“That’s right, you said it was embarrassing. What happened?”
The memory flooded his mind. “How much do you know about sex?”
She stiffened with his question but he refused to acknowledge the shift in her body. “I understand the mechanics of it,” she finally said. “Lizzy told me it hurts the first time, but Myra told me it wasn’t bad. Does it hurt a man?”
“Ah, no.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Damn she was innocent in so many ways. “No, there wasn’t any pain with Mrs. Robbins. She didn’t even laugh when she barely touched me and I went off like a blast from a gun.”
Amber actually giggled. “That’s a bad thing…right?”
Her laughter kept him talking while he removed the band in her hair and tossed it to the side of the tub. “I was mortified. Mrs. Robbins didn’t look twice and in no time showed me how to please her.”
Amber tilted her head back when he filled his cupped hands with water and started to wash her hair. “Did you love her?”
It was his turn to laugh. “Mrs. Robbins wanted to be loved by many. Hard to grow attached to a woman like her. Besides, she was much older than me.”
“But you cared for her.”
He did…in a small way. He forgot for a moment who he was talking to and said the first thing that came to his mind. “It’s hard to not care a little for the first woman who gives you a blow job.”
Amber laughed. “A what?”
Kincaid squeezed his eyes shut and tried to throw the image of Mrs. Robbins bent over his cock from his mind.
“No!”
He opened his eyes to find Amber watching him with stunned silence. He knew she’d read his mind and didn’t try to hide it. “I guess your sisters didn’t tell you about that.”
“Truly?”
He shifted her again, and went about washing her hair with renewed vigor. “There is more to a sexual relationship between a man and a woman than intercourse.” Mrs. Robbins taught him that…thoroughly.
“In my time, a woman’s innocence is only to be given to her husband. Yet no man ever comes to his marital bed innocent. Seemed to me it wasn’t fair.”
“Which is why in time all that changes. I suppose Liz and Tara told you that.”
“Aye, they did. Yet Liz reminded me often how a woman carries the burden of a night of pleasure while a man will often leave her to it.”
He lathered the shampoo in her hair and messaged her scalp. “Preventing pregnancy was a woman’s burden, as you call it, until about fifty years from now.”
“Oh? What changes?”
“Male birth control.”
“You mean the plastic thing that goes over…well, you know.”
His “you know” was pressed against her back as she finally relaxed against him.
“Condoms… yes, there are those. But I’m talking about medicine similar to what a twenty-first century woman might use.”
“I wondered if they might have invented something like that. When Liz told me about it, I thought she was jesting. Then I thought…if the physicians of this time could come up with a solution for a woman, they must be able to come up with something for a man.”
“They did. The government funded the research as a way of controlling the population. For years, they added the steroid as a part of a routine physical for young teens. Once word got out that doctors were giving the drug to unaware patients, there was a huge revolution. After a decade the drug was re-introduced as a way for a man to never be accused of fathering a child that wasn’t his.”
“What about disease? Is that not a concern in your time?”
“We have a pill for everything.”
“Oh…” she leaned her head back and closed her eyes as he rinsed the soap from her hair. “I guess your Mrs. Robbins didn’t worry about anything then.”
No, she didn’t.
With the suds washed free, Kincaid leaned against the back of the tub and shifted one leg to lie over Amber’s. At the same time, he nudged her back until she rested against his chest. Her hand fell to his leg, and he felt the timid stroke of her fingers.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
Her eyes were closed, her lashes lay on her cheeks, and her skin smelled of the jasmine soap. The whole package warmed him in a way Mrs. Robbins never could.
“For this moment. Your shield has brought me more peace than I ever thought I’d have in my life. And you shared your most innocent moment to ease my discomfort.”
He leaned his head back and smiled. “You’re welcome.”
The words in her head filled his. I can now die a happy woman.
His eyes shot open, his jaw clenched. He searched her thoughts and found them cut off.
The image of a stream filled his mind. Instead of working past it, he envisioned it to keep Amber from his feelings. How can she think of dying? What could he do to distract her and keep her thinking of tomorrow?
Kincaid traced her arm with his index finger and enjoyed the small tremor it sent over her skin. Maybe a distraction would be the best medicine.
Though his body had relaxed against hers, it wasn’t unaware that a desirable woman was tucked between his legs.
He walked his fingers up her arm and noticed her gaze drift to his touch. He stilled his hand and tilted his lips to the top of her head. The image of the stream shifted, and he knew it was something she’d placed in her head to keep him out of her mind. When he touched her, she couldn’t concentrate and keep him away.
It wasn’t fair, he knew, but he kept touching her and wiggled deeper into her thoughts.
Perhaps it was time for Amber to learn there was more to a sexual relationship than intercourse.
Though intercourse sounded damn good to him right about now.
Chapter Fifteen
The memory of the stream close to MacCoinnich Keep kept Gavin on the very edge of her thoughts. Oh, he knocked and peeked behind the closed door, but she only allowed a shadow of her thoughts to sift through. It was amazing, really, how quickly she’d learned to filter the information he silently heard from her. It was a blessing to be using her birthright, instead of it killing her. She’d forgotten so much about life in the past decade.
I can now die a happy woman. On one level, the thought saddened her, on another, she was thankful. She wasn’t going to die in a puddle of tears without any redeeming memories of the past ten years.
Gavin drew in a breath behind her, and she thought harder about her home…about the Highlands and the endless green hills and streams she’d left behind.
The edge of Gavin’s fingers traced her arm and caught her attention.
He’d been a gentleman while he attended to her hair…a naked and aroused man, but certainly in more control than she’d thought possible.
“You have the most beautiful skin,” he told her. “Soft, silky.”
She felt his desire through her gift, but didn’t open her mind for him to hear her thoughts. For if he knew how wonderful every inch of his skin touching hers felt, he might use that information to his advantage.
Maybe his advantage wasn’t a bad option.
After all, this was most likely the last night of her life. She wasn’t about to force Gavin into a bond, and the longer they held hands, the more he’d feel obligated to keep her. His convictions toward her family had deep roots, roots she saw when they spoke. Bonding, however, was an eternal commitment, and perhaps someone else was meant for him in his life. Someone who wasn’t as broken as she was.
“Is that a practiced line, Gavin Kincaid?”
His chest rumbled next to her back, making her smile. She felt his breath against the lobe of her ear and trembled.
“That depends,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes and asked, “Depends on what?”
“If it’s working.”
Oh, it’s working. She felt, but didn’t acknowledge his hand that rested on her hip in the water.
&n
bsp; “Tell me…how would I know if it’s working?” She wasn’t sure who was teasing whom, but she enjoyed the game.
He cleared his throat, and his hand at her hip pulled her tighter against him. “Well…the words make you ask yourself if my touch…” he ran his hand with a feather-light touch along her neck, “makes your insides warm or cold. If the words make my touch feel cold…then you know it’s a line. If it makes you warm, makes you picture other places my hand can go…what it might do…then you know it’s not practiced, but sincere.”
Her throat went dry. “Where else can your touch go?”
His lips met the lobe of her ear in a gentle caress.
Her entire core clenched—her jaw, her stomach—lower in a place she knew was meant to react, but she’d never felt it respond before.
“Where do you want it to go, Amber?”
The sound of his lips saying her name made her smile. Though the thought of the stream by MacCoinnich Keep was running in the back of her head, the desire to let Gavin deep inside her made the grip on her thoughts slip.
“You’re the teacher here, Mr. Kincaid,” she used a formal name to play off his experience with Mrs. Robbins. “Why don’t you show me?”
With a voice so low she had to strain to hear it, he asked, “Are you sure?”
Words escaped her. His hands hesitated, as if asking permission before dipping into the food on a table. The urgency inside him was huge and under a thin layer of control.
He wanted her.
Though she couldn’t name what she wanted, she knew she didn’t want him to leave her like this…wet, warm, and incomplete.
Amber nodded.
The relief inside him made her smile.
Gavin’s lips slid below her ear as his tongue showed her what a simple touch could do. While her mind sucked in the feeling of his lips on her, his hand under the water reached up and took the weight of her breast. The pad of his thumb ran over her, bringing her nipple to pert attention and making everything inside her respond with need.
Need for what she couldn’t describe…but she wanted. Oh, she wanted.
“I probably shouldn’t enjoy that.”
He chuckled. “Why not?”
“I-I was taught—”
Gavin lifted her lips to his and cut her words off.
It didn’t matter what she’d been taught. Her life was never going to be what her parents predicted. This—now—was all she need concern herself with.
Gavin’s tongue stroked her bottom lip as he shifted in the cooling water to kiss her more thoroughly. His touch rippled over her skin, making her quiver. Thoughts of her troubles vanished under his kiss.
He shifted her on his leg until she was pressed fully against him and her hand rested on his chest. His body, pressed against hers, held its own armor, its own safety, and she wanted more…so much more.
Air cooled her damp skin at the same time Gavin ran his warm, hand up her back. He angled his head and kissed her deeper.
Mrs. Robbins did a fine job of teaching him to keep her warm. And his kiss…good Lord she couldn’t breathe and didn’t want to come up for air.
When his hand ran the length of her body, from breast to knee, she was possessed with a desire to touch him…all of him. Unsure of the liberties he was permitting her, she moved her hand slowly over his chest and low on his stomach.
My brave girl. The words were his, and they swam in her head.
Her lips slid away from his as he kissed her neck.
“You make me brave,” she told him.
The stream she thought of now filled her…only she hadn’t put it there…the image came from him. She wanted to ask him why he cloaked his thoughts. To do so would bring attention to the fact that she did the same to him.
His fingers ran up her knee on the inside of the thigh. “How brave do you want to be, Amber?”
“I know you won’t hurt me,” she whispered.
His eyes met hers as his hand slowly inched closer to the pulsating need resting within the apex of her thighs.
The stream in her head switched off and one thought penetrated all others. Tell me to stop and I will.
On the edge of sanity, she leaned toward him and initiated a kiss of her own.
Don’t stop.
A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he kissed her with more hunger, more urgency, yet his hand moved slowly until she felt his fingers brush against the tangle of hair at her core. The intimacy was nearly too much until he brushed against her. She jerked against him and not away.
“Oh…”
“Shh,” he moved closer, searching, until he found the place in her she hardly knew was there. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.
Her eyes closed, her head rolled back on his arm. Instantly his lips were on her neck, his kiss marking her. All the while, his fingers danced against her so slowly it made her crazy.
She felt her legs opening to him, wanting him.
He passed over the intense bundle of nerves so gently she gasped. He touched her again and her fingernails dug into his arms.
“Have you never touched yourself?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
Her head fell to the side and quickly back. “Nay…I-I…” She’d tried, more than once, but the noise in her head never left her alone to complete the task. But not now…oh, not now.
“Shh…let me show you, my innocent.”
She couldn’t stop him if she’d wanted to. His hand moved over her with intent, fingers dipping just enough to make her want more while others passed over her and made her push against him. Her breath came in short waves as her lips sat against his neck. She was pliant in his arms and completely exposed to anything Gavin wanted.
Yet it seemed all Gavin wanted was to give her pleasure.
Everywhere he touched sent waves of bliss over her. There had never been a time in her life when she felt as unguarded as she did now, without a worry or concern from the world outside. It was only her and Gavin and, with only the two of them, the world sang.
His fingers took on a rhythm, rocking against her while he whispered in her ear, telling her to relax and just feel.
When her limbs melted, obeying his words, her insides focused on one place with intensity more potent than magic could ever reach. Of its own volition, her body reached for some unknown place, found it, and shattered into a million sparkling pieces.
She called out Gavin’s name, heard the water in the tub splash against the tile on the floor, and couldn’t bring herself to worry that a man, who was not her husband, had his fingers deep inside her.
****
“Girlfriend?” Selma hissed under her breath as he stood aside for her to walk in.
“Zip it, Matilda. You owe me.”
She didn’t…not really, but this was too fun an opportunity to pass up. The driving force that brought her to his door was buried for a later discussion. Love potions and the heebie-jeebies dancing over her skin would have to wait until the twins weren’t staring at the two of them.
Jake pushed her into the kitchen where something on the stove was doing its best to send up smoke signals to the neighbors. “Oh, damn…” Jake jumped to the stove and removed the smoking pan. The black bread inside resembled some kind of a sandwich…or so Selma thought.
“That’s a quarter in the swear jar, Dad,” Kelsey said as she perched up to the kitchen counter.
“A swear jar?” Selma asked.
“Yeah, Daddy cusses—”
“A lot,” Sophie finished her sister’s sentence.
“I’m not that bad,” Jake defended himself as he tossed the ruined meal in the garbage can.
Kelsey rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Sophie picked up a mason jar that sat on the counter and shook it. From the sound of the change ringing inside, the girls had quite the college fund going.
Selma took the jar from Sophie’s hand and glanced at the writing on the homemade wrapper. Dad’s F-Bombs = $1.00, everything else .25 cents. After glancing inside the
jar and noted several green bills in the mix, Selma caught her lower lip in her teeth to keep from laughing out loud. Priceless!
“And that’s only been a week.”
“Yeah, and we’re not here all the time,” Kelsey told her. “He says he puts money in when we’re not here, but I don’t think he does.”
“Hey!” Jake scolded. “He’s right here…and I do.”
Sophie sat taller and called him out. “Then why doesn’t your girlfriend know about the jar, Dad?”
Selma cocked her head to the side and waited to see what bullshit was going to spew from his lips now. “Yeah, why doesn’t your girlfriend know about it?” she asked.
His blue eyes found hers, and she noticed a slight smile on his lips. “Because I don’t want to scare my girlfriend off by showing her all my faults.”
The girls seemed to buy his answer while the two of them stared at each other.
Selma pushed away from the counter and grabbed the spatula from his hand. “I already know about your inability to cook.”
“I’m not that bad.”
Selma glanced into the waste container. “Oh, yeah? What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“His specialty,” Kelsey boasted.
“Just not today, eh?”
“If I didn’t have to stop to answer the door, it would have been fine.”
Somehow, she doubted that. “Ah, huh.”
“It would.”
“Are you guys fighting?” Kelsey asked. “Mom says Dad will never get married again because he only knows how to fight and not communicate.”
“We’re not fighting!” Jake twisted around and grabbed two more pieces of bread, mumbling under his breath. “Damn woman.”
“That’s another quarter, Dad.” Sophie’s ears were tuned into her dad’s mouth.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Kelsey said. “John can’t cook either.”
Something had gotten up Jake’s ass, and Selma didn’t have the heart to expose it with the girls in the room. She moved to his side and helped him butter the bread to cook another sandwich. “Who’s John?” she asked, making conversation.
“That’s Mom’s fiancé.”
Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) Page 13
