Charming Scottish Bastard

by Melissa Blue

  Grant was too busy fighting the urge to ball a fist in her hair and make her promise she wouldn’t let anyone else do that to her until they were done with each other. It was taking all of his restraint to fight the need to murmur what they should do next—fuck. And fuck. And fuck.

  He pressed his mouth to her pounding pulse in her neck then right to the spot below her ear. She shivered, clutching at him, a whimper right there in her throat. He tried not to howl at the moon or something equally dramatic. He did wrap his arms around her to keep them as close as possible.

  “Grant?” She rocked into him, rubbing herself against his dick.

  If she did that again his cock would explode out of his jeans. “Aye,” he growled.

  Her hand slid between their bodies. He held his breath as she fumbled with his zipper. Grant let his hands drop down to her arse and squeezed, his absolute encouragement for whatever she wanted to do next. Her hands trailed over his cock and he was sure he’d gone blind at just how good that almost thoughtless touch felt. They both moaned when she cupped his balls.

  Don’t hope. Don’t wish. Don’t think. Despite what he’d done or how much she enjoyed it, reason and fear could drop in. Once again, her impulse to do exactly what she wanted in that moment with him could be bombarded with doubts.

  “Condom?” she whispered.

  Only a miracle kept him from dying of happiness on the spot. She’d leaned back to give him room, and to watch. He didn’t care she’d witnessed his trembling hands as he sheathed himself. Pride so often got in the way of pleasure. There was none left to be had as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, a fist then tugging at his nape, pulling his head back so their gazes met. Only sensation was left to be had as he guided her down on his cock. Her mouth parted, her lids swam low and then her eyes closed as she moaned. Who needed pride?

  Her pussy wrapped around him, so wet and snug and perfect. She tightened her inner muscles on the first upstroke, and then again and again. His dick had never been harder in his life.

  “Grant?”

  “Aye, lass?”

  She laughed softly. “I’m on my tip toes. I won’t be able to do this for long, but it—you feel so good.”

  “All you have to do is rock, and I’ll get us there the rest of the way.”

  It said so much she didn’t question how but just ground against him. He loosened his hold enough to free a hand. While she rocked, he worked the swollen nub between her legs in a hard, slow circular motion. She could have fucked him at that lazy pace all night and it would have been the best. He would have woken up in the morning torn between buying her flowers or diamonds.

  But Tasha couldn’t fuck him like this all night. Without a word, he changed the way he flicked his thumb over her clit. She matched him in that subtle shift, driving her body into him. Faster and faster. He knew she was close when she placed a hand over his to keep him still, to fuck both in a wild rush.

  He clenched his jaw, just trying to hold out from coming, because she had been close but he’d been at the brink since the second she asked if he liked her dress. Worse, better, the best…her fucking face. Her mouth wasn’t swollen from kisses like it should have been. Their gazes held as she bit down on her lip to hold in a moan. Her eyes speared through him as shock and then pleasure darkened her brown gaze.

  She was beautiful. She was fucking them both mindless. Heat crept to his face then flashed through his body. His balls cupped closer to her. He could only growl as pleasure beat at him and he held back. Tried so hard.

  “I want to feel you come, Tasha. I want your pussy to milk me. Drip every bit of come on my dick.”

  Her arousal spilled out like honey. Aye. Like that. He leaned close to her ear and finished the dirty word game from days before. She buried her face in his neck, a muffled scream leeching out as she shook through her orgasm. She felt so good, so tight, his body could only respond in kind. His hips bucked to meet her on the other side of pleasure until he was coming. He shook from it, and her arms squeezed him tighter to her.

  For a while they both just tried to catch their breath after that. To his surprise, she laughed and kissed his jaw. “I’m pretty sure the Baird heard all that.”

  He chuckled, having forgotten the man even existed. “Oh, he’d be proud, the pervy fucker.”

  She pulled back, and her eyes crinkled as she laughed again. “You’re probably right.”

  Something in his chest went all tight and warm. Since he didn’t want to be dramatic, he kissed her like he should have done when she had came.

  11

  T

  ook a minute for Tasha to remember why she was warm, as sleep clung to her like tendrils of a spiderweb. She cracked one eye open. First, she was not in her B&B that seemed to be a perpetual ice box. She was in Grant’s. They had the fluffiest, warmest down comforter on earth on top of them.

  She turned her head and almost laughed. There was also Grant keeping her warm. He had one arm slung over his face, his mouth was parted and his hair was a disheveled mess. Cute and utterly dangerous. No wonder Davina had headed for the hills after one night with the man.

  Very carefully, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her bag from the dresser, and went into the bathroom. Instead of pulling out her toiletries, she took out her phone. There was already a text from Mia.

  Mia: The Baird says he expects a full wipe down of the pub when you guys arrive. Why?!!

  Tasha: You know why heifer.

  Mia: SAY IT!

  Tasha: We’ll be in late.

  Mia: We…not the royal kind?

  Tasha: Not the royal kind.

  Mia: YASSSSSSSSSS. I’ll be nice and wipe everything down with industrial strength bleach and rubber gloves up to my neck. Have fun.

  She sat there a little longer, debating if she should text Mia again. Tasha didn’t know how she should feel or what she actually did feel.

  Vaguely, she could say she liked steady dick. The kind where you eat dinner or go to the movies, get back home, and bang each other’s lights out.

  Was Grant steady dick for her now? Did she want him to be? This was why she rarely took Mia’s grab life by the horns advice. It wasn’t always feasible or sustainable. Life got way more complicated. Monotony could bore her to death but she could depend on it not giving her an overthinking headache.

  She knew things about Grant that she should only know if they had been dating months. Things he would have told her in the dark of night while they were in bed, whispering old hurts that still haunted them. He knew exactly what to say to her when she got a little scared about living impulsively. Not even Mia or her mother had learned that trick.

  Tasha closed her eyes and just breathed. One thing at a time. She smelled like sex and not the oooh-naughty-giggle stage. She needed a shower. When they had stopped at her B&B, she had forgotten to grab her scarf or a bonnet. Her hair needed prayer and product. After that, she could worry about the rest.

  Thirty minutes later, and having wrangled her hair into a bun, she felt steadier. That was, until she had to face a wide-awake Grant. He sat on the edge of the bed, naked, with a phone in his hand. She’d expected a smile or some kind of warmth or maybe even a flirtatious greeting, but his expression was grim.

  “Should I take your current expression personally?”

  “No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “Anything I can do?”

  His jaw worked and he let out a frustrated breath. “No but thanks. It’s work.”

  “Which one?”

  He laughed and fell back on the bed. She did her very best to concentrate on his face, but the man’s dick was out. Before he could tell her “my eyes are up here” she focused on his face.

  “CFO duties. I expect Kincaid to wait for me to show up before he bombards me with anything.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. Once again, she had the urge to comfort him. Hell, to simply ask did he like being a CFO? He laughed with his brothe
r. He never laughed at his laptop. She wanted to tell herself it was basic human decency to know, to want to comfort. How could one ignore another person in distress? But they had had sex. It wasn’t simple anymore. They hadn’t talked about boundaries or the obvious fact she was here for a few months at the most.

  She’d used a clean face towel to brush her teeth. Getting to her B&B was kind of a priority, especially if she didn’t want to head into the Barrel wearing the clothes she’d had on the day before.

  The smart thing to do was to walk out the door.

  She focused on the door but her legs refused to move. That was just as well. “How about you get dressed and take me out for a brunch.”

  He opened his eyes to stare at her. “Have you had an official Scottish breakfast yet?”

  “I only vaguely know something called tatties are involved. I am hoping it’s not cow titties cooked in goat balls. Haggis sounds wild enough for tourist me.”

  “Tasha…” he started and then laughed.

  He sat up and rose from the bed. Her gaze dropped down because his dick was kind of perfect. She’d never tell him that, ever. He would be even more insufferable but…come on.

  He chuckled, all warm and low. “Unless there is some other Scottish delicacy you’d prefer?”

  That made it easy to meet his gaze. “Go moisturize.”

  He stopped in front of her, cupped her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. He sucked in a breath and then placed another one, this one softer. “Thanks, lass.”

  Why was her heart galloping? “For what?”

  “Distracting me instead of letting me fester.”

  Without another word he went into the bathroom. He spared her by closing the door. She plopped on the bed and tried her best to act like she wasn’t shaken to her core by the sweetness of his actions.

  “The Baird’s talk with you went in one ear and out the other?” Kincaid asked.

  To Grant’s surprise, his brother didn’t sound mad about it. He handed him another case of ale. The bottles rattled in the exchange. They’d left the women in the main pub, and he was sure Mia was getting an earful. The back room was hot, sticky and currently filled with all the brew his brother planned to take to the showcase.

  “Did you guys have a chinwag session this morning?” Grant said.

  “We were catching up over tea.” His brother sounded utterly disgruntled about it.

  Grant managed to hold back the smile. “More like he’d invited Mia up for tea and you followed.”

  His brother chuckled. “Aye, right. They gossiped. I listened.”

  “And?”

  His brother stacked the last the case. “I’ve been told to stay out of it.”

  “I see how hard you tried for all of five minutes.”

  “She’s not staying, you know that right?”

  “Very aware of that.”

  And he was. It was kind of interesting he wasn’t flipping the fuck out about that. He was self-aware enough to know the threat of someone he cared about leaving him was a sore spot. Maybe it was the shock that he cared about the lass that overshadowed anything else.

  And maybe he was okay about that because she wasn’t leaving him. She was going home. How could he begrudge her that?

  Kincaid sighed. “After the event, I want us to find two new employees. I don’t want to be in a fix again when things go sour between the two of you.”

  “Who says it will?” he asked without thinking.

  His brother glanced away. “When was the last time you had a relationship?”

  “Nine or so months ago.”

  His brother’s brows shot up and he faced him full on. “You didn’t tell me.”

  Grant shrugged. “It ended right before you came home.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “No. That’s why things ended.”

  His brother was looking at him as though this was the first time they’d ever met. “Have you ever loved someone?”

  Grant hated the question and he wanted to toy with Kincaid. “Define love.”

  “Och. I don’t know why I bother.”

  “I honestly don’t know why we’re talking about love in the first place. Did you love Mia after a week? A month? Did the word even cross your mind after you kissed? Fucked? So why are you obsessed with whatever is going on with me and Tasha?”

  Kincaid opened and closed his mouth. His brows knit before he simply nodded. “You’re right. I’m obsessing.” His brother balled a fist and tapped it along the bottle tops. “You’re not yourself, and I’m worried.”

  He huffed an annoyed breath. “What does that mean?”

  “You should be in London or New York. Or bothering our sister. Or Logan. You’re here. We’ve had loads of women coming in here every night looking to flirt or more, you didn’t pay attention to any of them. And then Tasha is the one you called to get us out of the fix. She’s the one you jump. So fine. Maybe I’m out of practice with this whole big brother thing. You tell me what’s going on with you.”

  He wanted to hug his brother but refrained. It had been a long while since someone had fussed over him. Twice in one day now and he didn’t know how to process it. He did what he always did in times like this—cut out the emotion and stated the facts.

  “Work hasn’t been the same without Marcus. He made takeovers fun. Now it’s just coming in and doing the job. I don’t think I like that. I don’t think I ever liked that part. I’ve been dealing with that and my uncertainty gave me a good excuse as any to come help out here at the pub. Lastly, I know you’re in love and engaged, but have you seen Tasha? Did you not see her in that dress last night?”

  Kincaid shook his head but a smile was spreading. “Och. You’re a shite.”

  “Thanks for reminding me though. I need to text our little sister. Have you heard from her lately?” Since his question wasn’t just a distraction, he pulled out his mobile.

  “Couple of days ago. She’s thinking of moving back.”

  Grant’s head popped up at that. “Aye?”

  “We’ll see. You know how she is. She gets homesick, and then remembers what it was like to grow up with us.”

  Grant shot off a quick text to confirm the rumor then turned his attention to Kincaid. His brother would only obsess if he was avoiding his own troubles. “While we’re on the subject of checking up on siblings. What day in my calendar should I block out for your wedding?”

  Kincaid scratched at his temple. “Things are busy.”

  “They’ll be forever busy, and miserable if you don’t take that woman down the aisle. That’s all I’m going to say. Godspeed.”

  “Why does your ‘godspeed’ sound like ‘you’re fucked and best of luck with that?’”

  “Because that’s the accurate interpretation.” He paused a moment. “Are we done talking about our feelings?”

  “Fuck. Aye. I’m sorry I ever brought up anything. We have six more crates to drag in from my car. Let’s do that, in silence.”

  “Let’s.”

  His brother abandoned his worry for work, but now that’s all Grant had.

  12

  G

  rant hated the nerves that took over after closing. He and Tasha had had brunch and everything had gone fine between them. They’d worked as usual which meant they’d flirted whenever they crossed paths. Why the unease now?

  He glanced at her over his laptop screen. Her back was to him. He stretched his neck to try to see what had her attention.

  “You know I can see you in the mirror, right?”

  He straightened, his face heated. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if we need more cranberry vodka. You?”

  He debated with himself for only a second about telling the truth. “Trying to figure out if you’ll be coming back with me to the B&B. I can’t read your mood.”

  She turned around, an iPad crooked in her arm. That distracted him long enough he missed her smile. The
n he smiled back.

  “Does that mean yes?” he asked.

  “It means I think you’re cute right now.”

  “Cute?”

  She rounded the counter, walking straight for him. He tried to keep the smile from turning into a shite-eating grin, but it was very hard.

  When she was close enough, she tipped his head back with her forefinger. “I think it’s cute you are worried I won’t want to go home with you. How long were you thinking about this?”

  “Ever since Mia and Kincaid left.”

  “You’ve been sitting for an hour in indecision?”

  “Aye.”

  She leaned down, barely pressing her lips to his. He stayed still, giving her the reins to make the kiss more or less as she wanted. He wanted more. He wanted…everything.

  Tasha pulled back. “Why are you so honest about emotional shit that can kick you in the teeth?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you are asking.”

  She dropped her hand. “It’s like you have zero fear of rejection.”

  He fisted a hand in her shirt to pull her closer. “Rejection stings, but I’ve found you are more likely to get what you want when you simply tell the truth.”

  “But there’s a difference in getting something, like an object or a company, and putting your feelings out there.”

  That gave him a thought. “What feelings are you hiding from me because of fear of rejection?”

  She scoffed. “That—I hate when you do that.”

  He tugged lightly on her shirt. “Let me kiss it better then.”

  “Later, when we get back to your B&B. I have to finish inventory.”

  He loosened his hold, and she retraced her path behind the counter. He noted but didn’t point out she didn’t answer the question.

  Felt like forever but was probably only thirty minutes before she put up the iPad and collected him so they could head back to his room. They had nothing but silence again as they walked down Glasgow streets. He shouldn’t have felt safe or something akin to comfort, but something about the simple fact of walking beside her centered him.