Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  “Dear, sweet Christ,” she murmured, her knuckles white as she gripped the table harder.

  He lowered his head, unable to keep himself from her a moment longer. He captured one cotton-covered nub between his lips and pulled it slowly, softly into his mouth. Her groan was deep and satisfied, pleasing him in a way another woman’s climax couldn’t even compare with. She released her death grip on the table and clutched at his head, keeping him where he was, which was perfectly fine by him.

  He slid his hand up and toyed with her other nipple, making her body twitch hard and her hips drive forward. So responsive, his Kat. Every inch of his body was rigid and aching hot. He pushed the t-shirt up, needing to taste her sweet flesh. Her nails raked his scalp as he finally circled her bare nipple with his tongue. Her hips were pumping now. He skated his palm across the nipple that was still damp from the t-shirt he’d suckled it through, then rolled it gently between his fingers as he continued to flicker his tongue over her.

  She groaned again and again, holding him to her breast, her back arching now. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip his arm around that arched back and lift her up onto the pool table. He pushed her back and climbed right up on top of her.

  “Brodie,” she gasped. “What—” The word ended on another long groan as he pressed his hips to hers. When he’d dragged her onto the table, her coveralls had slipped down her hips, revealing a pair of soft rose-colored bikini panties that made the pale skin of her belly and thighs look luminous in comparison.

  He slid to one side of her, needing to see all of her, touch all of her. With her blond hair all wild and spread out across the green felt, her skin so alabaster pure against the dark backing, all slender legs and slim torso, she looked like some sort of fairy sprite. Which, had he mentioned it out loud, would have surely brought a derisive snort from her.

  The thought of it made him grin.

  “That looks distinctly feral,” she told him.

  “Och, but I’m a harmless bloke, merely looking to pleasure his lady.”

  That earned him a short giggle, which somehow turned him on more than everything that had happened to this point.

  “Yer doin’ a fine job of it so far,” she told him on a sigh.

  For all that he had her sprawled across his billiard table, in complete dishabille, he’d have thought she’d have turned shy or self-conscious. Once again, the Kat he knew peeked through. There was almost a taunting thread to her tone now. “Of course,” she said, “you have me wondering just how much ‘spoils’ one round of darts should earn ye. And don’t think I’m no’ payin’ close attention, as I plan to best you for certain next round.”

  Brodie reached across her and plucked one of the handmade darts from the table, twirling it in his fingers. “Do ye, now.”

  Her eyes widened a little, but not in fear. He loved that about her most. She didn’t shy away from him. Never would. Their bond went far too deep.

  He shifted onto his side next to her, propping himself up on one elbow as he continued to toy with the dart. “Lovely piece of art, don’t you think?” Then he looked at her and winked. “The dart is quite a piece of work, too.” And he got the satisfaction of seeing the pink rise in her cheeks again, even as the curiosity regarding his intentions flared to life in her eyes. Och, but she was a complexity of needs, his Kat. He was going to quite enjoy unraveling them all.

  Slowly, and with great deliberation, he turned the dart around, cupping the sharp end in his palm…then softly twirled the feathers across first one bare nipple then the other. Both were still budded and damp from his earlier ministrations, and slightly flushed in color. Her hips jerked as her back arched deep, her sudden intake of breath coming out on a long moan as he slowly trailed the soft feathers down the line of her torso, circling her navel.

  He leaned down and continued his exploration with his tongue. “Och, but a man could feast here for days,” he told her between suckling her nipples, the words never more heartfelt. “And yet…I am drawn to the rest of the feast.”

  Her breath was coming in short gasps as he drew his tongue down along the path the feathers had taken. Shifting his body down, he hooked one finger in the slender strap holding her panties around her hips, and tugged. She gasped, arched again, and he could smell the musk of her. Aroused she was, which was a good thing. His boxers clung to the tip of his cock, so wet and ready was he for her. Had he ever wanted a woman this badly?

  With his body, aye, perhaps, he acknowledged. But when the power of love was behind that need, it took him to a place he’d never dreamed of approaching. The need was deep, bordering on desperate, and came from places within him, deep-as-a-well places he hadn’t thought he possessed.

  Possess her, that’s what he wanted. Nay, that’s what he needed.

  Patience, lad. Handle this right…and she’ll be yours forever. The very idea almost made him come right there. And what a waste that would have been. The smile that brought to his lips also brought with it the much-needed edge he required to continue.

  As he traced his tongue along the edge of elastic that ran between her jutting hip bones, she flung one hand over her head, clutching at the far edge of the table. Her other hand came down to grip his hair so hard he was certain he lost a few in the battle. The visceral nature of her need drove him even higher. But he also resisted her urging him to move his mouth to where she needed it most.

  And smiled as he looped his finger under the other strap, and tugged, freeing her to him, but binding her thighs together at the same time. Tugging wasn’t going to work, so he flipped the dart and grabbed one of the delicate straps, using the sharp point to create a small tear.

  “What do ye think you’re doing?” she gasped, as he ripped her panties free and tossed them aside.

  “Shh,” he told her, then flicked the feathers between her legs, eliciting a surprised growl from her. “Lay back, let me play.” He glanced up at her. “We always did have the spirit of play between us, I dinnae see the need to stop it now. No’ when it might be the most fun we’ve had yet.”

  She held his gaze and almost looked as if she wanted to argue the point. That was his Kat. But then he flicked the feathers again, making her body—and his—twitch hard. And she eventually let her head loll back once again on the green felt.

  “I won’t leave you wantin’ for anything, Kat,” he murmured, as he traced his tongue from her hipbone to the fringe of her pubic hair. “That I can promise ye.”

  Her nails raked his scalp again as her grip tightened once more in his hair. He teased her legs apart with the feathers. “Open for me. Let me have my way.”

  She shifted her thighs apart—a long, keening moan ripped from her as he replaced the feathers with the very tip of his tongue, and flicked it back and forth across that most highly sensitized of nubs. Something primal within him roared as she shifted again and allowed him even deeper access.

  He rose up, scraping the darts to the floor as he dragged her around so she lay on the length of the table, pausing only to fully remove the rest of her clothes and boots, leaving only that white t-shirt, bunched up above her breasts. He crawled up between her thighs, his face inches away from where she wanted him most. “Beautiful,” he whispered almost reverently. “Every part of you, Kat. Lovely. And all mine.” And then he buried his tongue deeply inside of her.

  The sound that ripped from her was more bark than growl, her hips pistoning up, driving his tongue even deeper. He kept the rhythm, felt her climb. He slipped several of his fingers in his mouth, then slid his hands up her body and took her nipples between his wet fingertips, softly tugging them, flicking the pads across her engorged tips.

  She went wild beneath him, and it was all he could do not to climb up her body and drive deep. But he wanted to taste her as she peaked. And he knew he could take her there again. She was so damn responsive to him, it was driving him insane. He skated the palm of one hand down her torso, then slipped his fingers between her thighs. She was growling dee
p now, raw, guttural sounds that drove him wild, her hips pumping, pressing herself into his face. As he slid his tongue up and over her wet, pulsing clit, pulling it gently into his mouth, he pushed one finger deep inside of her. She was hot, tight, and so ready. One slow slide out, and when he pushed back in, she climaxed. Hard.

  He swore she almost came off the table completely, her hips jerked so violently, her back arched so deeply. She held his head with her hands, and clutched at his fingers, still buried inside her, with her body. The hot, slick folds were so wet, she could barely find purchase.

  Then she was pushing herself up, reaching for him, for any part of him she could sink her fingers into, and pulling. “Come here,” she commanded. Not begged. Not his Kat. His needy, wanting, and oh-so-hot-and-wet Kat.

  But Brodie had other ideas. He hadn’t waited all these years to discover her, only to take her like a rutting beast on a rock-hard billiard table, for God’s sake. Especially when he had a nice, soft, and very big feather bed waiting for them right up the stairs.

  He slipped free from her, dropping a hot, wet kiss right between her thighs, making her arch again, moan again. Then he slid off the table and, gripping her thighs, pulled her to him. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  “What?” She was still trying to make sense of the sudden change. Her eyes were half closed, her lips soft and relaxed.

  She looked sated and drowsy and happy…and it was because of him. He’d never wanted anyone so much in his life. “Hold on to me, Kat.” And don’t ever let go, he thought.

  “I don’t want to play darts anymore,” she said, the words soft and growly.

  He smiled as she locked her ankles around his waist and he pulled her up and looped her arms around his neck. “No more darts.”

  “Mmm,” she managed, “that’s good.” Her smile was so soft and so damn sweet, he had to taste her.

  He kissed her, gently this time, tenderly. Her arms tightened around his neck, her thighs did the same around his waist, and she sank into the slow, sweet kiss with a soft sigh of contentment. He decided he wanted to hear that exact purr in his ear all his remaining days.

  But if he didn’t get her off this table and up those stairs, those days would be cruelly brief as he was sure he would die a certain death if he didn’t have her soon.

  “Come on,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Where?” she managed, dropping kisses along his jaw, nipping at his chin.

  He didn’t think he could be any harder, want her any more thoroughly. “Do ye have any notion a’tall what ye do to me?”

  She laughed a little and squirmed against him, hooking her heels in as he swung her off the table and walked to the stairs in the rear of the pub. “Perhaps. A wee bit.”

  “Wee?” he said, teasingly affronted as he wiggled his hips right back.

  “Och,” she declared, pulling his mouth back to hers. “Men. Take me upstairs and ravish me properly, Brodie Chisholm. Then we’ll decide who won the bigger prize today.”

  He made her squeal when he tossed her over his shoulder. It was the only way he had a prayer of making it upstairs. “Bottoms up.”

  She reached down and smacked his as he climbed.

  He was grinning like a mad fool as he kicked the door open to his upstairs loft. “That could likely be a topic for long and heated debate.”

  She smiled and hummed against his neck. “Lucky me, then.”

  No, he thought, his heart swelling as he put one knee on the bed and lowered her into the pile of linen and down. “Lucky us.”

  Chapter 9

  Kat felt drunk with power. And yet, all she’d done thus far was let him have his way with her. Not that he hadn’t seemed quite pleased with that particular setup, but she needed to know their partnership would be equal. Outside of bed, she knew they were well matched, well suited. In bed…well, she knew he was perfectly suited for her. A wicked smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

  Now, however, it remained to be seen if she could be for him, what he’d so effortlessly become for her. A partner in full. She was particularly interested in that “in full” part…but first things first.

  He was lowering himself down on top of her, and her resolve wavered for just a moment. She was so wanting to feel his full weight on her. Patience, Kat, patience.

  At the last second, she caught him by surprise and hooked her leg around his, rolling him to his back and sliding on top of him in the process. Not that her slighter weight could pin him down by sheer force alone, but perhaps she could persuade him to see things her way. At least for a little while.

  His momentary shock was quickly replaced by a devilish twinkle as she pinned his hands to the bed beside his head. “Claimin’ spoils ye didn’t earn, are ye?”

  “Perhaps this is part of the game, no’ the prize.” She grinned. “I’ll let you decide who can claim the victory when we’re through and done.”

  “I’m no’ so certain I’ll ever be through and done with you, Kat-o-mine.”

  She smiled at that, her heart swelling a bit, but locked her ankles on his when she felt him start to move. She tightened her grip on his wrists as well. “Now, now, play fair and let me have my turn. Else how will we decide the winner?”

  Brodie took a moment to consider this, then lay back, completely relaxed. “Have your way, then.” He closed his eyes. “Be gentle with me.”

  She laughed. “Now, why would I want to do that?” She took the opportunity to flip his jeans open and drag them down and off, along with his shoes and socks. She gave a brief thought to the clothing and torn panties scattered across the billiard table and pub floor below…but was quickly brought back to the present when she looked upon Brodie in nothing more than his boxer briefs. She’d seen him in little more over the years, every time they’d taken a dip in the hot springs nestled in the outcropping of rocks just beyond Mr. MacClellan’s gooseberry patch.

  But she’d never seen him quite like this.

  “Do ye have any notion of how comely you look, wearin’ nothing more than that t-shirt of yours?” Brodie grinned, keeping his hands resting quite naturally next to his head. “Still a wee bit damp there in the front.”

  Kat wasn’t sure where the moxie came from. Had anyone told her she’d be so bold in this situation, she’d have laughed them down the lane. Perhaps it was because this was, after all, Brodie, her closest, most trusted friend and ally. She’d thought it would be difficult, complicated, if they took this step. And yet it had been anything but. Aye, it had been arousing, thrilling, and downright perfect. And despite the pitch of nerves currently fluttering in her belly, she seemed to have no problem answering him with a saucy retort of her own.

  She yanked the shirt over her head and tossed it away, amazed at how free and relaxed she was in her own skin. “I’m more than a wee bit damp in front, as you say.” She wriggled on him a little bit. “But you’re likely to know that better than I.”

  It gave her quite a little thrill to see him momentarily without speech. She took full advantage, once again not willing to relinquish any edge ceded to her by the opposition. Though it was getting harder and harder to see him as the opposition. When she caught his naughty wink just before he wiggled his hips at her, she thought “partner in crime” might ring truer at the moment.

  “Now you’re just braggin’ some,” she said on a laugh, then did the boldest thing she’d done yet. She slipped her hand around his still-cotton-clad erection and stroked him from base to head. “Not that you dinnae have a point there,” she added, somewhat shocked herself by her action. And yet, given the way his eyes immediately squeezed shut and his hips pumped forward as he let out a long, deep, growl…well, she might have to consider being bolder more often.

  “You’re killin’ me, but I find I don’t mind dyin’ so much. As long as you don’t stop what you’re doing until I draw my last breath.”

  She was sliding her hand up, then pulling his briefs down along with her hand, when he opened one eye a tiny slit and
peered down at her, a cocky grin ghosting the corners of his mouth. “Stop taunting me,” she warned him, “or I’ll—” She loosened her hold a wee bit.

  He immediately closed his eye and let his head press back into the duvet. “Have your way with me, then.”

  With his boxers off, she took a moment to stare at the full glory that was Brodie Chisholm. Aye, to be certain she’d pictured him just like this, in this very place, many times over. But for all she had a quite vivid imagination, she hadn’t begun to do him justice. His body was big and rugged, muscles here, sharp angles there. He had a pretty face, that he did, but his body was more rough-hewn, owing to a life of physical labor, hoisting kegs of ale, and unloading truckloads of spirits. And, at the very moment, it was all hers, to do with whatever she wanted.

  It was hard to know where to begin. It wasn’t every day a girl was granted her fondest wish. She didn’t want to squander it, on the off chance she’d awake to find this was all but a dream, never to be dreamt of again.

  With his eyes still closed, his body sprawled there beneath her, ready, willing, and apparently quite capable, he casually stated, “Are you aware of the continued distress yer causin’ me by staring at me, all the while depriving me of your wonderful touch?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to touch, but just look,” she teased.

  Brodie was known for his continual good nature and charm, and no one would say he was afraid of a little hard work. But he did things at his own pace, in his own time, his own way. So Kat was once again caught quite off guard when he moved so swiftly, she was suddenly on her back, beneath him, with her own arms pinned above her head, all before she quite knew what had happened.

  He was grinning down at her. “Ye know my ancestors were fond of raiding a castle or two in their time, perhaps ravishing a comely wench here and there.”