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Her Scottish Mistake (A Perfect Escape)

Page 11

by Michele De Winton


  He looked down at her and hesitated. Was he making her life even more complicated?

  “You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted to act out that couple on the famous movie poster,” she said. “You know, Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster. The two of them kissing in black and white while the ocean laps at their toes.”

  “From Here to Eternity.”

  “That’s the one.” Janie ran her hands down his chest and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

  Oh God. Just look at her. He let all rational thought depart. It was his last holiday fling before he had to go back to reality. A reality that was not going to include any women for a long time. Best he enjoyed it while he could. She was in this with her eyes wide open. They were two strangers, doing what strangers do. And he was helping her get over her ex. She’d said so.

  “Shall we try it out?” He strode back to the beach, kneeling on the sand before pulling her down next to him.

  Her mouth sought his before he had a chance to say anything else, and everything fell away except this. Her perfect body, encircled in his.

  Lying back on the sand, he hoisted her on top of him. Her breasts pressed their soft cushions of warmth against his chest, and his muscles tightened at the sensation. Oh man but he wanted them in his mouth. He rolled her over and drew a line of urgent kisses from her mouth, down her neck, before he took one breast between his lips.

  She hissed in a breath, and he indulged himself completely, sucking hard on her breast, drawing as much of it as he could into his mouth and devouring it with his tongue.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, and he switched to the other breast, lavishing his tongue, his mouth, and gentle nips from his teeth over her.

  The warm ocean lapped at his feet, and it added to the erotic sensation coursing through him.

  “Oh, the water on my legs feels amazing,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “You feel amazing. This…this is amazing.”

  “You have no idea,” he growled, and pushing up on his hands, ground his pelvis against her, letting her feel the hardness of his very ready cock.

  A small whimper escaped her throat. “Again so soon? And you say I’m full of surprises.” There was a taunt in her voice he loved.

  Catching her eyes, his breath caught at the hot lust in hers as she felt the full length of him.

  “How do you even hide that under a kilt?”

  He laughed. “You didn’t have any complaints before.”

  “As long as you don’t break me with it. I want it again,” she said, her mouth set in a line. “Come here,” she demanded, and he smirked at her.

  “I love a woman who knows what she wants. Hold that thought.” And rolling her off him, he dashed back to his robe, grabbing a condom from the pocket.

  “How did you get that in there?”

  “I like to be prepared,” he said over his shoulder. “Must be the Boy Scout in me.”

  The little smile she gave him was hot and coy all in one. “I’ve never done this before,” she whispered.

  “Never had sex on a beach?”

  She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Never even gotten naked out of doors.”

  “Well, I promise you it is a total turn-on. As if I wasn’t already fit to burst.” He pulled her on top of him again, cupped her hips with both hands, positioning her so he could enter her while watching every thrust.

  She gasped as he started to lower her onto him and given how tight she’d been the first time, he took it slow, not wanting to hurt her. But she leaned over and gripped him around the wrists. “I said all of you, McDashing. Now.”

  He paused, the head of his cock just inside her entrance, the exquisite squeeze of her sending shivers through all his nerve endings. “You said that before. You call me McDashing?” And he pushed in a little before pulling her almost all the way off him.

  She groaned as he paused again and tried to thrust down onto him, but he held her back by the hips. “Stop stalling, or I’ll call you McTease for the rest of the trip. If you don’t put your God-given gift to work in the next two seconds, I swear I’ll—”

  But he didn’t give her a chance to say what she’d do, pulling her all the way down and engulfing himself in her slick sheath, stealing her breath and his own capacity for speech.

  She moaned as he paused again, putting her hand back onto her clit, and the sight of her head thrown back, eyes closed, lost in the sensation of their union, just about undid him.

  Her eyes flashed open. “So close. More.”

  That was it, and there was no way to stop himself from taking her hard and fast and deep.

  Now that he’d buried himself in her, he released his grip on her hips, and she started to ride him, following his thrusts with her own till they fell into an easy rhythm. Blaine closed his eyes, just for a second, and allowed the full breadth of the sensation to seep through him. Their first tryst upstairs had been glorious, but having Janie ride him under the stars was next to perfect. A long, hot surge of sensation that was building too fast already.

  When he opened his eyes and looked up at the woman riding his cock, he sucked in another breath and reached for her. She’d taken her hand off her clit and was leaning back on his thighs. Arched back, her stomach tightened by the position, her breasts jutting out, her skin coated in moonlight, it was all he could do not to throw her down and devour every last part of her. As it was he sat up a little, taking his weight on one arm and massaged a handful of her breast, tweaking her nipple before slipping a hand up into her hair and pulling her head back even further.

  “Oh yes.” She started to clench around him, once, twice, three times, and it took everything he had not to join her as she tumbled over the edge. He slowed his thrusts and she settled, opening her eyes with starry wonder as she realized he was still hard.

  “Whatever it is that they put into Scottish porridge, I want some.”

  He kept up his rhythm, and then, feeling the clench in his balls, his climax fast approaching, Blaine released her butt on one side and pulled her hand to her clit. Together they massaged, and he encouraged her to add extra pressure, feeling the glorious sensation as he moved inside her.

  “Man, that feels… I’ve never…” she said.

  Her spasms began almost twice as strong as her first orgasm, and as she started to grip him the sun faded, his world shortening, darkening, and falling apart as she threw her head back. “Oh, yes, dear God yes, almost there, right…”

  He twisted a fraction under her and she shuddered anew, just as he let go completely and pumped his seed deep into her. His balls straining at the force of his climax, his cock almost vibrating as she rode him and clenched around him, Blaine said nothing, yelled nothing, all thought and words and reason stolen by the sheer vastness of the sensation rushing throughout his body as they came together.

  Janie fell forward, laying her naked body over his, and he felt her chest rising and falling as she sucked in lungful after lungful of evening sea air.

  For a moment neither of them said anything and silence wrapped its oblivious arms around them like a blanket. Little whispers from the outside eventually crept in. The hiss of the warm wind through the trees, the cry of a bird, the splash of the water against the beach and the hiss as it tried to pull the sand with it back into the ocean.

  “Well, that was even better than it looked on the movie poster. Although the whole sand thing? I could take it or leave it.”

  Blaine squinted up at Janie who had pushed back and was now straddling him again. He smirked. “Picture-perfect, but not so perfect, huh?”

  She wrinkled her nose, which made her all kinds of adorable. “Don’t get me wrong, if I was going to rate the sex I’ve had in my life from crappo to amazing, that would be beyond mind-blowing, but the whole rolling in the sand, thrusting about in it…” She dusted off a patch on her leg, “It gets everywhere. I mean, like, Every, Where.”

  “Well, best we wash you off,” Blaine said with an even bigger grin, and lifted her off him
. Disposing of the condom in his robe pocket to deal with later, he took her hand and pulled her to the ocean before she had a chance to protest and walked them both into the sea, dunking her below the water as she shrieked in protest.

  He kissed her on the nose. “It’s for your own good,” he said, and smoothed his hands over her sides, hips, ass. “I’m just washing the sand off.”

  “Oh, that’s what they call this is Scotland? I thought it was more like an underwater fondle.”

  “I can do that too, if you want me to,” he said and moved his hands to her front, cupping first one breast then the other.

  She laughed, that bright, light sound that relaxed his shoulders even further, and Blaine marveled at just how comfortable he felt with her. This was what it was like to be a normal person, someone who wasn’t fighting to prove themselves every day, someone who was getting on with the business of living instead of pushing at the doors of success all the time. And as far as last flings went before his self-imposed celibacy, this was perfect.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” she asked, and kissed him softly at the edge of the mouth.

  He turned his head and took her lips in his with more fierceness than he’d intended, and blood began to rush south again with a furious and hardening speed.

  “Well, that’s a place I’m not averse to visiting again,” she said, coming up for air and rubbing herself over him, heightening the increasing erection he was sporting. “I keep going on about porridge, but honestly, however we make it in the States, it’s clearly not right, because no one I’ve ever met is like you.”

  That got him smiling again. “I was thinking how relaxed I feel with you, how nice it is to not have to try, to just be me.”

  She paused, her expression mostly hidden from him. “That’s such a lovely thing to say.”

  “I’m glad,” he said. “The work I do, there is so much posturing, so much that is putting on a face, a character. It’s good not to even think about that with you.”

  She cocked her head. “Everyone pretends a little I think. No matter what they do. It’s just a matter of how much the pretending gets in the way of yourself.”

  “How do you mean?” he asked.

  “I’m the dutiful daughter when I’m with my pop, and I’m the tough Southern gal with the snakes at the petting zoo. All of it is me, but I just have to make sure I don’t let one overtake the other. The most truthful I am is when I’m alone with the snakes. They can see through artifice, wouldn’t stand for it, so I don’t bother trying.”

  Blaine stiffened. He was going to be his best self when he got home. A star, but without all the baggage. Someone the press wouldn’t bother with because there was nothing to find but a guy doing his job and doing it well. “Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be again. I think I’d forgotten a moment,” he said. “You’ll make someone a great partner one day. And a great mom.”

  Janie’s head jerked up and with the moonlight full on her face, she gazed up at him with such barefaced adoration his heart tightened and he let himself wonder, just for a moment, what it would be like to give it all up, to be like she was, moving through life being loyal to family and friends.

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen. The crash that had killed his parents had taken away his family and shown him how many people were unfit to be parents. And it had shown him that he didn’t have the qualities that made people great husbands and fathers either. His brother had been a big burden to carry, one he’d stuffed up more times than he’d care to count, so there wouldn’t be any children for him, not when he knew they’d never get the love they needed. His life was going to be about his career. Period.

  Just at that minute, Janie’s stomach gave a rather unromantic roar. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Like you don’t already think I’m obsessed with food.”

  “I love it that you know how to eat. You have no idea the stupidity of some of the women I work with when it comes to food. You’d think it was a crime to eat more than a salad sometimes.”

  Janie wrinkled her nose. “Well, I did skip breakfast.”

  He laughed. “Right then, lass. Let’s see if the room service menu is as good as everything else here. My agent said to enjoy the facilities, so let’s eat.” He pulled her up, and they went up the stairs to the bedroom.

  “Now get yourself in that bed and order something to build your strength up, ’cause I’m not done with you yet.”

  She grinned and leaped onto the giant bed after drying herself off in a giant fluffy towel.

  “Phone’s on the nightstand. Be right back.” He disappeared into the other room to rummage for the room service menu, discovering the complimentary champagne in the fridge at the same time.

  “Oh man, I could get used to this,” Janie said, when he’d returned and she was sipping on the champagne.

  “You enjoy every minute of it. But right now I’m going to take a shower.”

  “I would offer to come with you, but I can count the number of times I’ve flounced around in a bed as soft as this, drinking bubbles as good as this, with a view as good as this, on one finger. So forgive me for letting you shower alone,” Janie said, snuggling down under the super luxurious feather duvet.

  “Forgiven,” he said. “But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with it again.”

  She laughed, and he headed for the shower with satisfaction running a smoothing hand over his skin. She was right. This place was amazing. This time was amazing. He was going to forget about his life back home, forget about the future for a little while, and enjoy squeezing every last ounce of enjoyment out of his time here before he went into monastic celibacy and beat the media at their own game. Stephanie would be history soon enough, and then his brother would be safe. It was going to be his time and Blaine was going to make it big. Just as he turned off the shower, the doorbell chimed, a tinkling run of bells that wouldn’t have been out of place at real monastery.

  “That’ll be the room service,” he called. “I hate to drag you out of your bed, but could you grab it?”

  He heard Janie laughing before she yelped. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing? Get out of here.”

  Blaine wrapped a towel around his waist and headed out to check on Janie.

  Flash!

  “What the?”

  Flash! Blaine saw white squares every time he blinked as the Thai photographer fired off another round of shots. Dragging Janie inside, Blaine slammed the door and leaned against it, trying to shake the blinding flashes out of his eyes. “Bollocks.”

  Every muscle of his body said run or fight. If it could have, it might have done both. Instead, his fists clenched, ready to strike out and finish whoever the photographer had been.

  “What the hell was that?” Janie asked, clearly more shaken than her tough talk allowed. He made himself release his fists.

  “Did he take any photos of you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He pointed the camera at me and said something garbled in Thai, but there weren’t any flashes till you turned up. I thought you said this place had a privacy clause?” She started stalking the room. “Is this what it’s like? Was that a paparazzo? But he looked like a local. I didn’t think they had paparazzi in Thailand.”

  “I’m not sure,” Blaine said grimly. “But I’m going to find out.” He looked her up and down. Flushed from the adrenaline, her cheeks had pinked and her full lips were in a pout that would have made a perfect fashion cover shot. The towel she was wrapped in covered her up at least, but her freshly mussed hair and bare shoulders said sexathon just as much as if she’d been wearing suspenders and stockings. The sigh came from somewhere deep and dark. Double shit—if there was any dirt on Janie, even a single speck, this sweet little fling was going to get blown out of proportion, and Stephanie’s family was going to destroy his brother. He needed to do some sweet-talking and do it fast.

  Without warning, he realized that the pout was starting to wobble. “You okay?”

  Nod
ding, she released a big sigh as he took her in his arms. “Who would want a photo of me? I mean, really. I’m not exactly going to be taking the world by storm for my towel-modeling ability.”

  Somehow, in the midst of his panic, Blaine found room to smile and tipped her chin so she looked up at him. “You could model anything and look good in it. Don’t worry, we’ll find out what the hell is going on.”

  The doorbell rang again and both of them froze. “Go in the other room and get dressed,” he said to Janie in a low voice.

  The faint cry of “Room service” came through the door.

  “Hang on a minute,” Blaine called, and once he had a shirt and shorts on, opened it to find a uniformed waiter smiling with a tray laden with food and no photographer in sight.

  Tipping the guy so he left pronto, Blaine shut the door quickly and set the tray on the table.

  He punched in his agent’s number and filled him in quickly on what had happened.

  He’d just hung up when Janie’s face popped round the door. “All clear?”

  Blaine nodded. “Best we eat,” he said, trying to sound chipper but not sure it would wash with Janie.

  A rumble from her stomach cut through the tension in the room, allowing them both to breathe. “Apparently, my stomach doesn’t care if our privacy has been violated or not,” she said. “And just when I was set to take on the world of towel modeling. Perhaps I’ll change my focus from snakes and go with it. Think there’s much money in egg roll modeling?” she asked, holding up an egg roll with her chopsticks and taking a bite very suggestively.

  “If you do it like that, I think there would be plenty of people who’d buy the pictures,” Blaine said grimly.

  “Hey.” She put a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing to be done about it yet. Leave it to your agent.”

  She was right. No point calling Stephanie and trying to back himself out of anything if the photos never surfaced. And it wasn’t like it was a British reporter. His agent could deal with it through the hotel’s management and cut it off before any photos made it into the hands of the tabloids. That’s what he paid him for.

 

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