“Oh, Iain.” Her face softened, and she leaned in to kiss his temple, his cheek, his lips. “I’m not scared you’ll hurt me like that.”
He forgot to ask what was she afraid of because her kisses turned wild and her hips ground against him. He forgot everything except the driving need building between them.
Her hands slipped under his T-shirt and tugged upward. He grabbed the back and pulled it off, leaving them both topless. She explored his chest and shoulders, and surprised him by following the path of her fingers along his pectoral muscles with her lips.
He ran his hands down her back, his thumbs tracing her spine and slipping into the waistband of her skirt. She arched her back and wiggled in encouragement. Anna was gorgeous, but what made her electric was how comfortable she was with herself, which in turn made him comfortable.
Iain tugged her panties to one side and slipped a finger along her core. A moaning gasp escaped as she popped her legs farther apart. “Do you have protection?”
He had no protection against the welling emotional deluge she inspired in him, but how could he admit the weakness to her?
“A condom?” Her clarification both relieved and embarrassed him, and he shook his head. “I’ll bet Izzy has a stash in her room. Want to come upstairs and check with me?”
He nodded like a caveman. He was a kiss away from having to draw on walls to communicate. She shimmied backward off his lap and held out a hand. He took it and stood, looking down at her. Unable to keep himself from touching her, he hauled her closer, their naked torsos creating enough friction to start a fire.
“Hang on to me.” He sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in days. He lifted her, cupping her bum.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. Her budded nipples rubbed against him with each stair step, and she tugged his earlobe between her teeth, her hot breath liquefying his knees. He made it as far as the landing and pressed her against the wall, lifting her higher to take her breast into his mouth.
After regaining his footing and climbing the remainder of the stairs, he toed open the door to his bedroom and walked straight to the bed. He took her waist, peeled her away from him, and plopped her on the mattress. The bounce incited breathless soft giggles from her.
She pointed to the room next door. “Check Izzy’s nightstand.”
He stalked through the connecting bathroom and rummaged through the nightstand like a thief desperate to find the crown jewels before MI-5 showed up. Finally, his fingers brushed a familiar packet. He retrieved two and returned to Anna.
He expected to find her under the covers, but she was at the window, opening the curtains to let moonlight flood the room. It glanced off her pale skin and gave her a magical quality. She turned and he was struck even dumber by her beauty.
“Did you find one?”
He held out the two condoms like offerings to the old druid gods.
“Excellent.” She took them both and tossed them on the coverlet. “Sit, Highlander.”
If there was a world record for fastest sitting, he broke it. She put her hands lightly on his shoulders and stepped closer, her breasts close to his mouth. He was more than happy to oblige her desire.
He ran his teeth along her nipple before flicking it with his tongue. He fit his palm to the soft curve of the other and squeezed slightly. She turned around and he was momentarily bereft, until she bent over, her bottom swaying. Again, her physical cues were simple and obvious, and he was grateful.
He flipped her skirt up, grabbed her knickers, and peeled them down her thighs. Then, he leaned in to do something he’d never even thought about doing to a woman. He gently bit the cheek of her bum, then kissed the spot he bit. A fine tremble ran through her like a mini-earthquake. Slipping his hand between her legs, he could play unimpeded.
With an abruptness that unbalanced him, she stepped away, kicked off her knickers, and faced him. Had he done something wrong? Misread her signals?
She hooked her fingers into the waist of her skirt and wiggled her hips while pushing it to her ankles. She stood illuminated by moonlight, naked and proud and confident. Still emanating power, she dropped to her knees.
“Your turn, Highlander. Off with your kilt.” Her hand cut through the air like a queen calling for someone’s head.
As if following an order from a commanding officer, he obeyed, tossing the kilt and his underpants aside. She ran her fingertips lightly up his thighs. His erection jumped in reaction, and he prayed her fingers would continue their trek.
She glanced up at him. “You can speak, you know. Tell me what you like.”
He swallowed and tried to produce words. “I like you.”
As soon as the childish words left his mouth, he closed his eyes and shook his head. The devil take it, he really was rubbish when it came to women.
Her laugh had none of the sarcasm she normally wielded like a rapier. “I like you too, you big, sexy beast.”
She smiled up at him, and he cupped her cheek, his fingers tangling in her hair. He wished he was better with flowery compliments and expressing himself. He wanted to tell her she was challenging and beautiful and brought out a side of him he hadn’t known existed. One he rather liked.
Instead, he went with a simpler truth. “I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.”
“You can say whatever you want with me.” Her hand stole around his shoulders and she pulled him down for a kiss. It was brief, but firm as if punctuating her promise. Then, her attention turned to his erection and any need or ability to speak deserted him.
“By the way, I especially like this.” Her voice danced with a tease her lips mimicked as they played along the tip of his erection.
Her mouth was hot and wet and foretold even greater pleasures to come. With a strong pull, she lifted her head and reached for one of the packets at his hip. When he tried to take control, she pushed his hands away.
“No, I’ll do it.” At the sound of the wrapper tearing, he closed his eyes and fell backward on the bed.
It was odd for a woman to take charge. Or maybe it wasn’t. Had his experiences been warped? She scrambled on top of him. “Are you ready?”
He opened his eyes and couldn’t look away. Her hair was wildly tangled around her shoulders, only glints of red visible in the moonlight. Her body was lithe and strong on top of his. She bit her bottom lip, poised to take him, yet she waited for him to answer.
He caught her hips and drove her down as his answer. Their moans rang out in the sweetest of harmonies. He’d never been so in tune with a woman before. He let her set the rhythm, slow with a hip roll that drove him too close to the brink. He didn’t want it to end.
She lowered her chest to his and kissed him while continuing the chase for her own climax. Her body tightened and jerked, and she let out a long sighing moan of satisfaction, almost panting. Her limbs grew lax and heavy. He flipped her to her back, positioning himself between her legs and fitting himself at her entrance.
Now, it was his turn. He thrust deep and hard. Her back arched and her eyes closed, but she grabbed his biceps and her nails spurred him on. His rhythm was fast and intense and scooted her up the bed and into the pillows.
Her internal muscles clamped him once more as a harsh cry was wrung from her throat. He followed with a low groan, his toes curling and his legs shaking, no longer able to support his weight. He collapsed at her side and disposed of the condom, breathing hard as he stared up at the ceiling.
She notched herself into his side and nudged his face with her nose like a cat. Even her voice purred. “Wow, Highlander. That was good.” In her honeyed accent, she drew the word “good” out into at least three syllables.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t?” She popped up on her elbow. Even in the shadows, her glare singed him.
As usual, his response had been woefully inappropriate and not at all what he meant to convey. He winced and tried to regain his verbal footing, his words stumbling out. “
I meant, it was better than good. It was bloody amazing. You’re amazing.”
“Not as amazing as you.” She kissed his cheek, the gesture endearing.
He waited for her to leave him. Once women got what they wanted, they tended to come up with excuses not to have to actually hang around. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I’m going to clean up.” She slid from his side, leaving him chilled in the air-con. How could such a small woman generate so much heat?
She disappeared into the bathroom. If she wanted to make a clean escape, she could slip out the other bedroom and not even see him again until morning.
Morning. How awkward would the next morning be? They still had to tackle a mountain of details before the festival kickoff, not to mention the festival itself.
He maneuvered under the covers. Inexplicably, after the most intimate moment of his life, he fought a crushing loneliness. The toilet flushed and water ran, then nothing. He strained to hear the creak of boards as she snuck away.
Instead, he heard the creak of the door and the pad of footsteps growing closer. He raised his head to watch her climb under the covers and reattach herself to his side. Her toes were cold and his leg jerked in response.
“Sorry, my feet are always cold.” Anna yawned and snuggled closer.
“I don’t mind.” He wrapped his arm around her, daring to kiss the top of her head.
“We’re batting zero for two.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“It’s a baseball reference. It means I’ve tried to teach you to dance twice and gotten distracted.”
“Maybe it’s not meant to be.”
“You give up too easily.”
Did he? Not usually. If a mothering ewe was in distress or a complicated project landed on his lap, he would worry and work until the birth or the project was complete and successful. Unfortunately, he’d never possessed the same tenacity or confidence when it came to relationships. He had been easily discouraged. Perhaps his failures couldn’t be laid at anyone else’s feet but his own.
Still ruminating on facts and fallacies, he drifted to sleep with Anna locked in his arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Anna started awake in the dark, disoriented and with her heart pounding in her ears. Unfamiliar shadows surrounded her. The bed and window were in the wrong place in relation to each other. The room was cool, yet heat emanated next to her, grounding her in time and place. Rolling to her side to face Iain, she relaxed into the comfy mattress and pulled the covers to her neck.
It was a good thing she didn’t take up much room. Iain was sprawled on his back, his massive frame taking up a majority of the bed. He breathed deeply and snuffled slightly on each exhale. She liked learning new things about him.
The birds hadn’t even begun their warm-up for the morning’s dawn concert. She had time. They had time. The sex had been a revelation. Physically, he could have dominated her. And he had later, but he’d allowed her to take charge at the beginning when she’d needed to assert herself.
Iain alternated between confidence and uncertainty in a way she found captivating. Did he realize how smitten she was with him? It wasn’t just the physical—although she had zero complaints with what was under his kilt—it was the vulnerability he hid under his stoic gruffness.
It would be better if he never found out how she felt. Actually, it would be best if she wasn’t smitten at all and could enjoy the simple pleasure he offered in bed. No, not simple. The dynamic between them was complex. One she’d never experienced, but found undeniably attractive.
Speaking of undeniably attractive, she eyed the unused condom on the night stand. If condoms could talk, it was definitely cheering her on. She slipped her hand under the covers to cup him between the legs, surprised to find him semi-erect. It didn’t take many strokes for semi-erect to turn fully erect. Go, team Anna!
“What mischief are you getting up to, lass?” His rumbly brogue was a turn-on in and of itself.
“Unless you have an objection, I’m going to take wild advantage of you.” She moved half on top of him and brushed her sensitive breasts against his hair-covered chest.
She stifled a moan at the friction. She’d never been with a man with plentiful hair on his chest. Actually, compared to Iain, she wasn’t sure any of her past boyfriends qualified as men.
“I do object.” He rolled and reversed their positions, his chest pressing her into the mattress, his erection against her hip. “It’s my turn.”
“I didn’t realize this was a turn-taking kind of situation. Anyway, you had a turn last night.” Her voice lilted up as his fingers found her and stroked gently.
“I can be stubborn and selfish with my turn.”
“Like a toddler?” Her words strangled when his thumb found the apex of nerves throbbing for his attention.
“Exactly. I like to get my way.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want you to lose control.”
He had an instinct about what she needed and where. And if he fumbled, she was ready with a circle of her hips or a gentle nudge to where she needed his touch. He kissed her, the dual sensations enough to shove her over the edge into an intense orgasm.
Iain didn’t wait for her spiral back to earth. He maneuvered her onto her hands and knees and positioned himself behind her. The stretch of him entering her extended the trembling pleasure throughout her body. His thrusts were hard and deep and satisfying in a way sex had never been for her. Her brain had switched off worries of the festival and the studio and her ambition to be mayor. It could only process the physical and wallow in the pleasure signals zipping around her body.
Iain gave one last push and held still inside of her, his erection pulsing. Anna’s trembling limbs gave out, and she slipped to lay on her belly like she’d been flattened by a truck. The darkness outside had lightened to gray and birds trilled. Her list of things to do was an arm’s length long, yet she couldn’t summon an ounce of urgency. She could have wallowed in bed with Iain all day, making love and talking.
Iain gave her bare butt a playful slap before rising. She turned her head to watch him stretch, his back muscles shifting.
“Are you leaving?” The question came out more plaintive than she intended.
“I have the animals to tend.” He paused in the door of the bathroom. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
He disappeared and she sat up with a huff. Had he just pulled the “I’ve got an important meeting” card in order to escape? No, he simply had work to do, and so did she. She pressed the palms of her hands to her forehead, all the warm fuzziness imparted from their dawn sex vanishing.
After making her escape from Stonehaven in what was less a walk of shame and more like a sprint, she settled in behind her desk at the studio. She had classes to teach before she could shift gears to the festival.
The toddlers came and went with the usual amount of chaos. She suspected wrangling the animals was less difficult than herding the kids. The high school girls entered and took their places. When she started the traditional Scottish music, a collective groan went up among the girls. She switched the music off.
“What’s wrong?” She turned to face the girls with her hands on her hips.
“We’ve practiced so much, I’ve started dreaming the routine. We know it, and we’ll still practice, but can we do something else. Something fun?” Keisha piped up from her usual position at the front. Several of the other girls nodded.
If Anna’s mother had been in charge, she would have stamped out any independence with a cutting remark that put the girls in their places. Anna wasn’t her mother, though, and recognized herself in Keisha. The girl was a natural leader and had a confidence Anna didn’t want to see squashed.
Without answering, Anna dialed up a current song with a thumping bass beat. “Okay, line up and try to keep up with me.”
Anna moved to the front of the class, all of them facing the mirrors. Smiles and high fi
ves from the girls framed her. Soon Anna was caught up in the technicalities of the moves, counting them off and repeating until the girls picked up on the intricacies.
They took ten minutes at the end of class to run through the routine for the games, and the girls looked more in sync and energetic than they had in weeks. What was the lesson? That it was healthy to switch things up and have a little fun? Was sex with Iain a distraction or a stress relief?
Waving the girls out of the front door of the studio, she spotted Gabby’s dad strolling on the other side of the street. Without second-guessing herself, she scooted out the door and stepped into the road, waiting not-so-patiently for a break in traffic.
She caught up to him next to an alleyway that had been bricked in to form a small courtyard between shops. A mural of the actual Highlands was painted along the back wall and a fountain added to the ambiance.
“Mr. Donaldson. Could I have a quick word?” She was out of breath from a combination of the sprint across the street and down the sidewalk, and nerves.
Mr. Donaldson turned, his only answer a brusque nod. On the surface, he was intimidating—did the man know how to smile?—but was his stoicism merely a product of grief and worry?
“I want to apologize for the other day. I had no right to tell you how to parent your daughter. You know what’s best for her and for your family.” Was that a slight softening around his mouth? Anna cleared her throat and continued. “My goal with dance is to instill something I lacked as a child. Confidence. A belief in oneself. Setting a goal and achieving it. My approach to dance isn’t sexualized. My girls are different shapes and sizes and talent levels, but they all crave the same thing—someone to cheer them on. That’s me. That’s what I do.”
Mr. Donaldson’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled at his bottom lip, considering her like she were an insect to be classified.
She made one last ditch effort. “Yes, Gabby could win Lass of the Games, but this is not about a competition. After her mother—your wife—died, she got quieter in class. More reserved. She’s never talked about her mother with me, but that’s when her dancing changed.”
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