by Anna Durand
He nodded slowly. "Okay. But why did it take you so long to show up here? I mean, if you really like my daughter you should've come home with her in your jet."
Keely tensed even more, her fingers crooking into her thighs.
I squeezed her hand and caressed it with my thumb. "Keely was anxious to come home, and I had business to finish up before I could follow."
Keely's friend Serena shook her head, a slight smile on her lips. She must've known Keely had refused to get involved in anything more than a fling with me.
Serena's son lodged his elbow on the table and propped his head on his fist. "Are we gonna eat this century? I'm starving."
His mother shot him a chastising look. "Chase, don't be rude. And get your elbow off the table. We're guests, and we'll eat when our hosts are ready for us to eat."
"We eat here all the time. Since when are we guests?"
"Since tonight. Apologize to our hosts for being disrespectful."
The boy bowed his head, seeming well chastened, and mumbled, "Sorry, Keely. Sorry, Mr. O'Shea."
Gary made a dismissive noise.
"Oh!" The word burst out of Keely. "I didn't finish the introductions. Evan, this is Serena Carpenter and her son, Chase. Serena is Dad's home care nurse, but we've been friends since high school."
I half rose and leaned across the table to shake Serena's hand. When I offered my hand to Chase, his eyes widened.
The laddie gawped at my hand for a moment, then gingerly shook it. "Nice to meet you."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carpenter."
"Mister? Nobody's ever called me that."
"You seem mature enough to deserve it. Formality is a show of respect."
He gawped again, fleetingly this time. "Thanks, Mr. MacTaggart."
"Since I'd like us to be friends, maybe we should be less formal. You can call me Evan."
"Cool. You can call me Chase."
With the introductions done, we all settled in for a dinner prepared by Keely. Back in Scotland, she had cooked for me once. Tonight's feast outdid our picnic along the River Ness, at least in terms of the food.
After sampling all the offerings, I leaned in to tell Keely, "This is the best food I've had in years."
"Thank you. I don't do fancy stuff, but I manage with the basics."
"Basics? This is a feast fit for kings. You are a superb cook."
"You're only saying that because---" She noticed her father watching us and wriggled, clearing her throat. "Because we're dating."
I suspected she'd been about to say something inappropriate for a family gathering.
After dinner, I tried to help clean up but was summarily informed by Keely that guests did not have to pitch in. Serena insisted Keely should stay with the "guest of honor" while she and her son handled clearing the table and washing the dishes. When Gary excused himself to "hit the head," Keely jumped up, determined to help him.
He waved her away. "I can get myself to the bathroom, kiddo. Been doing it all day every day while you're at work. Haven't needed help for a long time."
The man did have well-developed arm muscles that strained his short-sleeve shirt. I had no doubts Gary could take care of himself.
Keely seemed doubtful, though. "You might fall."
"For Pete's sake, Keely, I don't need a mother hen." He cast a sly glance at me. "Why don't you see if Evan needs help? I'm sure he'd appreciate your nurturing instincts."
"Aye, I would."
"There ya go." Gary slapped his hands on the wheelchair's arms. "It's settled."
Keely's shoulders sagged. She had apparently realized the futility of arguing with her father, who seemed as stubborn as his daughter. She returned to her chair and slumped onto it.
Gary rolled out into the hallway.
I draped my arm over the back of Keely's chair and slanted in to whisper in her ear. "You can nurture me all ye like."
"Uh-huh."
"What were you about to say before you stopped yourself? After I said you're a superb cook."
Keely eyed me sideways, her frown twisting upward. "I almost said you're only saying that because you want to get laid."
"Love to get laid, but we have an agreement. Our ten days aren't up yet."
"Unfortunately." She sank back into her chair, letting out a long breath. "Thank you for being so gracious with my dad, and with Serena and Chase. They like you a lot."
"I like them too. Thank you for inviting me to dinner."
She laid a hand on my leg, sliding it down to my inner thigh, and massaged my flesh with her delicate fingers. "Couldn't we forget the ten-day agreement? You look so good tonight, I've been incredibly horny all through dinner."
Gary wheeled back into the dining room.
Keely's cheeks turned pink. With a nervous little laugh, she said, "Dad, I didn't hear you coming. Must've gotten those wheels greased, huh?"
Gary took his position at the head of the table. "I heard a rumor there's dessert."
Keely gave me a questioning look.
If she'd hoped I could clear up the mystery of whether her father had heard our discussion a moment ago, I had no help to offer. The man seemed to have a wheelchair equipped with stealth technology.
Serena and Chase returned then, carrying plates loaded with cake and ice cream.
The next evening, on our sixth date, we ordered pizza and had it delivered to my motel room. We sat on the floor eating, joking, and generally enjoying each other's company. Keely told me funny stories about her family, and I told her about some of the crazy antics my cousins had gotten up to over the years.
"Why don't you talk about your childhood?" she asked after wolfing down a large bite of pizza. "I know all about your cousins, but I'd like to know more about you. What did little Evan do for fun?"
"He played with broken televisions and radios. When I was ten, my aunts and uncles banded together to buy me my first computer since my mother couldn't afford it. That's when I started trying to write code. I've never been adept at it, though."
"Didn't you ever have fun?"
"Creating something new out of something old was fun for me."
She set down her fourth slice of pizza. "Come on, Evan. You must've done something other than writing computer code and tinkering with dead electronics."
"I never had any real friends, but my cousins would invite me over to play games with them." I bit off a mouthful of my food, the cheese stretching instead of breaking. I snapped the cheese string with my finger and slurped it into my mouth. Keely smiled and laughed. I loved making her smile. After consuming the bite of pizza, I said, "My cousins tried to teach me to play shinty, but I never took to the game. They still keep trying to get me to join their matches when they play against the Buchanans."
"What is shinty?"
"It's similar to lacrosse and field hockey, but not exactly like either. We carry sticks called camans and try to knock a ball around and stop the other side from getting it."
"You don't like the game."
"The game is fine. What I don't like is how inept I am at it."
"But you're supposed to be having fun with your cousins." She tipped her head to the side. "Or do they razz you about not being a star player?"
"No, they never do that."
"Then stop worrying and just enjoy it."
While I gnawed on another slice of pizza, I considered Keely. "When was the last time you did something purely for fun?"
"I took a vacation in Scotland."
"You started it as a business trip. Your holiday was a second thought, and you only had a good time because I forced you to."
"Forced me?" She snatched up her pizza slice and shoved it into her mouth, tearing off half the slice and chomping on it. Her voice was muffled by the enormous chunk of food in her mouth. "I know how to have a good time, with or without you."
"Name one thing you've done strictly for the fun of it without me."
S
he gulped down her food and ripped off a much smaller bite. While she chewed, her eyes narrowed as if she were pondering her response. She raised a finger. "I went to the Louvre when I was in France last year."
"A museum?" I said in a mock scoffing tone. "That's not real fun."
"You love museums."
"That's irrelevant."
She devoured the last of her fourth slice of pizza and wiped her hands with a napkin. "Okay, Mr. Smart-Ass MacTaggart, tell me one thing you've done strictly for fun without me."
"That's easy. I let my thirteen-year-old cousin, Malina, teach me how to use a pogo stick."
"You played with a teenage girl?"
"She's my cousin, and she insisted I had to learn to bounce around on a small stick."
"But did you enjoy it?"
I contemplated the pizza slice in my hand. "Yes, I did. Donnae go telling my other cousins I liked it, or I'll never hear the end of it."
"You're implying I might meet them sometime."
"Would you want to meet my family? It's a bit larger than yours."
She picked up a napkin and dabbed at her mouth, though she had no food there. "How do you think your mother would feel about you dating an older woman?"
"My mother does not choose my girlfriends for me."
"Thought you'd never had a girlfriend. I'm too old to be called that, anyway."
I dumped my pizza slice back into the box, my appetite gone. "You are the first woman I've genuinely dated, the first I've been interested in dating. But you are not too old to be anyone's girlfriend. What would you rather I call you?"
"Not sure."
"How about Mrs. MacTaggart?"
"Oh please. We've known each other for a couple of weeks." She waved a hand as if to shoo away the idea. "I know you're not serious. You're teasing me again."
I hadn't been serious at first, not until she'd dismissed the idea like it was pure nonsense. "What if I am serious?"
"You're talking to someone who's been divorced twice. What makes you think I ever want to go through that again?"
"Maybe I could understand better if you told me about your second ex-husband."
"Not now."
"When?"
She got up and brushed off her pants. "I should get home. It's late."
I realized she wasn't going to tell me anything tonight. My pseudo-proposal had knocked her off balance, and considering her two failed marriages, I couldn't blame her for being uneasy. Maybe tomorrow she would tell me about scunner number two.
She let me kiss her good night---a relatively chaste kiss by our standards---and then she left.
I lay awake for a long time wondering if I had been serious about wanting to marry her. Did I love Keely? We'd known each other for such a short time. All I knew for certain was that I wanted her in my life for longer than a few weeks. She meant more to me than a sexual partner or even a casual affair.
About time I proved that to her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Keely
On the tenth day since we'd made our no-sex pact, Evan clomped into my office, shut the door, and flopped onto the sofa. He spread his arms over the sofa's back, plunking his feet on the table, and crossed his ankles. "Tonight, we're fucking."
I spun around in my desk chair to face him. "We are at work. No sex talk in the office."
"Maybe we should do it right now." He made a deep growly noise in his throat. "Not sure I can look at you for much longer without shoving your skirt up and having ye on that desk."
And of course, my body sizzled to full awareness of him. Memories of all the times he'd taken me rushed through my mind, and wetness blossomed between my thighs. My gaze gravitated to his groin and the swelling bulge that stretched his tan slacks. My mouth watered. I'd wanted to take him in my mouth on that first night after he showed up in town. There in his motel room, I'd promised I would do it if he talked to me. We'd gotten distracted by our emotional confessions and I didn't get the chance.
He was right here. Aroused. Hardening. His gaze burning into me like he wanted to devour every inch of my body.
I couldn't. Not in my office.
Evan wet his lips with one long, slow glide of his tongue. "You're wearing the outfit you had on the first day you walked into my office. That blouse gets tighter when you move or when you lean forward like you're doing now. Almost looks like the buttons will pop loose and the fabric will fall open. Makes me want to go over there and suck one of your stiff little nipples into my mouth."
I glanced down to see I had tilted forward just enough to make my shirt tighten. My nipples had gone hard, and my breasts ached. I longed to rip off my shirt and bra, to let Evan do whatever he wanted to me.
"We're at work," I said. Why did my voice sound husky? It was inappropriate. At work, I maintained my boss-to-employee demeanor.
Except with Evan. He made me want to be inappropriate anytime, anywhere.
His phone jingled. He dug it out of his pocket, checked the screen, and frowned.
"Bad news?" I asked.
"No, it's nothing." He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, and his sensual smile returned. "What were we talking about? Oh yes, how I'm going to ravish you."
"You should get back to work."
"Come over here and I'll gladly get to work---on removing your clothes."
"I have a better idea." I walked to the door, engaged the lock, and ambled over to the sofa to stop in front of Evan. Inch by inch, I lowered myself to kneel between his legs with my hands spread on his thighs. "Remember the first night in your motel room?"
"Yes."
"Remember what I promised I'd do if you answered my questions?"
"Aye." His gaze was locked on mine, and his chest rose and fell with breaths that grew heavier by the second. "I remember."
"It's about time I fulfilled that promise."
His brows rose. His lips kinked into a smile of anticipation and surprise.
"Don't look so shocked," I said as I unhooked the button on his slacks. "I'm an older, experienced woman."
"That does have its benefits, eh?" He rested his hands on the cushions at either side of his thighs. "You're not shy about anything, are you? That's part of what makes you a fantastic lover."
"Only part of it?" I took hold of his zipper. "What's the rest?"
"Your enthusiasm, your energy, your bossiness." He exhaled a long, groaning sigh while I eased his zipper down. "And I love how wet you always are for me. But my favorite part is the way you come, like it's the first time you've ever had an orgasm and you can't believe how good it is. You abandon yourself to the feeling and let it take over. Keely O'Shea in the throes of a climax is the most erotic thing I've ever seen."
I paused in pulling down his zipper and rolled my eyes up to see him. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Do you think I'd lie?"
"No, but---" I swallowed against a constriction in my throat. "Other men haven't been as complimentary about having sex with me."
"I'd like to know more about that. Your relationships with those other men, I mean. Every one of them sounds like a bod ceann."
Bod ceann. What a strange and endearing term for a dickhead. I couldn't help smiling. "Think I'll be using that word a lot. I can insult people and they won't have a clue they're being insulted. But let's save the discussion of my exes until later."
"Keely---"
I flattened the heel of my hand over the firm bulge of his erection trapped inside his pants. I rubbed up and down until he winced. "Talk later."
"Aye," he hissed. "Later."
With my thumb and forefinger, I grasped his zipper again and pulled it down, revealing his beautiful, naked dick. "Thought you ditched the underwear only in your off hours. You're at work today."
"Needed to feel you around my cock as soon as possible. Shorts get in the way."
"Damn, I wish this was Monday so I could lift your skirt for a change."
"The o
nly time I wear a kilt on a day other than Monday is when I'm at home with my cousins."
I wanted to know more about that, about why he'd called the place where his cousins lived "home" instead of Inverness. He lived there almost exclusively as far as I knew. I didn't know as much as I wanted to know about him, considering I'd agreed to this dating thing.
At the moment, I had a more pressing task that demanded my full attention.
Taking his cock in my hand, I blew a breath across the head and curled my fingers around its impressive girth. His head fell back against the sofa. I slid my fist up and down his length. His mouth was open, and his eyes were half closed. I pumped slowly, methodically, watching his every reaction. My nipples pushed against my bra, their tips so rigid they ached, the friction arousing me even more. His fingers clenched the cushions. His breaths grew uneven, coming faster and harder.
A drop of moisture poised on the head of his erection. I licked it away and sealed my mouth around the tip.
He made a choked noise.
"Mmmm," I purred, "you taste better than an ice-cream sundae."
I cupped his sac with one hand, holding the base of his shaft with the other, and took his length deep into my mouth. His back arched. I moved my mouth up and down, alternately licking and sucking, loving the taste of him and the firmness of his erection, the velvety smoothness of his flesh and the way he hissed in each breath through his gritted teeth. I rubbed the flesh between his sac and his ass. His entire body jerked. His mouth open, he hauled in heavy breaths and bucked his hips every time I sank my mouth over his cock. When I began to glide my hand up and down in time with the thrusts of my mouth, he flung a hand up to grip the sofa's back and plowed the other hand into my hair.
"Christ," he spluttered. "Keely, I---bod an Donais."
Pulling my mouth away, I milked him with my hand.
His cheeks had gone ruddy. His gaze was glued to me, his chest heaved, and I knew from the tension in his body that he was on the edge.
And I burned to push him over it.
I raked my tongue over his head.
His fingers in my hair crooked into my scalp, scraping it, the action enough to expose his need but not enough to break the skin. "Keely, I cannae---ye donnae have to---ahhh."