Daddy’s Kilted Friend

by Callahan, Kelli

  I can’t have her—but I can certainly think about it. Fantasy isn’t dangerous—it isn’t fire that could burn me alive…

  I let the water rinse away the soap and started slowly moving my hand along my engorged length. I felt like a teenager again, which was ironic, considering the lass teasing my thoughts was still one. I imagined those soft, pouty—so fucking perfect lips—teasing something other than the side of a cup of ale. Her promise echoed in my head—she would make it worth my while if I called her. Damn, if I didn’t want to do just that. A hot college student—far from home—looking to make a few mistakes. I wasn’t immune to lasses like that when I was a student myself. I just never expected to still be thinking about them when I was on the other side of thirty.

  “God damn…” I grunted and felt my balls starting to ache.

  It wasn’t the most pleasurable release, but it had been a while, which made me come pretty damn hard. The first couple of eruptions sent ropes of come at the wall, and the rest of it landed in the drain.

  I put my head against the wall, let the water rinse away my momentary desire, and then splashed the wall until the rest of it was gone. I thought that would be enough to make me forget about Amelia, but she was still on my thoughts, even after the endorphins had given me the rush I was searching for. I lathered up one more time, rinsed off, and flipped the shower knob until the water dissipated. My cock was still at half-mast, which suggested that it would have been perfectly fine with round two if I wanted to go for it.

  She needs to get the hell out of my head. Otherwise, I really am going to be a teenager again—jacking off multiple times a day just to keep from going insane.

  “I thought ye fell asleep in there lad.” My uncle chuckled as I stepped out of the bathroom.

  “We were both up late.” I walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.

  “There’s only one festival a year—it would be a disservice to William Wallace himself if we didn’t drink the night away in his memory.” My uncle looked up at me as I returned to the living room. “He’s yer ancestor too, ye know.”

  “Ye remind me of that regularly…” I sat down across from him and took a sip of my coffee.

  “I know it’s a bit foolish, but people recognize the name—the movie, ye know?” Uncle Douglas raised an eyebrow.

  “Aye.” I nodded. “Ye made me watch Braveheart all the time when I was younger.”

  “I hear they’re thinking about doing a remake.” He smiled. “They’re talking about casting that guy who plays Thor as our famous kinsman.”

  “Is this version going to talk about how he hid for years after he failed to liberate Scotland and Robert the Bruce had to finish what he started?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

  “That’s blasphemy, lad!” My uncle’s head snapped back.

  “It’s history…” I chuckled under my breath. “Ye just don’t like to tell that part of the story.”

  “He was a hero…” My uncle narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to stand. “Ye best remember that if yer going to be staying here.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend ye…” I stared at my uncle walking into his room and winced when he slammed the door.

  Oh well. Uncle Douglas knows I’m telling the truth, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

  My uncle had been spouting William Wallace lore for so long that he hadn’t bothered to keep up with the changing times. A Braveheart remake might bring the story to a new generation, but if he really wanted to impress the lasses, he could have talked about how the Wallace clan survived and fought in the battles detailed in the newest Scottish sensation, Outlander.

  All the lasses were in love with Jamie Fraser—not William Wallace. It didn’t matter if one was just fiction, and the other was based on a real person. Personally, I didn’t want to be with a lass that got wrapped up in fantasy because of my accent or the kilt I wore when an event called for it. I would gladly trade a million worthless nights for one that truly mattered.

  Fuck, now I’m thinking about Amelia again…

  I pulled out my phone and stared at Amelia’s number. There was a part of me that definitely wanted to dial it—to forget why a relationship with her would be so damn complicated. I might have let my lust take over in the shower, but I didn’t want a one night stand that didn’t mean anything when the sun came up.

  I had been down that road before and learned how crushing it truly was. There was never any peace—never any real satisfaction other than temporary bliss—and it certainly didn’t give way to love. It disguised itself as fun and masqueraded as affection while slowly grinding away the piece of my soul that knew how to form a real bond with another person. The desire was easy, but the rest of it was dangerous.

  She has no idea what kind of man I am anyway—not really. She would probably be the one that turned and ran if she did…

  * * *

  The weekend ended, and while the rest of the world woke up early to begin meaningful lives, I slept in—just like my Uncle Douglas. I just didn’t have a good excuse to do it. I hadn’t made something of myself, turned a tiny little company into an international operation, and then sold it for more money than I could spend without getting very creative. I had a bank account that was in good shape because of my uncle’s generosity, but I didn’t want to take advantage of him for much longer. I felt like that was what I was doing, even if he insisted I was always welcome in his home. It was our way—Wallace or Kinnear—both clans believed in the importance of family, and I could have found a warm bed with any of my kinfolks.

  I’d just like to be a man with an open door instead of standing at one looking for a handout.

  I reached for my phone and started scrolling through my emails. I was surprised to see one from the school board, letting me know that my background check had been completed, and I was officially cleared. That meant I just had one more interview, and I would be cleared to handle a college class if there was one that required a temporary professor or be a substitute teacher at any of the local high schools.

  The teaching certification I got along with my Master’s degree was finally going to be good for something, even if it wasn’t the job I wanted, but it would make me a better candidate when I started interviewing for those jobs again later in the year.

  “Big plans today, lad?” My uncle looked up at me from the kitchen table after I walked in with coffee hanging on my thoughts.

  “Aye.” I nodded, poured a cup, and sat down. “I got a call from Dean Stevenson.”

  “Oh? Are they going to offer ye a job?” My uncle’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I wish.” I scoffed. “He wrote me a letter of recommendation, and since I have an interview tomorrow, I need to pick it up.”

  “To be a substitute professor?” He reached for his coffee cup. “Ye gotta interview for that too?”

  “It’s the last stage of the approval process—an interview with someone who can actually offer me a job.” I nodded quickly.

  I prefer a college class, but I’m not going to turn anything down at this point.

  * * *

  “Thank ye, Dean Stevenson,” I shook the older man’s hand and tucked the letter of recommendation into my folder with the rest of my paperwork.

  “Anytime.” He sat back down behind his desk. “I still want you here—so if anything opens up, I’ll call.”

  “I appreciate it.” I nodded. “I’m not upset about the way things turned out. I understand that it isn’t yer fault that he decided to stay another year.”

  “Yeah.” He exhaled sharply. “You just have real-world experience, and I know the students would respond well to having you in front of the classroom. That’s the feedback we get every year about the business program—we don’t have enough professors who have actually done the job.”

  “Aye.” I chuckled under my breath. “It was the same when I was in college too, and my classmates talked about it constantly. It’s hard to take advice from someone who hasn’t been in the tr
enches—the textbook can only teach ye so much.”

  I learned more in my first year as a Securities Broker than all four years of college.

  I said goodbye to Dean Stevenson and walked outside to my car. There was a party at the quad, and they were serving food—the smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill reminded me that I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. It appeared that the party was open to anyone, so I put my stuff in the backseat and decided to check out the festivities.

  I saw a few signs along the edge of the quad. It appeared the party was sponsored by some of the frats and sororities. The message was anti-bullying, which I thought was an interesting choice for organizations that made hazing the primary focus of their initiation process—although I knew it wasn’t as bad as it was in my day.

  The sponsors didn’t seem to care who was in attendance. There were booths set up with anti-bullying literature, a place where you could sign a pledge that you wouldn’t bully anyone while you were a student at the University of Georgia—and even a booth for victims to set up meetings with counselors if needed.

  The fact that there wasn’t a line at it seemed to be a good sign. I wandered around, looked at a few things, got some food, and noticed that several professors were there—even the one that I would have replaced if I had gotten the job. I resisted the urge to introduce myself. I wasn’t upset with him any more than I was upset with Dean Stevenson. The situation bothered me a little bit, but there wasn’t any fault on anyone for the way it turned out.

  “Did you come to crash my party because I crashed yours?” A voice echoed behind me—one that I recognized before I turned around.

  “Amelia…” I exhaled sharply. “I was just picking something up…”

  I should have known she would be here.

  “Are you sure?” She tilted her head and took a step towards me. “Or were you just hoping that you would run into me?”

  “It wasn’t intentional.” I shook my head back and let out a sigh.

  Or maybe I was subconsciously aware of the possibility all along…

  “You haven’t called me.” She looked down and pursed her lip like she was going to pout.

  “We discussed that already…” I took a step back.

  “I still hoped you would.” She slowly lifted her head. “But that’s okay; I’m used to disappointment.”

  “Come on, that isn’t fair.” My head snapped back slightly. “I may not have gotten a job here this year, but that may change after this semester. I could even get a temporary gig this year if one of the professors needs someone to take over their class.”

  “What if none of that works out?” She shrugged. “Then what?”

  “Then yer still too young for me.” I sighed. “We both know that.”

  “Fine.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “You have my number if you change your mind—don’t wait too long though, I might end up getting my cherry popped by one of these frat boys.”

  “Yer not making this easy, lass.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Good.” She bit down her bottom lip, and I saw a bit of hopefulness flash in her eyes. “I’ll give you a couple of days to change your mind before I decide to get the full college experience.”

  “Hopefully, ye mean putting a lot of effort into yer classes so ye can get a good education.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Who knows.” She shrugged. “I have to get back to my booth—but you have my number.”

  Amelia winked at me and walked away. I wasn’t sure if there was a layer of truth beneath what she said or if she was just trying to be a tease. I was tempted, no matter how many times I wanted to deny it—to her—to myself. I swore I was past the point in my life where I hooked up with women because they made my dick hard, but maybe I wasn’t. All I had to do was call her, but that came with a lot of risks. Was I willing to take them?

  Maybe I just need another long shower…

  Chapter Five

  Amelia

  Things settled down at the Pi Beta Phi sorority house during the week. They partied hard on the weekends, but we had rules to follow the rest of the time. Our grades, surprisingly, were top priority. We also had plenty of events to keep us busy when we weren’t focused on passing our classes.

  I got assigned to the committee that was responsible for organizing our annual retreat and preparing for the weekend that our parents would be invited to visit the sorority. I wasn’t sure if mine would come since they were so far away, but it was nice to have something to do that didn’t make me feel like a maid or the Debbie Downer of the house.

  “Hey, it looks like we’re both on the retreat committee.” Chrissy walked into my bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Yeah, I thought I saw your name on the email.” I smiled, looking at my laptop. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll try to come up with something before the meeting.” She laughed. “I was actually hoping you had a few to give me some inspiration.”

  “The only thing I’ve looked at is venues.” I shrugged and sat up.

  “Do you think this means we’re officially in the sorority, or are they still testing us?” Chrissy tilted her head inquisitively.

  “I honestly don’t know.” I shook my head as I replied. “Maybe all of the hazing stuff is just overexaggerated these days.”

  “The girls from last year have hinted that it isn’t—and we should be wary…” She sighed. “I’m not going to let my guard down.”

  “I guess I’ll sleep with one eye open.” I chuckled under my breath. “At least we won’t have anything to worry about it if we make it to the weekend. They’re not going to waste their party-time on us.”

  “That’s true.” Chrissy nodded in agreement. “Okay, I need to hit the books. Let me know if you come up with any ideas—I’ll do the same for you.”

  “Awesome, thanks.” I smiled and waved as she left my room.

  As soon as Chrissy was gone, I opened my laptop and returned to what I was really doing when she walked in—stalking Lachlan online. He didn’t have much of a social media presence, but his uncle had a Facebook page set up for the annual Scottish festival, and a lot of people posted pictures.

  Lachlan was front and center in a lot of them. I wasn’t the only girl—or guy—that left the festival with a crush on the kilted hottie. I even saw a few comments from some of my sorority sisters, so while he might have thought he was too old for me, it was obvious I wasn’t the only girl my age who thought he was hot.

  The attraction was mutual. It’s not like I’m asking him to propose—I just want him to text me…

  * * *

  After a long week of classes and sorority responsibilities, it was time for another weekend of partying at the Pi Beta Phi house. Kira had us out of bed at the crack of dawn on Friday morning to clean, scrub, and make the place spotless. Once we were done with that, it was time for class, and we were told that there would be an announcement shortly after we got home. Attendance was mandatory for the pledges.

  None of the new recruits had any idea what the meeting was about, and the sorority sisters that had been there for a while weren’t willing to spill the beans. Even the ones that usually treated the pledges with more respect than those in charge were uncharacteristically silent. I barely had time to drop off my stuff in my room after class before it was time to hurry back downstairs for the meeting.

  “What do you think this is about?” I found Chrissy in the living room and sat down beside her.

  “I’m not sure…” She shrugged. “It probably has something to do with the party.”

  “I guess we’re about to find out.” I motioned to the entrance and saw Kira walk in—with a long paddle in her hands that resembled a decorated version of the one my high school principal had on his wall.

  Uh, I’m not sure I like where this is going…

  “On your feet, pledges.” Kira tapped the paddle on her palm. I saw Greek letters on one side, and some sort of motto painted on the
other.

  “She said, on your feet!” Lindsey, one of the other senior girls, snapped her fingers at us as she repeated what Kira said.

  Chrissy was the first one to stand up. I followed her lead. The rest of the pledges did the same. I wasn’t sure what was going on until Mallory, who was believed to be heir apparent to Kira, rolled in a cart that was filled with bottles of liquor and shot glasses. I nervously glanced over at Chrissy and saw the same reaction mirrored on her face. Most of the other pledges seemed to be excited by whatever our elder sorority sisters had planned for us.

  “It has come to our attention.” Kira continued tapping the paddle on her palm. “That some of you didn’t drink at our last party.”

  Maybe it was more obvious than I thought, although we weren’t totally sober when we got back.

  “It has also come to our attention.” Lindsey looked around the room, and her eyes focused on me. “That some of you didn’t stay for the entire party—that’s unacceptable.”

  Oh god…

  “We’re a sisterhood.” Kira tilted her head and smiled. “So, when one of us fucks up, we all fuck up. That is your lesson today.”

  “What does that mean?” Rachel raised her hand sheepishly as she spoke.

  “Well, since you asked, why don’t you go first?” Kira motioned to Rachel.

  “Okay…” Rachel stepped forward apprehensively.

  “Line them up, Mallory.” Kira pointed at the cart, and Mallory lined up six shot glasses in front of the array of different liquors.

  “Pick your poison, sis.” Mallory looked at Rachel. “Six shots of your choice—or bend over for six from Kira.”

  “What?” Rachel blinked in surprise.

  “That is your choice.” Kira turned to the group. “Everyone will get to make it before we’re done here today.”