Insatiable in a Kilt

by Anna Durand

  Yes, he'd needed to explain that a poke meant sex.

  The way his fingers moved, manipulating tiny electronic parts, it was impressive to say the least. I'd never imagined the billionaire CEO of any company would get hands-on like that to solve a production issue. Evan was the most unusual man I'd ever met.

  Once he'd finished his work, I'd told him, "That was amazing, how you jury-rigged those components and saved the day."

  His mouth tightened. "The components are not jury-rigged. They're manufactured to the same high standards as any other components we use in production."

  "I didn't mean it as an insult. You overlooked the part where I said I'm impressed. There's nothing sexier than a man who can build things with his hands, whether those things are made of wood or wires and circuits."

  His mood had improved after that compliment, and for the rest of the afternoon, he'd shown me the inner workings of the first factory his company had ever built. It now had four siblings. Evan had slyly offered to show me all of those sites too, which would've required me to stick around for two weeks instead of one. Oh, he was a genius at negotiation. His offer intrigued me, because he intrigued me, but I declined. If I spent too much time with Evan, I might begin to want more than sex. No more dating, no more relationships.

  If I needed to repeat that to myself, I might have a problem.

  A knock at the door surprised me out of my reverie.

  I sat up, acutely aware I was dressed in a white terrycloth robe and nothing else. My hair, still wet from my shower, had dampened the pillow and the shoulders of the robe. Who would be calling on me at ten o'clock?

  The visitor knocked again, and a familiar voice said, "Keely?"

  Evan.

  Jumping off the bed, I cinched my robe's belt tighter and padded to the door. I swung it open, not at all surprised to see him but stunned by his casual demeanor. He wore cargo pants and a blue polo shirt that complemented his eyes. A pair of well-worn leather hiking boots covered his feet. His short hair managed to be mussed like he'd run his fingers through it too many times.

  He leaned against the doorjamb. Gone was his air of confidence and determination. Tonight, he seemed like an average guy who'd knocked on the door of a woman who refused to date him.

  He looked sexy as hell.

  "Did I wake you?" he asked.

  "No, I was up."

  His gaze traveled down my body and back up to my face. "You're wet."

  That was all it took to make his statement true. My hair was wet, but other parts of me had gone slick in ways that had nothing to do with cleanliness. "I got out of the shower a few minutes ago."

  "Fresh and clean. I bet you smell good too." He pushed away from the jamb. "May I come in?"

  "It's late, Evan."

  "Are you sleepy?"

  Not in the slightest, especially since I'd opened the door and seen him. My body awakened in his presence, and the rest of me followed suit.

  He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. "You don't trust me because of Paris. I understand that, but I'd like a chance to make it up to you."

  "Make it up to me?"

  "Please, Keely, let me come inside and I'll explain."

  Let him into my hotel room? Ten feet from a bed? That sounded like a very bad idea.

  Oh for heaven's sake, we were both adults. I could control my lust for the five minutes it might take him to apologize again or say whatever it was he intended to tell me.

  Sure, like I'd controlled my lust in his office this afternoon.

  "You can slam the door in my face," he said, "but I'll wait out here until you let me in. I'm persistent, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "I've noticed." What the hell, I told myself. The worst that might happen was we had sex. Serena kept insisting I needed to get laid. So, I swung the door wide and spread an arm in invitation. "Come on in."

  Evan walked past me, halfway to the bed, and stopped.

  Shutting the door, I approached him. "Well? What is it you wanted to say?"

  "I'm sorry, but I've told you that already." He ran a hand over his cheek. "I want to show you I'm not a bastard. What I did last year, that was an aberration. Let me prove it to you."

  "Not sure how you can do that tonight. It'll take time."

  "Whatever it takes, I'll do."

  "Answering a few questions might be a good start." I clutched the collar of my robe with one hand. "Why did you run away? Why did you skip out on the conference? And why weren't you wearing your glasses that night?"

  "You're referring to Paris. I took my glasses off when I saw you but before you saw me. It was a vain impulse to hide the fact I'm not perfect." He ducked his head, kicking at the carpeting with the toe of one boot. "As for the rest, I'd never done anything like that before. Meant to take you to my hotel, but I couldn't wait that long, I had to have you. Once it was over, I realized what I'd done and I…needed to get away so I could think and figure out why I'd done it. Still don't know the answer. As for the conference, I couldn't think about giving a speech when all I wanted was to find you. Couldn't do it, though. Without knowing your name or even where you were staying, I had nowhere to start."

  What might've happened if he had found me? He'd told me women confused him, and he seemed genuinely baffled by his own behavior too—in Paris and in his office this morning. From what I'd seen today, he was the most self-contained person I'd ever met. I could believe he honestly didn't know why he'd done the things he'd done with me.

  He moved closer, and his voice turned sultry, soft, and rough. "I made you a promise in Paris. Tonight, I mean to keep it."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I promised I'd make love to you all night."

  Excitement sizzled through me at the mere thought of it. Evan. In bed. Naked and gorgeous, determined to spend all night proving himself to me with steamy sex.

  No, I couldn't.

  Maybe if he understood the parameters, understood this did not mean we were dating or otherwise involved in a romantic way…

  He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

  My whole body slackened. I parted my lips, all but begging him for more. His tongue slipped inside, gently stroking and exploring, inciting me to plow deep into his mouth.

  Evan broke the kiss. "Should I leave? If I stay, I will be making love to you all night."

  Tell him it's just sex. Tell him quick.

  My vocal cords had a mind of their own. "Stay."

  He untied the belt of my robe, letting it fall away, and slid his hands inside the terrycloth to push the robe off my shoulders. It flumped to the floor. He drank in the sight of my naked body, muttering words I didn't understand, possibly another Gaelic oath.

  "You are perfect," he said. "Breathtakingly beautiful."

  Even if I'd been able to speak, I had no clue what I would've said in response. My body knew what to do. It softened and warmed even more, angling forward to get closer to him.

  He picked me up and carried me to the bed, laying me down on it. "I always keep my promises, even if it takes me ten months."

  My voice had abandoned me. I lay there watching him undress, my rapt attention focused on his every movement as he whipped his shirt off over his head, kicked off his shoes, and shed his pants. He removed his glasses, setting them on the bedside table.

  "No underwear?" I asked while he removed his socks.

  "Only wear them when I'm at work. On my own time, I prefer to go without."

  "So, if I see you wearing a kilt after hours, you'll be buck naked underneath it."

  "Aye."

  I had no chance to absorb that fact. The sight of his naked body mesmerized me. Evan was the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on, from his broad shoulders and thick biceps to his muscular chest and defined six-pack abs. I roved my gaze down his belly to his hips and those well-developed thighs, and further to his strong calves and large feet. Sandy hair dusted his legs,
and on his chest, the hairs tapered down to a tantalizing trail that led straight to his dick.

  My mouth watered. His cock was thick and long, the skin sleek—and velvety smooth, I imagined, though I'd find out soon enough. His rigid length curved up toward his belly, the tip already rosy. I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight and dry. He'd said he wanted to make love to me all night. Make love. It implied things I didn't want to think about, things neither of us could feel yet, but things that made my tummy flutter and trickled unease through me.

  Evan swung his leg over my body to straddle me on all fours.

  "Listen to me," I said, "this is not—"

  He covered my mouth with his own, holding his lips against mine for several seconds. When he peeled them away, he did it little by little. "Shhh, lass. Let me show you who I really am."

  I'd known him for one day, and I would leave at the end of the week. He didn't need to show me anything or prove anything to me. Maybe I should've told him to leave, but our encounter in his office this afternoon had left me wanting more.

  More sex. That was all.

  I reached down to close one hand around his shaft, sliding it up and down. Oh yes, velvety smooth.

  Evan grasped my hand and pried it away from his flesh. "Not yet. I'm in charge tonight."

  A shiver whispered through me, warm and sensual, erasing all my doubts. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted to relinquish control to the beautiful, naked man hovering over me.

  "Do it," I said. "Command me."

  Chapter Eight

  Evan

  I kissed her again, softly, tenderly, painting lighter kisses on her cheek and jaw as I worked my way down to her slender throat and lower to her chest. Her skin tasted clean and delectable, fresh from her shower, but she smelled of desire—musky, sweet, more tempting than any woman had a right to be. I wanted to bury my face between her thighs and gorge myself on her until she came apart beneath me, her body dissolving into the sheets and her cries echoing off the walls. She was luscious in every way, a decadent feast I hadn't gotten enough of in my office this afternoon. I needed more of her, all of her, with a lust so all-consuming I couldn't fight it even if I'd wanted to try.

  Make love to her, that's what I'd promised to do. What the bloody hell did I know about making love to a woman? I fucked them. They knew not to expect more. I didn't stay the night or contemplate the curves of their bodies or get drunk on the scent of them. But for the second time, I'd told her I wanted to stay with her all night.

  This woman deserved more than I knew how to give. From what she'd said about her exes, she needed to be with a man who would treat her like a treasure instead of an albatross around his neck. I would've gladly let her wrap those legs around my neck, though, while I coaxed her into the first of several climaxes. She would come for me until I let her stop, and I would do that only when she'd surrendered everything to me, spent and satisfied in every way.

  Her skin warmed my lips as I traced a path down between her breasts. Her nipples had already puckered and swollen into taut peaks I hungered to devour. I grazed my mouth over her skin, following the swell of her breast until I found the tip. I flicked my tongue out to tease the areola, dancing it in leisurely circles around her nipple without ever brushing it, relishing the way her breaths quickened and her back arched like her body was begging for me to swallow her nipple.

  "Mmmm," I hummed against her skin, my mouth hovering over the dusky tip.

  She wriggled. "Suck on it, please."

  I chuckled, my breaths reflecting off her skin. "At least you say please when you're telling me what to do."

  "I'm bossy, you know that. This shouldn't be a surprise."

  "Not surprised." I nipped her skin. "Enchanted. But you agreed to let me control this, control you."

  "Shut up and make me come."

  I slapped her hip. "Behave, Keely."

  "You're stealing my line."

  She squirmed, and her hips lifted just enough to give me a stronger whiff of her arousal. I dragged in a deep breath, savoring the scent of her, knowing she would taste even sweeter. My cock rubbed against her belly when she wriggled again. The feel of her soft, heated skin on mine was almost too much to take, and I couldn't wait any longer.

  "Donnae worry," I murmured. "I'll give you what you need. In my own time."

  Her impatience was my opportunity. I caught her nipple between my teeth and tugged, then raked my tongue over the peak.

  She gasped.

  I sealed my mouth around her nipple, suckling it gently until her back bowed up into me again and she shut her eyes, her lips parted. The pleasure on her face made me harder—impossibly, painfully hard—but I kept suckling and licking until I knew she was on the edge. She fisted her hands in the sheets, her head thrown back and her neck arched.

  A long, deep moan resonated through her.

  I surged up to plant an open-mouth kiss on her throat, feeling her pulse throbbing beneath her skin. I dragged my lips lower and lower until my face was between her breasts, lower still to skim my lips over her navel and keep traveling down and down until the hairs of her mound tickled my chin. She writhed beneath me. I feathered kisses over her skin, tracing a line over her hip even while my hands wandered down her thighs to slip between them and I eased her legs apart.

  "Yer skin's so soft," I murmured against her flesh. "And yer scent makes me starved for the taste of ye."

  She panted softly like she couldn't take in a whole breath. I tasted and caressed every inch of her skin that I could reach, determined to give her all the pleasure I'd denied her in Paris. I crawled backward along her body and dipped my head between her thighs.

  "Oh God," she groaned. "Screw me already or get the hell out of here."

  "Donnae worry. When I command ye to come, ye will."

  "You're so full of it. Nobody orgasms on command."

  "Ah, but you will." I nuzzled the curly strands on her mound.

  She thrust her fingers into my hair. "Then say it. Please."

  I sealed my mouth around her stiff nub, lapping and nipping even while I hooked my hands under her knees and urged her to bend them.

  She thrashed, gripping the pillow, her teeth clenched from the urgency to find release.

  I sat back on my heels, kneeling between her legs.

  She scowled at me. "You stopped."

  "Very observant of you." I coasted my hands up her calves and over her knees, smiling when she huffed and twisted her leg to kick me in the erse. "Impatient?"

  "Yes. Get back to it."

  "No more saying please, eh?" I let my hands roam over her thighs, exploring her silken skin while she kept glaring at me. "You are the most demanding woman in the bedroom. I like it, but you'll need to learn a little patience."

  She groaned in frustration. "Screw me and get it over with."

  My hands went still. Did she expect me to do this like I had in Paris? Quick and dirty, then gone? No, not this time.

  I patted her hip. "I'll let you rest and catch your breath for a minute."

  "Don't you dare."

  I bent to kiss her belly. "Relax, mo leannan. You're going to come for me so hard ye willnae be able to move or speak for at least five minutes after."

  "Oh please. Nobody's that good in bed."

  "Soon enough, you'll learn never to doubt what I say."

  I leaned over the side of the bed to find my pants and get what I wanted. Straightening, I held up the condom packet between two fingers. "Almost ready."

  She watched with slitted eyes, her cheeks pink and her lips pinched, while I covered myself with the condom. Keely O'Shea was the only woman I'd ever met who could look aroused and annoyed at the same time.

  I cupped her with one hand, slipping my fingers between her folds, and held my hand there until she squirmed. Her tongue swept out to moisten her lips, and her breasts rose and fell with every breath. I pushed two fingers into her core, coaxing a moan out of her. She was wett
er and hotter than this afternoon when I'd tasted her, so wet the scent of it drugged me. I closed my eyes to inhale the aroma of her.

  She jerked her hips up, forcing my fingers deeper inside her body. "Do something."

  "Not yet."

  I pulled my hand away and licked my fingers one by one, slowly, savoring the flavor of her desire. Spread out beneath me, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, from her full breasts to her flat stomach to her bonnie little toes that kept wriggling. Her lips had darkened to a deep shade of rose, and the haze of lust shimmered in her eyes. How could I have ever run away from this woman?

  "Please," she moaned.

  "Well, since you asked politely…"

  I hoisted her knees onto my shoulders and thrust into her.

  She clenched the pillow, her mouth falling open.

  The soft, slick heat of her felt so good around me I had to force myself to take deep, slow breaths. No repeats of Paris. This would last longer than a minute, as long as I could stand it before the feel of her pushed me over the edge. I braced my hands at either side of her body and pumped in and out, my pace deliberate, determined to show her I'd keep my promise.

  She tried to lift her hips into my thrusts, but she couldn't get leverage with her knees over my shoulders. A frustrated noise burst out of her.

  I rolled my hips into her, plunging deep with each push into her exquisite body and withdrawing almost completely with each backward motion. Pulling out of her was torture, but every time I sank deep into her hot sheath my eyes almost rolled back into my head. I'd never wanted a woman like this. What was she doing to me? I never lost control, never had to fight my own lust to make sure my lover got what she needed. The longer I fought to keep the pace unhurried, the more I wanted to go faster, punch harder, nail her to the mattress again and again until we both blew apart.

  Keely gasped, whimpered, gasped again.