Highland Fling (7 page)

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Authors: Shelli Stevens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #friends to lovers, #Brothers, #Whidbey Island, #Scotland, #Small Town, #pub, #Suspense, #The McLaughlins, #Scottish

BOOK: Highland Fling
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“Thank you, on the first part. But answer me this. Do you see me leaving with these such females?”

Why had she started this conversation again? She hesitated. “Well, no. But maybe you arrange meetings later—”

“I don’t.” His jaw flexed. “And you should just stop while you’re ahead, lass.”

Being called “lass” made her feel like she was about eight years old and he was talking to a child. But then, the glare he directed at her now was a pretty good indication he thought this conversation was childish. And it probably was.

“I just wanted to make sure. My life is already on hold, and I hate the idea that I’m interrupting yours too,” she finished lamely.

He abandoned whatever task he’d been doing with the alcohol and closed the distance between them. She was already against the back counter and had nowhere to move but to the side, but she held her place.

“I don’t need to shag constantly like some randy college boy, Lana. Aye, I love sex, what man doesn’t?” His hands closed over the counter on either side of her body. “But I’m picky about who I go to bed with, and right now I’m holding out for one in particular.”

The hair on the back of her neck lifted and her pulse quickened. “Are you now?”

“Aye. She’s a stunner. Cheeky. Confident.” His head dipped so his lips were near her ear. “Has an incredible arse I keep imagining in my hands.”

The blood in her veins turned to liquid heat and she closed her eyes momentarily. His breath was warm against her ear, and even though they weren’t touching, she was utterly aware of his tall, broad-shouldered body just inches from hers.

“This is so inappropriate,” she muttered raggedly. “You’re my boss.”

“Aye. We’ve discussed this, and no doubt I should leave you be. Say the word, and I’ll treat you as I would my sister.”

As uncertain as she was about getting involved with Aleck, the idea of a platonic relationship was more disappointing.

She gave a shaky laugh. “Well now you’re just talking nonsense.”

“Agreed.” He pulled back enough to stare down at her. “I’ll not rush you, Lana. When you’re ready, my bed will be waiting.”

He was so unapologetically blunt. It was both sexy as hell and aggravating.

“I want to,” she admitted, her voice low. “You know I do. But you’ve gotta realize I’m kind of a mess with my last relationship having ended abruptly with all kinds of drama.”

“I know. And let me repeat: I’ll not rush you. I’ll leave the ball in your court.” He touched her cheek, lightly, before moving away.

Just in time, as the customer who’d been playing pool in the next room arrived next to the bar.

“It’s getting mighty windy out there.” Old Man Cooper, a regular, dropped a twenty on the bar and shook his head. “My wife keeps texting me to come home—she’s a nag, all right. Guess there’s some trees down already. You kids be careful when you get out of here.”

Delonna gave a small smile. “I love how he always refers to his wife as a nag.”

“Aye, he does. But it’s all in a bit of fun. She’s a nice lady, who doesn’t come in much. But they’ve been married fifty-five years and are happy as can be.” Aleck gave the bar counter a smack. “Right then. I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

Delonna watched him disappear into the office portion down the hall near the bathrooms, and pressed a hand to her cheek. He’d only just touched her lightly, and still her body had responded.

When they finally locked up the pub and left to go back to his place, it became clear the windstorm was no light breeze. The hood of her sweatshirt was thrust off her head from a gust of wind, and it took serious momentum to walk against it and get to his truck.

Inside, the vehicle shook from the large gusts and she flinched each time it did.

“Blowy as fook out here,” Aleck muttered, starting the car. “Hope there’re no trees down on the way home.”

There weren’t any, fortunately, and she knew his house had none directly in its path either. So they were safe from any fear of branches falling once they got there. It was the drive that would be the dangerous part.

She watched the tall trees bending and waving in the wind, and a shiver of fear slid through her. Windstorms had always been a little terrifying, especially on this part of the island. Oak Harbor wasn’t really protected from the strong winds that could rush in off the straits.

When they reached his home she could see the waves crashing violently onto the large rocks nearby. They climbed out of the car and made a dash for it.

Once inside the house, Aleck locked the door behind him and rubbed his hands together.

“Quite cold out there, aye? Would you like some tea with a bit of whisky in it?”

“That would be great. But just a splash of whisky, please. I don’t sleep well if I’ve had too much. Which is backwards, I know.”

“Understood. Go make yourself comfy on the couch, find us a show and I’ll bring it out in a few.”

Chapter Seven

While waiting for the teapot to boil, Aleck went to turn up the heat a couple degrees to overheat the house a bit. There was a good chance they’d lose power tonight, and it would be better to have a surplus of heat to dwindle from when that happened.

When he brought the two steaming mugs to the living room minutes later, he found Delonna sitting on the couch, legs curled under her, with a blanket on her lap. She’d turned on some sort of thriller flick it appeared.

He joined her after handing her the mug. She scooted over slightly and pulled the blanket toward him.

“Here, have part of this, I’m easy.”

“Clearly you’re
not
all that easy,” he drawled, unable to help himself. He was rewarded with her elbow in his ribs and laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the movie and sharing a blanket, but not quite touching. He itched with the need to close those couple inches between them. To feel her hip brush against his.

It was nice having someone on the same internal clock as him. Not getting off work ’til the wee small hours of the morning meant it took an hour or two to unwind before he fell asleep. Which also meant he slept in longer than most people. All in all it had been a tricky thing when bringing women home. Which was one reason he really hadn’t, and had preferred to go to their place and slip out before dawn.

But it had been several months now since he’d been in that situation or even had a woman, and with Delonna’s soft, perfumed body so close to him, his cock was once again reminded of the fact.

Yet somehow, through the entire movie and the wind gusts shaking the house, he kept himself from touching her. He’d told her the ball was in her court, and hadn’t lied.

Her hand on his leg had him jerking in anticipation, but her accompanying words disappointed.

“I’m going to head to bed. Thanks for the whisky and company.” She hesitated, then brushed a kiss against his cheek.

Unable to stop himself, he caught the back of her neck and pulled her head back down. It was a short and sweet kiss. But it was a chance for him to touch her lips with his own again. To taste the hint of Earl Grey and whisky, and to hear her soft sigh of pleasure. But with a willpower he himself could never summon, Delonna pulled back and stood up.

“Good night, boss boy,” she said softly.

His lips twitched into a half smile. “G’night, Lana.”

And then she was gone, soft feet padding down the hall before the door to her bedroom clicked shut.

He finished his tea, grabbed their mugs and placed them in the sink, and went to bed himself.

The buzzing of his phone woke him up. Disoriented, he managed to surmise that the room was in complete darkness, and the light from the bathroom that usually shone under his door was missing.

It sank in that the power must’ve just gone out and his cell had buzzed as it stopped charging. Still in a groggy haze, he reached for his cell and glanced at the time. Nearly four thirty in the morning.

Closing his eyes again, he willed himself to fall back asleep. Another massive gust of wind rattled the windows and the house shook slightly. The sound of waves slamming into the beach accompanied the soundtrack of the storm.

It relaxed him, and kept him awake for a bit, because he loved a good windstorm.

The faint knock had his eyes opening and his brows drawing together. Had that come from outside his room or perhaps something against the side of the house?

When he took too long to decide, the door swung open and Delonna stepped into his room.

He sat up, his frown deepening. “Everything all right?”

She didn’t answer, but just darted across the room and climbed into his bed. Her bare feet were cold from the floorboards, brushing against his leg as he scooted over to make room for her.

“I hate storms. It’s stupid. I know it makes me a wimp,” she rambled quickly.

“No, not at all, luv. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, it’s embarrassing.” She shook her head. “I was eight when there was a bad windstorm, and a tree smashed through my bedroom. It missed my bed by just a foot.”

Shock pricked. “
Shite
. I’m sorry, luv. Thank God it missed you. With that happening, I’m surprised you don’t have a raving phobia of storms now.”

“I don’t really. Only now and then, when it’s particularly bad. Then the fear can flare up a little. Like it has tonight.”

He pulled her close, stroking a comforting arm down her back, and ready to let her go if she tried to pull away. But she snuggled closer, pressing her palm to his chest and her cheek to his shoulder.

“Thank you.” It was almost a whisper, but he’d heard it.

He turned his head to kiss her forehead lightly and her body relaxed even more against his.

“There are no trees to fall on my house,” he reassured her. “Just a bit of waves that might make it onto my porch.”

“I know.”

Another gust of wind rattled the house and he sensed her flinch in the darkness.

“Tell me something else about your childhood.”

In the darkness, he could sense her frowning. “My childhood was all right, but stressful moneywise.”

“Moneywise? You were a child, why even concern yourself with such things?”

She gave a short laugh. “Kind of hard not to when your house is foreclosed on and you’re essentially homeless.”

“Seriously? I’m sorry, Lana. How old were you?”

“Sixteen. Don’t sound so worried, we weren’t on the streets or anything.” She paused. “Well, I mean there were a few nights we slept in the minivan, but mostly we found places to crash.”

“With relatives?”

“We didn’t have a lot of relatives around here. The aunt we had was in a one-bedroom apartment. She took my younger brother in, but I had to figure out my own thing.”

Figure out her own thing? At sixteen? How in the fook…?

“My parents would sleep in the van quite a bit, but I’d try and find friends with couches to crash on for a week or two.” She gave a small shrug. “I had to lie, though. Say my parents were traveling or something. It was just too embarrassing.”

“How did it happen?” He needed to understand. Couldn’t fathom the image she painted. “Did your da lose his job?”

“Yeah, they both did when the recession hit. My parents weren’t big on saving, but were fantastic at spending. They blew their paychecks on things like expensive electronics and new cars they couldn’t afford.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry, Lana. It’s not something a child—and you were still a bloody child—should’ve had to face.”

“You’d be surprised how common it actually is.” She adjusted herself in his arms, tracing a finger over his naked chest.

“Clearly I need educating,” he murmured, more than a little disturbed at how his vision of whom the homeless were could be so narrow and ignorant.

“But I got through it okay. After about a year of being technically homeless, Dad got a job again. It didn’t pay nearly what he’d made before, but it was enough to get us into a cheap apartment. A year later, I was eighteen and moved out on my own. And now my parents are once again making good money, still blowing through it like it grows on trees.”

“They haven’t learned at all,” he murmured. “But you’ve been doing quite well on your own, from what I’ve seen.”

“Thank you. I try.” She paused. “It’s why I’m so stingy with my money, you know. Why I like to have cash on the side. The experience…the fear and humiliation, really hammered in that I never want to end up in that kind of situation again.”

“Completely understandable, and I’m so glad you’ve landed on your feet. You’re a smart kid, Lana.”

That earned him a light slap on the chest. “
Not
a kid. I already get enough remarks on my age from the gals. Not you too, please.”

He grimaced. “Ah, right. I meant it fondly. But consider me properly chastised and a lesson now learned.”

A gust of wind started, gaining speed and strength as it began to shake the house. The hardest gust all night. She tensed in his arms, only relaxing when it stopped.

“It’s late. You should go back to sleep,” he murmured. “I’ll hold you as long as you’d like.”

“I haven’t slept yet.”

He blinked in dismay. “Not at all?”

“No. I was wide awake and listening. I have a hard time sleeping through windstorms,” she said mildly, her leg tangling with his and her toes sliding over his calf.

His heart quickened.

“There was something about being woken up from a dead sleep when that tree hit my bedroom. I’m afraid, even now, to fall asleep when the wind is this bad. Even knowing there are no trees that could hit your house, my mind doesn’t rationalize.”

“I understand.” And he did. The sympathy he had for her made him press another kiss to her forehead, and keep running his hand lightly up and down her back in a light caress. “Just lie here then. Try and at least close your eyes.”

“What if I decided I didn’t want to just lie here and be held?”

“Then I’d let you go.” Reluctantly. Christ, but she felt a bit perfect in his arms. He liked having her here.

“No, I mean, you don’t necessarily have to let me go.” She paused, tracing his bare chest with a finger. “You could maybe just…adjust a bit so I can seduce you.”

He blinked, his cock going rock hard. What? He doubted he’d heard her right, even as he knew she realized exactly what she’d said.

“Lana, there’s no seduction necessary,” he said, his voice a bit ragged, as her hand began to travel south down his body.

“No?”

“But I’m happy just to hold you.”

“Well, you said the ball was in my court, and this could be a good distraction for me tonight.”

Did he want her when she was only looking to him as a distraction?

“I want this.” She sat up slightly so she could brush her lips over his nipple. “I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

Aye, hell yes he wanted this. Whether he was a distraction or not. When she kissed his nipple again a shudder of pleasure raced through him. Her hand had reached its destination, cupping him through his boxers as she explored his thickness and length. He nearly came on the spot.

“Maybe we should get you out of these.” She slid her hand beneath the shorts and he hissed out a breath. She paused, and even in the darkness he could sense her frown. “Oh God, talk about corn fed. You’re huge, Aleck.”

His laughter was strangled as he took charge and flipped her onto her back.

“If you keep touching me, I’ll likely last only minutes,” he rasped. “And right now, I’ve the mind to get in some exploration of my own.”

He pulled off the T-shirt she wore and groaned in appreciation as her breasts spilled free for his hands. He cupped them, discovering their firmness and teasing the nipples.

When she let out a sharp moan, he claimed it with his mouth. He wanted to taste her pleasure, and he drove his tongue past her lips as his body covered hers. Her arms eased around his neck and she kissed him back fervently, sucking on his tongue as her hips lifted against him in a silent plea. One he knew exactly how to answer.

He moved his hands beneath her arse, cupped the wonderful roundness there, before tugging the shorts and panties from her body. Sliding a palm between her legs, he rubbed the soft, damp mound of her sex, while tasting every inch of her mouth.

Her legs parted farther and she made a low, needy groan. He knew what she wanted—what he wanted—and slid a finger into her already slick channel.

She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. God, she felt incredible. So warm and already wet. He added another finger, stroking her deeper, until he could no longer resist taking it further.

He eased down her body, kissing her breasts and belly button, and finally the plump mound of her sex. She went still, seeming to not even breathe as he nuzzled the damp folds.

“Aleck,” she whispered, plunging her hands into his hair and lifting her hips. “Please.”

After a soft laugh, he parted the delicate flesh and eased his tongue in to find the spot guaranteed to set her on fire. Her sharp cry and the sensual taste of her only drove up his need to please her. To completely claim her in this way.

He teased her with his tongue. Sucking and flicking, all the while pressing a finger into her tight sheath.

All too soon her moans turned guttural and her body began to quake. She lifted her hips from the bed, crying out and digging her heels into the mattress.

Following her through the orgasm, he gentled his deliberate strokes. He switched to small, delicate kisses on her swollen clit as she let out a shuddering breath and her body went limp.

“Holy shit, boss boy,” she muttered, her words thick and drowsy. “I’m beginning to understand why the ladies love you McLaughlin men. Something in the water where you guys grew up in Scotland?”

“Oh, aye.” He laughed, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “Shall I stop there, luv?”

“Don’t you dare,” she murmured drowsily. “I’m looking for a home run tonight.”

“Quaint little term you Yanks are ever so fond of,” he drawled. “But I’m happy to oblige.”

And he was, what with a needy erection and a willing and ready woman in his bed.

“I’ll just grab a condom right quick.” He eased away from her, stumbling in the dark toward his dresser, whispering a savage, “
Shite
,” as his toe slammed into the corner of it.

He struggled to unwrap the condom and place it on, before making his way back to bed. Probably swaggering a bit as he did so, but shite it was finally about to happen.

He climbed back onto the bed, pressing a kiss to her belly. “Ready to get up close and personal with Mr. Corn Fed?”

No reply.

“Lana?”

Silence again, only to be broken by a soft snore.

He rocked back on his heels and sighed. Well fook it all. She’d fallen asleep.

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