Sweet Wild of Mine

by Laurel Kerr

  Chapter 10

  Magnus felt his shoulder muscles uncoil as the bathroom door shut. The lass had nearly killed him. He’d never experienced this much need for a woman. He’d wanted her so badly, his body nearly shook. But this wasn’t the right time. June wasn’t ganting for a night of fun. She was looking for a way out of the pain, and he’d be a manky bastard if he took advantage.

  She wasn’t herself. He’d watched her closely as they’d walked to the hotel, and she’d moved as stiffly as a sleepwalker. The spark that was June had been banked. He’d lived in numbness long enough to recognize it in others. And with a lass as vibrant as June, it wasn’t hard to detect.

  Magnus didn’t want her returning to an empty hotel room after her bath, so he settled into the sole armchair, opened his laptop, and started typing. Unlike with his last couple books, the writing flowed from him as easily as it had in the beginning of his career. But this story was different from his debut. That had been about purging the past. Nor was the current manuscript an adventure like the second memoir. This book was quieter, and to his surprise, more humor crept into his vignettes. A playfulness permeated his tales about little Sorcha, Frida, and the prairie-dog colony. Writing had always been a need for him, an urge to put words on paper. But lately it hadn’t been about just filling an instinctual demand. Instead, he’d taken more delight in the process.

  And while sitting in the hospital, with his shoulder pressed against June’s, he’d started to include a few passages about his stutter. It had felt strange typing those words and watching them appear on the screen, yet not terrible. Not like he would have imagined. Perhaps he’d drawn strength from June’s silent courage as she’d held herself together while her grandmother lay so still across from them. He had never imagined a hospital as an ideal writing location, but it was a place of extremes. A place of birth and death. A place where a man, faced with the fragility of life, found himself contemplating his own.

  Magnus heard the water turn off, and he tried not to imagine June standing in the shower with beads of water clinging to her. Her body would be warm from the hot spray, her muscles pliant. He imagined pulling her against him, feeling her soft, smooth skin.

  Baws. He had a fair stauner now. Aye, no denying it, he wanted the lass with a fierceness he’d never experienced before.

  He managed to shift his laptop just in time to hide his erection when June walked back into the room. She wore pink flannel pajamas covered in cupcakes. That should have dampened his lust, but instead he only noticed how cute her toes looked peeping out from under the ridiculous ensemble.

  June smiled. “I know they’re old-fashioned, but I’ve always loved a pair of jammies. My mama found these at the airport. Aren’t they just the most darling things?”

  Magnus jerked his chin in reluctant agreement. They’d look absurd on any other adult, but on June, they held a kittenish sex appeal. Neither observation seemed appropriate, though, especially when June was so pleased with her mum’s purchase. She needed something silly, something comforting, and Magnus would not ruin it.

  “If you’re ready for sleep, I’ll head to my own room,” Magnus said.

  June nodded and sat down on the edge of the massive king-size bed. She smiled, but it didn’t have the brilliance of her normal grin. She looked a little lost, and Magnus’s heart wrenched. He didn’t want to leave the lass, he realized, and not just because she looked forlorn. For a man who loved privacy, June’s presence had become unexpectedly but undeniably important to him.

  Bending down, Magnus brushed a kiss against her forehead. Again, not like him at all. He wasn’t a tender man, at least not when it came to humans.

  “Caidil gu là,” he told her softly.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “Sleep until day,” he translated.

  “Magnus?”

  “Aye?”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  “It was nothing, lass.”

  “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.” June’s green eyes glistened in the dim light, and Magnus felt an answering pang deep inside himself.

  “Aye, hen, you could’ve. You’re a strong woman, June Winters.”

  Her smile turned shaky, and she bobbed her head. He turned to leave, but as soon as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard his name again. He turned to see June watching him, her eyes wide and earnest.

  “Can you stay, Magnus?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  Auld Clootie himself couldn’t have dragged Magnus from that hotel room. If June needed him, he would stay. He nodded, and in three strides, he returned to her side. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he gazed down at her bonny face. Even tired, exhausted, and dressed in those ridiculous pajamas, she was a braw lass.

  “Would it be all right if I had a bath first, hen? I’m manky.”

  She nodded, and he headed to the bathroom. He showered quickly, then toweling himself off, he reached into his bag where he’d stuffed one change of clothes. He normally wore only boxers to bed, but that didn’t seem appropriate tonight.

  When he reentered the room, June had dimmed the lights, leaving only the one by the bedside on. She lay on her side, tucked under the covers, but she’d left plenty of room and even pulled back the duvet for him. He stopped, riveted by the sight. It was so welcoming. His heart, which had been receiving a workout these past few days, ached again. But this was a different kind of pang. A sweet one. A comforting one. A dangerous one.

  June shifted then and glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were bleary, her face tight with strain. “I can’t sleep. My mind’s going faster than a runaway locomotive chasing down a mountain.”

  And with that, the familiar twinge of pain returned. He crawled into bed and drew her close. He brushed a kiss on her temple. She sighed and snuggled in to him, the soft curve of her bum brushing against his boabie. Lust speared him, but he battled it back. Unfortunately, that allowed the softer need to take hold. He’d never yearned like this before. Ever.

  * * *

  Fluffy cocked his head as he studied Honey. She did not seem her normal self lately. First, she had cuddled against him, and for the last few days, she’d made no effort to escape their enclosure. He wondered if it had anything to do with the disappearance of the Giant One and the Blond One. Honey seemed to delight in harassing the two bipeds.

  Fluffy did not like seeing Honey out of sorts, so he’d formed a plan. When Honey disappeared into her den, Fluffy dashed to her food dish and snatched a piece of meat. Honey’s head instantly popped into view. Turning, he scampered out of their enclosure, and she followed. He headed to the nearest garbage can where he dropped the food.

  She skidded to a stop and watched him suspiciously. When he didn’t move, she slowly approached and snatched the meat. Before she could dart away, Fluffy knocked over a garbage can. Honey started at the clang. Then she smiled her toothy grin.

  That evening, they knocked one can over after another. They did not leave a single one unturned.

  When they returned to their enclosure, they did something honey badgers rarely did…they snuggled against each other instead of immediately going their separate ways. Fluffy smiled. Sometimes, it was good to have a partner in crime.

  * * *

  June woke in a circle of warmth. For one wonderful moment, she simply luxuriated in the feel of Magnus’s body pressed against hers. Then, all too soon, her memories crashed into her like a landslide. She jerked into a sitting position, jarring Magnus awake.

  He groaned and rolled over. “What time is it, hen?”

  She glanced at the clock. “Three.”

  “Go back to sleep. We’ll go see your nan first thing in the morn.”

  She flopped back down, but despite the fact she’d barely rested in days, sleep evaded her. Instead, she thought about her nan’s eyes…and the empty terror there. A
sob tore through her. Although she tried to muffle it with her pillow, the bed shook from its force.

  She felt Magnus’s hand on her shoulder. He made a low murmur in the back of his throat as he rolled her against him.

  “Magnus?” June asked softly.

  “Aye?”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “It’s your grief talking, lass.”

  “Yes”—June wouldn’t deny that—“but not the way you think. It’s not like before.”

  His whole body went stiff. “What do you m-m-mean?”

  “I’m making the decision with my head,” June said. “It’s not so much to escape as it is to hold on to something good.”

  “Are you certain, hen?” Magnus’s voice sounded taut, like a bowstring being drawn back.

  She nodded. “And it is you who I want. There’s something about you, Magnus. You have this amazing quiet strength, and I need that right now.”

  Magnus’s breath caught noticeably at her words. His rough fingers brushed against her cheek as he pushed back a tendril of her hair. “I’m not one for small towns, lass.”

  “And I’m not planning to leave Sagebrush, but I’m not asking for forever, Magnus. I’m asking for tonight.”

  He swallowed, and in the dim light seeping through the crack in the curtains, she watched his throat work. “Are you absolutely sure? This is what you desire?”

  His chivalrous streak touched her. She had no doubt he wanted her, not with the evidence digging into her thigh. And, even in the semidarkness, his eyes fairly glowed as they hungrily watched her.

  She didn’t answer his questions with more words. Instead, she brushed her lips against his. He groaned. Deep and low. The sound curled inside her and settled low in her belly. She deepened the kiss. In response, he slanted his mouth over hers as he eased her back onto the bed. Already she could feel the pressure of his weight, and her body thrilled at the contact. His mix of power and tenderness made a heady elixir, and June wanted nothing more than to get drunk on it.

  Her fingers sank into his unruly curls, and she marveled at their softness. He framed her face with his hands as he slowly and thoroughly plundered her mouth. A kiss had never consumed her senses like this. Her whole body hummed like a tuning fork, and they’d barely started.

  And still Magnus did not break the kiss. He seemed content to drive her slowly mad with his tongue and lips. She moaned against him as her body instinctually rose to meet his. He lowered himself, allowing her to feel his bulk. But aside from that concession, he kept his mouth firmly locked on hers.

  He kissed with a fierce tenderness that managed to possess her more than any crushing demand ever could. She swore he coaxed sensations from every cell until she was saturated with pleasure. His musky scent filled her nostrils. Both their breathing grew labored as his chest pressed against hers.

  Just as June felt pulled as tautly as a fiddle string ready to snap, Magnus’s lips left her mouth and trailed along the side of her throat. His caress remained unhurried, his tongue darting out. Licking. Teasing. Enticing.

  June began to writhe as glorious need sparked through her body, her nerve endings sizzling with anticipation. Her body yearned for him. A moan escaped her lips. Finally, his hand slid under the flannel of her pajamas and captured her breast. She whimpered as Magnus circled her nipple with his thumb, his rough calluses at odds with the gentleness of his touch. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her top. When he fumbled, she moved to help him. As soon as he pushed the fabric aside, she yanked at his T-shirt. He rose on his knees to strip it off. He didn’t reach for his fly, though. Instead, he sank back down, his mouth closing over one of her nipples, his hand over the other. If she’d thought he’d been thorough with her mouth, it was nothing like his attention to her breasts.

  Helpless against the pleasure pulsating through her at an erotic tempo, she clung to his back. Her fingers slid over his taut muscles. They bunched and extended as he altered his position to better explore her body. His skin felt like warm silk and just as decadent. Near his shoulder blade, June unexpectedly brushed against a hard, rough patch. Scar tissue. Her hand lingered there as she wondered about the old hurt. Magnus’s tongue curled around her nipple, teasing it gently. A spear of lust shot straight to her core with sizzling accuracy. She forgot about his shoulder in the explosion of pleasure and need.

  He moved his attention lower as he hooked his finger around the elastic waistband of her pajama bottoms. He pulled them down in one swift motion. Rocking back on his heels, he stared at her in wonder. Watching him cockily, she reached over and flicked on the light. She wanted to see his eyes as they ran over her naked length.

  He did not disappoint. The blue in his irises darkened into a cobalt so deep they practically glowed. She basked in his admiration.

  “Aye, you’re a bonny lass, June Winters. A very bonny lass.”

  She smiled and ran her hand down his muscular chest, loving the feel of his ridges. There was so much beauty in the sheer, raw power of his body. If she had Katie’s artistic talents, she would sketch him like this. Instead, she settled on memorizing the image of him on his knees, straddling her, his eyes burning, his muscles glistening with sweat.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she told him. The glint of surprise and doubt in his eyes shocked her. How could he not be aware of his own magnetism?

  She reached for his fly. “It’s my turn for the full show.”

  He obliged her, quickly shucking his pants and then his boxers. When his erection bobbed free, she didn’t try to hide her interest. That part was as big as the rest of him. She reached out and stroked his length with one finger. At the contact, his eyes fluttered shut, and she could see the tendons flex in his neck.

  “I’m ready for you,” June told him.

  Magnus drew a shaky breath and then said, “Nay, lass. Not yet.”

  Then he bent his head and licked her, his thumbs stroking her inner thighs. She cried out as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. He entered her in one smooth stroke. She gripped his strong shoulders as he began to move, slow and steady. The delicious friction sent sparks spiraling through her. Her fingers dug into Magnus’s skin. She began to buck against him, demanding him to move faster, harder. Instead, he maintained his teasing rhythm, until their breaths came in short staccato huffs.

  Finally, he began to pump in earnest. Their bodies slid against each other. One of his large hands massaged her breast, heightening her pleasure as he supported his weight with his other arm.

  She came first, the glorious sensation reverberating through her already sensitized body. She’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful, this deliciously complete. As she lay gasping, trying to absorb the sheer pleasure rioting through her, Magnus threw back his head. And as he exploded inside her, his body shook. June used the last of her strength to gather him close so she could feel his massive frame tremble against her slighter one. She’d fantasized about this, but the reality was more intensely erotic than she’d even imagined.

  A smile drifted over June’s lips as she lay under Magnus, fully and utterly sated. This round had been about her. The next one would be for him.

  * * *

  Magnus propped himself up as he watched June luxuriate under him, a pleased expression on her bonny face. Her green eyes had gone soft and languid as she studied him from under her eyelashes. Moving as slowly and deliberately as a sleepy gray seal, she reached up and traced shapes on his chest with her index finger.

  “Ooo, I liked that, Magnus Gray,” she purred, her voice as thick and sweet as honey from the Lowlands.

  Satisfied male pride coursed through him. He’d set out to give June pleasure and to relax her. It appeared he’d succeeded admirably at both. Not that it had been a hardship. June made love like she did everything—openly and honestly, without restraint or subterfuge. She hadn’t tried to hide her body’s
natural reaction to his touch. Instead, she’d let him witness every sensual gasp and moan. It had nearly driven him to lose control, but he’d managed to hold back until pleasure had saturated both of them.

  “Good,” Magnus told her.

  Suddenly, a wicked gleam lit her hazy green eyes, and her smile curled into a naughty grin. Her hand skimmed along his chest, dipping lower until she cupped him. Her gaze still locked on his, she began to fondle him, her fingers lightly brushing his boabie in an erotic dance. Generally, he never allowed a woman to play with him for long. Even in intercourse, he didn’t like to be touched, except for the main event. With June, though, he couldn’t get enough of her caresses.

  His arms began to shake from the exertion of holding himself up and from the havoc her touch was playing with his nervous system. Unable to maintain his position, he rolled them both over. A cheeky look flashed over June’s face. In one fluid movement, she sat back on her heels, giving him a full view of her lovely breasts. They were the perfect size to hold in a man’s hand. Pert and bouncy. She was a braw, lush lass, every bit of her.

  Between the sight of her glorious body and her long exploration of his cock, his boabie began to stir. She grinned with a confidence that charmed him as much as her body aroused. The lass was magic. Pure magic.

  “Somebody’s waking up,” she said.

  “You’re pure t-t-temptation, hen.”

  He’d never stuttered while boffing, but then again, he normally didn’t do much talking in bed. To his surprise, the verbal slip didn’t puncture the haze of pleasure surrounding them. June just looked delighted by his comment, and he reached up to cup her face. Tenderness swelled inside his heart. He couldn’t get his fill of this lass, even with her naked body astride his, her hand around his cock.

  “Get ready,” she said.