Notorious in a Kilt

by Anna Durand

  "Ah." He withdrew his hand. "I've dredged up bad memories for you, by being here."

  "It's not your fault. Just the way it is."

  He rubbed a hand over his mouth. "I understand. You need more time. Take all of it you need, Rae, ahmno leaving until ye make me."

  Maybe I should've ordered to leave right here and now, but I couldn't. Having him around took me back to those days before the shit storm made landfall, back when we were two people reveling in the glory of falling in love.

  If I couldn't tell him everything, I could at least share one more tidbit that might explain my reaction to his return. "There's another thing."

  With his gaze steadily on me, I clamped my hands over the top board of the fence and focused on the green hills in the distance. "After CeCe and her family chased you away, I went home to Iowa to lick my wounds in private. Or so I thought. My parents were very understanding once I told them the gist of what went down."

  "You told them about us?" Iain asked carefully.

  "Not the X-rated details, but yes. I told them we were involved, and I told them what CeCe had done to break us apart." I leaned into the fence, staring down at my fingers curled over the wood. "Ten days later, weird things started happening. I drove into town with my mom, and while we were in the grocery store, somebody slashed our tires. The next morning, a rock crashed through my bedroom window at five a.m., and the day after that, our garage got spray-painted with graffiti saying 'bitch' and 'whore' and similar things. My dad called the police, but there wasn't much they could do without any evidence of the culprit's identity. They found footprints, but they came from a popular brand of sneakers. Things like that kept happening for about a week, then I caught the culprit in the act."

  I paused, remembering the night I'd heard a noise outside my bedroom and peeked out to see a familiar figure there. Even now, I had trouble believing it.

  "Who was it?" Iain asked.

  "Cecelia Bremner-Ashton."

  "It was—Why would she do that to you?"

  "Why would she stalk and terrorize me?" I huffed. "She's nuts. When I saw her skulking outside my bedroom window, she ran off. My dad called the police. They caught her fleeing the scene in her Mercedes convertible, roaring down the highway like a bat out of hell. The next morning, her father and a psychiatrist came to retrieve her. Conrad Bremner-Ashton stopped by our house to apologize for his daughter's behavior. She was 'fragile' and 'high-strung' and I should forgive her because her fiance had dumped her a month ago. My forgiveness would help her recovery, since she was headed to a rehab center back home. I had no idea she'd been engaged, but I didn't give a flying fuck. She had no excuse for the things she'd done—to me and to you. I told Conrad to go jump into a sticker bush."

  Iain chuckled softly. "I'm fair certain he didn't appreciate your sarcasm."

  "Not sarcasm. I wanted to toss him into a pit of rattlesnakes." I picked at the wood board under my hands. "Instead, I cried. A lot."

  "Rae…" Iain slipped an arm around my shoulders. "I should've been there for you."

  "Doesn't matter. Regrets are pointless, we can't change the past."

  "Aye, we can't."

  We stood in silence for several seconds until I started to fidget and he cleared his throat, withdrawing his arm. In bed, we were at ease with each other. The rest of the time…

  I pushed away from the fence. "Isn't sex supposed to make us more comfortable with each other? Not feeling that yet."

  "Cannae be comfortable after the conversation we've had."

  "Guess you're right. Ripping open old wounds is bound to put us both on edge."

  He roved his gaze up and down my body, admiring every curve, his lips kinking into the start of a sensual smirk. "We need to take the edge off."

  The heat in his eyes and in his voice ignited a smoldering fire inside me. How he could make me so hot with one look, I had no clue. I didn't care why, though, only that he made me feel this way.

  I stepped closer and flattened my palms on his chest. "Let's smooth out those edges right now."

  He whipped a condom packet out of his pocket and grinned. "On the grass or in the barn?"

  Laughter bubbled out of me like champagne fizz. "Do you always have a condom in your pocket?"

  "You are a randy lass. Pays to be prepared."

  I plastered my body to his, linking my arms around his neck, rubbing against the hard lump inside his pants. "Hurry up and fuck me, Dr. MacTaggart. Show me how notorious you really are."

  His breaths came faster and heavier. His gaze, hooded and stormy, blazed into me even as his cock grew harder. The knowledge of how much he wanted me got me even hotter, my body throbbing and tingling in all the right places. When I wriggled against him, the granite line of his erection scraped against my belly and my nipples raked over his firm chest. The fabric between us couldn't dampen the sensation—or my ravenous hunger for him.

  "Please," I moaned, rising onto my toes to nibble his ear. I dragged my tongue down his throat, earning a deep groan from him. "Do it now. I want it quick and hard and dirty."

  "Fuck, Rae, yer the sexiest—" His words choked off when I, boosted up on my toes, ground my crotch against his cock. "Verdammt nochmal."

  He swept me up in his arms and carted me into the barn. Just inside the doors, he hesitated, glancing around like he was searching for the perfect spot in which to fuck me. His chin lifted, and he flashed me a smug smile.

  Then he carried me toward one of the empty horse stalls and set me down on my feet, positioned to the left of half door to the stall. Cheeks ruddy, eyes blazing with need, he drank me in for a moment, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.

  I reached for him.

  He grasped my waist and flipped me around, mashing me to the wall with his body. "Do ye trust me, sunshine?"

  "Yes," I breathed.

  Pinned like this, I could see him only in my peripheral vision, glimpses of his movements. Sounds told me what he was doing. The metallic zing of his zipper when he tore it open. The whump of his pants falling down to his ankles. The ripping of a condom packet.

  One of his big hands slid around to my navel, and he found the button of my jeans, tearing it open. He jerked my zipper down, and with both hands, yanked my jeans and panties down to my ankles.

  "Still trust me?" he said, his mouth on my ear, his entire body covering me.

  "I do."

  He kicked my feet apart, grasped my hips, and drove his cock into me.

  A gasp exploded out of me. The thrill of him consuming me, the pressure of his length buried deep inside, it had me shuddering with need. When he pinned my wrists above my head with one of his hands, I rocked my hips backward in a desperate attempt to take him even deeper. His body secured me to the wall, the heat of him penetrating my clothes, his every movement flexing all those muscles against me. I rocked back again. A long, low groan rumbled in his chest and vibrated into me.

  He thrust hard and fast, ruthless in his lust. I had little leverage to move or touch him, and so I gave in to the dominant man pinning me to the wall. He shoved a hand between my body and the wall, found my clit, and rubbed it with merciless vigor. A sharp cry burst out of me. I had no time to consider the fact he'd squeezed a noise out of me for the first time because his relentless, punishing thrusts drove me beyond reason, beyond thought, beyond caring about anything except him and the way he made me feel.

  Wanted. Needed. Worshiped. Gloriously sexy.

  That finger rubbed my clit faster, harder. His cock plowed into me again and again. The scorching pleasure robbed me of breath, set my heart to pounding like a giant drum inside my chest. Whimpering cries tumbled from my lips, but I didn't give a damn. Even the wet sucking sounds every time he drove into me barely registered in my fevered mind.

  His hips pumped wildly, crushing me into the wall. His hoarse grunts escalated into shouts and roars.

  My climax seized my entire body, and I screamed. "Iain!"


  I rode out the pleasure, my sex clenching and releasing around his shaft, while he pounded into me several more times. At last, his body went rigid, and with a throaty bellow, he came inside me, his release pulsating and drawing one last spasm out of me.

  We held still, bound to each other in the most intimate way, reveling in the afterglow of incredible orgasms. I fought for breath, and so did he. In our mutual state of speechlessness, neither of us seemed willing to move even one millimeter. I felt him inside me, softened but not flaccid. If I could've spoken, I would've begged him to never pull out, to stay with me forever.

  He kissed my neck, his stubble tickling my skin.

  I moaned, limp and sated beyond belief.

  He shifted his mouth to my ear. "I love you, Rae."

  My heart thudded, my mouth went dry.

  Iain stepped back, leaving me empty and alone. He pulled up my panties and jeans, zipped them, and hooked the button. Patting my behind, he said, "That took the edge off, eh?"

  The smirk I couldn't see colored his voice.

  Spinning around, I jabbed a finger at him. "You can't say that right after sex and then act like you didn't say it."

  He angled his head, eying me with a twinkle in his eyes. "Say what, sunshine?"

  "That you…love me."

  "Ahhh, that." He gave me his Buddha smile. "Since you don't want me to say it at all, why does it matter when I say the words? I do love you, and I won't pretend otherwise."

  I was being irrational, and I knew it. Every time he called me "sunshine," I got confused. When he said those three words, I panicked. Why?

  Dammit. I knew why. I was terrified I might be—possibly, maybe, only a smidgen—falling for Iain all over again.

  Falling for the man who'd left me once before? Bad idea. Falling for the father of my child who had no idea he was a father? Monumentally bad idea. Falling all over again for the only man I'd ever loved? That was dangerous.

  Iain watched me with that infernally serene expression, his pants still lumped around his ankles, his half-erect penis dangling. How on earth could the man look so relaxed with his dick hanging out? He really didn't care a fig about exposing himself. Iain MacTaggart had always had no shame.

  Me, I had big old steamer trunk full of mine, like a dead and dismembered body stuffed inside that trunk and waiting to be discovered.

  I shoved a hand into my jeans pocket, relieved to find my phone still there and undamaged. Yanking out the phone, I waved it at Iain. "Gotta call and check on my daughter."

  Shoulders back, head high, I marched out of the barn and left my half-naked lover alone.