felt the hard prick of his beard against her lips, and the harshness of it made her want to scrape her face against him, burn her skin until she found the rawness within herself. Instead, she pressed her lips against his ear.
“I like it, but you still have to stop.”
“I cannae stop,” he said. “Your skin begs for it, Megan. I can feel the heat of you. My hands ache to touch, to feel, to explore, to burrow. The fire in your body burns me.”
He turned his face toward hers and, so fast, his mouth caught hers. She opened her lips, eagerly awaiting the pressure, the taste, the strength of his tongue as it plunged into her mouth. As she drew it deep, he swept his hand lower and drove two fingers inside of her, forcing her higher in his arms, tighter against him. Her muscles wrapped around them and spurred him to push deeper. The feel of it shocked her, but it felt, oh, so sweet. Heavenly. His mouth left hers, finding her throat.
“Campbell,” she murmured. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know, lass.” His words became lost in the strands of her hair. “But ’tis something we must do, or I’ll not survive. Your body holds my very breath, Megan, my life. I cannae exist here without you.”
His fingers slid in and out of her in a fascinating rhythm that tugged at something in her heart and threatened to steal control of her body. Her hips rocked against his hand, taking what he gave, demanding more.
“The smell of you steals my senses. I’ll not be able to live without the smell of you. ’Tis more enticing than a newly opened rose, the breath of the autumn wind, the salty foam of the sea, the heather in the Highlands.”
“Don’t say things like that to me,” she said.
He smiled against her throat. “Why not, lass?”
“Because they make me want to cry.”
“I don’t wish to make you cry, but I cannae help what I need to say to you, and I’ve a feeling there is much more I’ll need to say. Do you think you can avoid me for seven years, Megan?”
“I have money. You can take one of the horses. He’ll never report it. And if he tries, I’ll stop him somehow.”
“With your womanly charms, no doubt.”
His other hand caught in her hair, reaching under to cup the back of her neck, his fingers causing shivers to run down her spine, and still the fingers deep inside her continued to move. He forced her to look at him, raising her chin in his fingers.
“I don’t want to leave,” he said. “There’s an unexpected turn of events blowing in the wind, lass, and I’m thinking ’tis a good bargain that might work in my favor.”
“I don’t want you here.” She couldn’t believe she had forced the words from her mouth.
His fingers trapped her chin, raising her face higher.
“I think you do. I think, Mistress MacGregor, that my very presence stirs something in you. You’ve thoughts in your head you’ve not had before. You’ve feelings in your body that frighten you. And that mouth of yours is begging to be kissed again.”
“No…”
“Aye, it is.”
She bit on her lip. “I can’t take it.”
“Oh, you’ll take it, love. You’ll take my kisses and more.”
His hand slid behind her neck and tightened, pulling her forward. The pressure of his mouth forced her head back. His lips caught hers, his tongue sweeping across her lips and back into her mouth, and she could do nothing but surrender to it.
Suddenly he pulled his fingers from her and stood, twisting her around. He pushed her against the counter, and she felt a cool sweep of air touch her skin as he pushed her skirts up. When she felt the rough cloth of his breeches against her naked flesh, she shivered in anticipation, her nails scraping against the wooden surface of the counter. He reached around her and grabbed her hands in one of his, closing over them tight. He leaned his face close to her, his breath fluttering the strands of hair around her face.
“I want to fuck you, but I can stop. If you really want me to, I will. Tell me what to do, Megan.”
His other hand was already between them, untying his breeches. She shuddered when she felt the warmth of his body press against hers. His groin smashed tight against her bottom, and that disturbing, hard pulse nestled between her cheeks, waiting impatiently.
He squeezed her hand.
“My cock is deciding for you. ’Tis determined to find a place, and it doesnae seem to care where. If you’ve a mind to save pieces of yourself for that husband of yours, there are other options for us.”
His hard, warm flesh traced a path between her cheeks, pausing near a place that shocked her. Her breath exploded from her, aware of the prodding, the sliding, the power t
hat rose behind her. “That’s not possible,” she gasped.
“Oh, ’tis more than possible, lass, ’tis inevitable. I’m a man that likes adventure in his pleasure, and I enjoy every part of a woman’s body. But it doesnae have to be today. I can wait to put my cock in your pretty ass because I’ve yet to discover all the treasures of your body. The tiny dip I’ve taken wasnae nearly enough, and as you can feel, I’m eager to try again. This time I plan to go deeper, harder, and last a great deal longer. So long, in fact, you’ll beg me to stop because your body willnae be able to stand it.”
Megan shivered. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Why not, beauty?”
“Because it makes me feel…”
“Wanted? Aroused? Hot?”
“Aye,” she whispered, “but also ashamed.”
He rubbed against her, his cock sliding between the cheeks of her buttocks, hard, demanding, so eager for a taste of her flesh, but his voice was gentle.
“Don’t feel ashamed, Megan, ’tis a natural thing between lovers.”
“We’re not lovers. We’re strangers, doing things we should never do.”
“Oh, lass, you’re wrong about that. We’re lovers, waiting endless lifetimes for each other. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t intend to let you go, but ’tis your choice.” His hand slid gently around her throat, and he pulled her back against his chest. “I want to bury myself in you now, Megan. I want to fuck you well, lass. ’Tis only a matter of where. If you don’t want to give me what you feel belongs to your husband, I can take your ass.”
He pushed his knee between her legs, and his cock followed, jutting hard against her inflamed flesh. Megan’s hand clutched at a piece of parchment on the counter, crumbling it in her fist.
“Do you want me?” When she threw her head back and whimpered, he cupped her face, twisting it toward him. He smiled. “Answer me, Megan.”
“Aye.”
“I’ve no qualms taking what belongs to another man,” he said. “I’ve done it before, and it doesnae bother me in the least, though I may say your husband doesnae truly deserve it. ’Tis up to you. Do you want my cock in that special place you feel rightfully belongs to your husband?”
Loving Two Highlanders Page 10