“Samhain, do you really think anyone is going to hold a grudge because you kept our relationship a secret? They knew we had no choice.” He tilted his head in my direction and I let out a sigh.
Maybe he was right. I was probably overreacting, just as I had the year before when I started working on Abarath. Back then, I was a ball of nerves and insecurities—insecurities that came from the fact that I’d been cast away from Hollywood following my very public revenge on my cheating boyfriend. Also, I had been working on a TV show that didn’t pose many challenges makeup-wise, and Abarath had a heavy amount of prosthetics, fake blood, and special effects involved.
For weeks, I felt I really didn’t deserve to be there, and even more so when I replaced the main makeup artist, Margaret, and started working directly with the main lead.
My fiancé.
“You know you have nothing to worry about. It wasn’t your fault, or mine; it was just how things had to be. Thank God that’s over,” he said with a deep sigh. I knew keeping things secret had been as hard for him as it had been for me. The network behind Abarath wanted to milk the chemistry between Hugh and one of the female leads, Melissa, but neither one of them were interested in prolonging the charade. Hugh and I were falling in love, and there was also the fact that Melissa was gay. After his very public declaration of love at the Vanity Fair Oscar party, the network didn’t have a choice but to back off for good.
Of course, there was a small price to pay.
After some photographers from the party came forward with pictures of Hugh serenading me at the Oscars, he had to agree to have them published.
The old saying “any publicity is good publicity” still rang true in Hollywood.
“No more worrying about what your colleagues are going to think, okay?”
“You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right,” I said with a smile, quoting one of my favorite lines from When Harry Met Sally.
He smiled and finally took a bite of the Nutella-frosted cookie. His eyes lit up as he munched on the first bite, and a chorus of “Mmmmmm” followed.
I laughed. Sometimes watching him eat something I’d made was as gratifying as eating itself. With the second bite, he added in an “Oh my God!” while rolling his eyes and succumbing to the deliciousness. He licked his thumb clean of the frosting he’d gotten all over it, adding a few more moans while he was at it.
“Hugh MacLeod! You better not orgasm on my cookies without me!” I yelled.
He covered his mouth with one hand, trying to finish his bite and stop himself from laughing at the same time, but I knew he couldn’t help himself from being vocal.
The cookies were the bomb.
The banana and peanut butter gave the cookie a unique, balanced flavor, but it was the chocolate hazelnut frosting that took the recipe to a whole other level. It had been what I called a “happy accident” type of recipe after I messed up the consistency for muffins, and it was one I had been perfecting over the last couple years.
Needless to say, it had become a favorite in my family.
I opened the fridge and poured him a glass of almond milk. I placed it in front of him, he nodded his gratitude, and he drank half the glass then placed it back on the counter and grabbed a paper towel to wipe his mouth.
He circled around the counter and his hands wrapped around my waist from behind. Just the nearness of him made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and it was even worse when he started whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
“How about I help you finish up here and then I give your sweet muffin something to moan about?” he asked, his voice low and seductive. Granted, the words were decidedly corny, but they were still effective. My throat went dry, and my body reacted in the way it always did when he tried to seduce me. He didn’t have to try that hard, but the anticipation his words and touch ignited made foreplay a whole lot sweeter. A shiver ran down my spine, my breasts felt suddenly fuller and heavier, and wetness started pooling in my underwear. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I would have bet anything I owned that the smolder was on full blast.
I turned around and my hands caressed his strong arms, his shoulders, all the way up to his neck. I ran my fingers through his soft, wavy hair and reached for his lips, thirsty for him.
“How about you forget about helping me in the kitchen and you help out elsewhere?” I asked, my voice loaded with need. He arched one eyebrow in response and leaned down just slightly so he could better reach behind my legs and lift me up. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I had learned in the last few months to just go with it. When it came to sex, the man was a constant surprise. He knew how to be sweet and slow, fast and rough, and I could never seem to get enough. As cliché as it sounded, when we were together, everything else disappeared. We existed only for each other. We might as well have been the last two lovers left alive, because in those moments, we couldn’t seem to be bothered or distracted by anything else. Since most of the counter was occupied by the dozens of cookies I’d baked, he placed me on the opposite side of the stove, on the counter space between it and the sink. With a quick swoop, he took off my sweatshirt. I was naked underneath, and my nipples pebbled as the cool air washed over my skin.
The fiery look of determination coming from his icy blue eyes was devastating. It made me forget everything else. In that moment, only he mattered.
“Sam,” he murmured, but didn’t add anything else. He was too busy taking me in as his hands started tracing my skin and the swell of my breasts as if it were the first time all over again. I bit my bottom lip as he pinched one of my nipples, and I arched my back. I wrapped my legs around him and brought him closer to me. I loved the feel of his firm ass under my hands, and I loved the feel of his hard length against my needy, achy center even more.
I wanted him right then, but he seemed to have other ideas.
HUGH
Her skin was always such a trigger for me, soft and warm, with that inviting caramel color that made me crazy. I started trailing kisses down her neck, reaching her collarbone. I lowered my head to kiss her breasts. She let out a low moan as I took a nipple in my mouth, and I sucked and licked just to hear her breath become fast and shallow. Her hands were in my hair, pulling me back so she could kiss me. She took my mouth with hers and her tongue wrapped around mine, giving me the sweet taste of her. I could taste chocolate on her tongue, tinged with a bit of coffee.
“I need you,” she moaned as she broke the kiss.
“I’m here, neach gaoil,” I said against her lips.
She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my trousers and pulled them down, along with my underwear. Her hand was on my erection right away, pumping it slowly as she brought her eyes up to mine.
I caressed her breasts as I looked into her chocolate brown eyes. It never failed to amaze me how those eyes could make me feel so many different things: love, lust, excitement, and a sense of familiarity.
I lost and found myself in them.
My hands skimmed the soft skin of her waist, and I dodged the fabric of her yoga pants to get to the place I liked to get lost in.
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath.
“What?” she asked in a husky voice.
“I should have taken your pants off first,” I joked.
“I can get off the counter,” she replied.
“No. Don’t move.”
She gave me a quizzical look. “I don’t know what you have in mind, my dear Scot, but I’m not playing Cirque du Soleil with you.” I laughed at her words, thinking about our first time in the trailer, when I hooked her on my shoulders and her head bumped against the ceiling. She scowled at me, and I took my shirt off.
That always seemed to distract her.
I knew my body turned her on as much as hers did me. I loved seeing that look of lust in her eyes, seeing the most passionate, fiery side of her come undone.
“Sam,” I said. “Trust me. Hands up on the cabinets. Use the strength in your arms to lift yourself
up. It will only take a moment. Stretch your legs out.”
“Seriously?” she groaned. “Next time I’ll get undressed before you put the moves on me.”
I raised my eyebrows and let out a small laugh. “I don’t think you’ll ever hear me complain about that.” Despite her protestations, she did as I asked, and in one swift move, I pulled down both her pants and knickers and threw them on the floor.
“See? Now was that so hard?” She lowered her hands down on the counter again, but I shook my head and placed them up where they had been a moment ago.
She let out a small groan, but when I tugged on her ponytail and leaned down to kiss her, all humor was gone from her eyes.
“Get ready. Keep your hands up.” I saw her swallow, and I knelt in front of her. I lifted her butt cheeks so she was right on the edge of the counter, ready and exposed to me. I parted the lips of her pussy with a finger. It was warm and so wet, and I couldn’t wait to lose myself in it. Ever since we’d gotten back together and made it official, Sam and I made sure we were both clean. She’d decided to get on birth control so we could ditch the uncomfortable but necessary condoms, and being able to come inside of her was a brand new sensory experience. It was like a drug I could never get enough of.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned as I licked her sweet pussy with my tongue. I parted her lips wider and started teasing and sucking her clit. “Oh, Hugh,” she moaned as one of her hands caressed my hair.
“Hands up, Sassenach.”
“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled. “God, you are . . . ah, so good at this. I can’t . . . I can’t . . . I’m going to come,” she said.
“Don’t hold back, Sam. Let go. Let me see you come,” I said, looking up. She gave me a small nod, her cheeks a shade darker than usual with a barely visible blush. I brought my face down to her again and licked and sucked her wetness, focusing on her throbbing clit. Her orgasm followed soon after, and I sucked her sweet, watery cum as she reached her climax in a chorus of low moans.
“You taste so fucking sweet, mo gradh,” I told her, kissing her neck as she came down from her high. Her eyes were wide and her breath shallow. She searched for my mouth and kissed me, over and over.
“I want you,” she murmured. “Take me. Now.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
I lifted her legs again slightly and with a slow, deep thrust, I made my way into her.
“Ohhh, fuck,” she said, her arms hooked around my neck as I held her legs under her knees and pushed in and out of her, keeping a slow tempo. I wanted to enjoy this as long as I could, but it felt so fucking good, I already knew I wasn’t going to last very long.
“You feel so fucking good, Sam. You’re perfect for me. Will you marry me?” I joked.
She laughed, and I loved feeling the sound of her laughter against my ear and her body vibrating around my cock. I drove into her harder and she answered with a strangled moan.
“I thought we already established that.” She laughed.
“When?” I whispered. “When do you want to get married?” I asked.
“My my, Hugh MacLeod, I didn’t know you to be the impatient type.”
“Don’t make fun of my love for you, Sam.”
She met my eyes and gave me a small peck on the lips as I drove into her once again.
“I would never do that. I’d marry you tomorrow if I could.” I kept one of my hands under her knee, keeping her leg in place as I pumped into her, while the other caressed her breast, pinching her nipple. She arched her back and moaned as I drove into her a little deeper. She was so fucking sexy. I couldn’t get enough of seeing her come apart.
“Yeah? You’d marry me tomorrow?”
“You know I would. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I replied. “Fuck,” I muttered. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
“Come, my love. Give it to me harder. Give me all you got.”
I thrust into her three more times before I came, and as the orgasm erupted through my body, I had to hold on to my Sam to collect my bearings, panting hard, knees wobbly, beads of sweat dripping down my forehead. Sam brushed a lock of hair to the side and kissed my face over and over.
It was only then that I realized we were naked in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by cookies and chocolate frosting.
I started laughing, still trying to catch my breath.
“What is it?” she asked in a curious tone.
“If this is what they call ‘domestic bliss,’ sign me up.”
She waved her left hand at me, the engagement ring sparkling on her finger.
“Looks like you’re all signed up.” She smiled, and I felt the urge to kiss her again and hold her in my arms for a wee bit longer.
“So, you’d marry me tomorrow?”
She nodded. “You know I would, but Fiona would have our asses whipped with a paddleboard if we did that, and it would probably break my dad’s heart, although he would never tell me that.”
“True.” She was right. We needed our families by our side. It wouldn’t be the same without them. When it came to love, I’d always been cautious, but since meeting Sam, I’d discovered a more impulsive side of me I hadn’t known I possessed. What I felt for her was raw and true. Sometimes, it made me feel a little reckless.
It was a feeling I’d grown to embrace.
“I want to marry you, soon—the sooner the better—but we need to plan it, and tomorrow we start working on season two. You know you need to give it one hundred percent, so let’s take it one day at a time, okay?” she said gently.
The smile on my face fell, although I knew she was trying to do what was best for us. She kissed me again and wrapped her arms tightly around my chest as the door busted open and a gust of wind blew through the house.
SAM
What I’d said about Hugh and I getting lost in each other to the point we wouldn’t know what else was happening? Yeah, that happened often, and now Cecilia was waltzing through our living room, calling our names.
“Did you leave the door unlocked?” I whispered to my fiancé.
“I might have,” he admitted.
“Hugh!” I said, slapping his arm. Cecilia was seconds away from coming to look for us in the kitchen, where we were still butt naked.
“Sam and Hugh, it’s time to wake up! Come down!” My pest of a friend had come all the way out to the valley to bother us. I wondered why she wasn’t curled up with her own guy on such a fabulous Sunday.
“We are awake,” Hugh said, peering at her over the kitchen’s bar, which was covered in piles of cookies. From where she was, she could only see him waist up. I put my sweatshirt on, and I noticed him stretch out his arm. “Stop right there. We’re naked, so don’t come forth. Turn around Cecilia,” he told her, and the assertiveness in his voice sounded so damn sexy.
Ahhh, this man, I thought to myself.
“Ewww! I didn’t need the visual. Thanks a lot, McHottie. Now I’m going to spend the rest of my day trying to erase the image of you two shagging surrounded by baked goods. Pretty sure that’s a food safety violation.”
“Hush!” I yelled. “Next time don’t go barging into someone’s home,” I told her as I put my pants on.
Cecilia muttered something else under her breath, but when I was finally dressed and peeked in the living room, I noticed she’d turned around and was facing the fireplace.
I checked to make sure my man was fully dressed, and then I walked into the living room and tapped my spunky friend on the shoulder.
“Now, care to tell me why you’re here?”
SAM
“Oliver and I are going to get married at the town hall this Friday. We got permission to take off. Actually, we persuaded Nora to give us a half-day off.”
“Excuse me? You persuaded Nora to give you a half-day off to get married? It’s the first week of season two—what methods did you use? Blackmail? Torture?”
She made a face and rolled her eyes. “What do you Amer
icans say? Ahh, that’s right . . . Bitch, please.”
I stuck my tongue out in response. It wasn’t that the show runner, Nora Peters, was such a hard-ass—well, maybe sometimes she was—but she was dedicated to her job and made no concessions to anyone.
Abarath was her baby. She would usually let nothing and no one disrupt shooting schedules. She hadn’t been one to oppose the relationship between Hugh and me last year, but she certainly was on the fence about it, mainly because she didn’t want it to compromise or affect the success of the show.
“No, seriously—how did you get her to agree to give you time off?”
“Well, for one, it’s the first week, and we haven’t even started shooting yet. Two, there’s some major Scotland vs. England rugby match every bloke from the crew is dying to go to. It’s in Edinburgh, and they had already been asking her about working a half-day on Friday. It just worked out that way.”
“That’s right, the rugby match,” said Hugh, as if he were suddenly remembering something. “Now I remember the guys talking about wanting to go.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised by the sudden interest, since the subject hadn’t come up, not one time in all the months we’d been together. But, it would have to wait, because I had more pressing questions to ask.
“Wait, Cecilia, you’re getting married this Friday? At the town hall? Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Sam!” Hugh said in a reprimanding tone.
What did I say?
“What? I thought she wanted a big wedding!” I said with a shrug. “I figured you wanted something more . . . traditional, that’s all.”
She shrugged but gave me a dreamy smile, which made me understand she didn’t care about what I’d just said. “Oliver and I don’t care,” she said with a sigh. “To be honest, we’re trying to save up. We want to buy a place in the country.”
A Scottish Wedding (Lost in Scotland Book 2) Page 4
