Chisholm Brothers 02 On Tap

by Donna Kauffman

  He settled his hands on her hips, keeping her body up against his as she steadied herself. She reached for his face, to pull his mouth back down to hers, but he moved back, just slightly. “Yer sure o’ this, Daisy? Sure of me?”

  “I’d have stopped you long before now if I weren’t. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  “Ye need to know—you’re no passing fancy for me. I dinnae believe in just carrying on for the sake of it. I should be courting you properly, doing this right, makin’ ye see we can find a balance first, and—you’re around me for five minutes and I can’t think straight. I’m no’ handling this properly and I shouldn’t chance ruining anything by rushing—”

  She grinned. “Reese.”

  “What?”

  “Get me naked and make love to me properly. We’ll balance the rest later.”

  “Dear God in heaven,” he breathed, sounding so relieved. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He’d been so confident, so certain, so assured in the way he’d literally carried her to his bed. She hadn’t realized he’d been nervous or worried. That he had been, that he’d stopped long enough to ask her, when it was clear she wouldn’t have stopped him from doing pretty much anything he wanted to her, made her heart swell, and tip even further in his direction. She stroked the side of his face, then curved a hand around the back of his head and tugged him down to her, while simultaneously unbuttoning his shirt with the other. “I’m asking,” she said softly. “Take me to bed, Reese Chisholm.”

  “Och, Daisy, the things you do to a man.” He pulled her into his arms, trapping her hand between them.

  “The only man I want doing anything to me, is you.”

  He took her mouth again, only this time there was a fierceness to it, a visceral edge, as if he were claiming her instead of merely joining with her. His hands slid down her back, then up beneath her shirt as he took the kiss deeper.

  She moaned at the feel of his hands against the bare skin at the small of her back. She pressed against him, wishing she was still straddling him as her hips were too far below his to match need for need. She yanked his shirt from his waistband, but he grabbed her wrist. She looked up him, surprised to find him grinning. He really should do that more often. It did things to her. Really amazing things.

  “You said I should get you naked. I dinnae recall there bein’ any talk of myself.”

  She smiled back. “I assumed that was understood.”

  He spun her around and laid her back across his bed. It felt like she’d fallen through a cloud. “Oh,” she said in surprise, then followed that with a deep sigh of appreciation. “Wow.”

  One side of his mouth curved in a wicked grin. “And I’m no’ even undressed yet.”

  She laughed, really enjoying this side of him. She hadn’t thought she could feel any needier. She’d never been more wrong. “I was talking about your bed. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt.”

  “I can but hope that’s the only thing you find soft this eve.”

  She pushed up on her elbows and very deliberately let her gaze run over him from head to toe, and, with lingering appreciation, back up again. “I don’t believe that will be a problem.”

  His eyes flared and she squirmed on the bed. She pressed her thighs together against the growing ache between them. He pushed his knee between her legs, parting them as he bent low over her, toying with the buttons on the front of her shirt. “I want tae see all of you, Daisy.” He plucked her buttons open one at a time, pushing her shirt apart as he did.

  Her hips bucked a little and her nipples were hard as rocks. Between the rough accent and the look in his eyes, she was all but quivering at this point. She wanted to grab him, any part of him, and put it where she needed him most. She wanted his mouth on her breasts and the rigidly hard length of him buried deep inside her. She groaned at the very idea, as he continued his excruciatingly slow removal of her clothes.

  He released the front catch of her bra and bared her to him. The cooler air brushed over her hot skin, making her nipples tighten further. Her back arched of its own volition as her body tried to get closer to his touch.

  “You’re lovelier than I even imagined.” He glanced from his approval of her bare breasts, to her eyes. “And I’ve imagined you plenty these past weeks.” He pushed the flimsy bra and shirt aside, completely baring her to him.

  She was trembling for his touch, so highly aroused the very air on her skin made her moan. “Reese,” she pleaded.

  “Oh, aye,” he assured her. “A man could get drunk just on the vision of you.” Slowly, so slowly she thought her heart might burst from her chest, so fast it was racing, he lowered his mouth to her. With the tip of his tongue, he circled her nipple, jerking a cry of pleasure from her. She reached for his head, wanting more than that teasing tip, but he swiftly pinned her wrists over her head with his hand. “Allow me this pleasure.” He glanced up, his eyes almost completely black in the low light. “We’ve all night, after all.”

  She moaned and let her head drop back on the bed. Dear God, she wasn’t sure she’d survive this slow, intoxicating torture. She was used to calling the shots. Men claimed they liked to be in control, but she’d never met one yet that minded a woman taking over and giving all her attention to his pleasure. In her past life, she’d always been pressed for time and found it saved a lot if she just took matters into her hands, as it were.

  But now…here…tonight…She squirmed beneath his continued attentions. Relaxing was near to impossible in this situation. She wanted to urge him to go faster, to get on with it…and then he took her nipple between his lips and slowly suckled her, almost making her climax right then and there.

  His groan of pleasure, almost a growl, as he continued his exploration, kept her from dragging her hands free and rolling him to his back. If she straddled him, she seriously doubted he’d stop her. She could quite clearly see the effect she was having on him, and—“Oh,” she gasped, when he pulled on her nipple, then let it pop free. Only to make her gasp again when he did the same to the other. God, but that felt…“Ohh,” she groaned, her hips moving again without her consent. Her arms went limp, her wrists his to control. “Don’t stop that,” she pleaded, when he shifted his mouth away. “That’s—” It was her turn to growl when he again suckled her nipple. She’d never felt such a direct connection between them and the intensely pleasurable ache between her legs.

  Assured she would keep her hands above her head, he slid his hand down her arm, then slipped it behind her back, arching her to him, so he could pull her bra and shirt completely off. He kept his tongue—and teeth—busy on the budded tips of her breasts, until she thought she’d go mad if he didn’t pay attention to her—“Yes,” she moaned as he laid her back against the bed, and let his tongue draw a lazy trail down the center of her torso.

  She’d spent so much time imagining doing this very thing to him, she’d neglected to imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end. It was doubtful she could have done it justice, anyway.

  He toyed with her nipples, rolling their damp tips between his fingers, then shifted to unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. With little urging, she lifted her hips so he could slide them off. Her sandals fell to the floor along with them. All she had on was string bikini panties of pale yellow cotton, which he left on. Much to her initial dismay.

  Soon, however, she found she didn’t mind so much.

  He pulled her toward him so he could kneel at the edge of the bed between her thighs. Her arms extended over her head and lay there, limply, as she focused exclusively on the delicious sensations he was creating by running his tongue along the elastic edge of her panties. Normally, by now she’d be dragging clothes off of her partner, in somewhat of a frenzy to get on with it. Said partner rarely ever minded, of course. There was always more work to be done, deadlines to be met. Pleasure was something scheduled in between client meetings and sales conferences.

  At the moment, she couldn’t imagine there being a
nything more important in her entire world than what Reese Chisholm was presently doing between her thighs. In fact, the only urgent thing about this moment was the anticipation of what else was to come. Mainly her, and soon, if—“Oh, please, you have the rest of my life to stop doing that.”

  She felt, rather than heard, him chuckle. He teased his tongue down the center of the cotton panel, then pulled it between his lips, soaking it further, teasing her through the wet fabric until she wanted to claw them off and let him finally, blessedly, get to where she needed him to be. In fact, she was lifting her hands to do just that when he pressed her hips to the bed. “Let me play,” he said, glancing up at her. “I’ve waited too long for this. I dinnae want to rush.”

  Who could turn down such a sincere request? Not her, as it turned out. She let her arms go limp once again, then a split-second later arched her back sharply as she gasped when he pushed his tongue against her.

  He slid his hands down her hips, and, with excruciating slowness, peeled the straps of her bikinis down with him. He kept his tongue pressed firmly against her as he slowly, oh so slowly, peeled back the damp cotton. As the night air brushed her damp curls, she bucked against his mouth, cursing the thin layer of cotton that still separated that devil of a tongue from her—“Yes!” She thrust her hips against him as he finally pulled her panties down enough to let his tongue slip up and over her, then plunge deeply inside of her.

  She bucked almost violently as she climaxed instantly. Again and again, the waves of it rushed over and through her. She was reaching for him again, wanting him to slide up and push the best part of him into the now throbbing, wet, and waiting part of her. Once again, he stilled her by pinning her hips to the bed.

  “Surely there is another,” he murmured against the damp skin of her inner thigh.

  “Another?” she asked weakly. She was still feeling the twitchy aftershocks of the first one. Usually she’d be well on her way to milking the one and only orgasm she was lucky to get for all it was worth, by taking her partner for his final, climactic ride. Meetings were scheduled. No time to tarry and linger. But she wasn’t in D.C. anymore.

  She was in the Scottish highlands. In a small stone croft. With a man who wasn’t in the least bit of a hurry. Here it was, closing in on midnight. And there were no meetings scheduled, no early morning conference calls to take, no clients to pick up from the red-eye at the airport. In fact, the only thing she had on her agenda for the rest of the night, and quite possibly the rest of her life…was—thank you, God—more of this.

  “Another,” she repeated, then smiled like the Cheshire cat as she stretched and released a deep sigh. For the first time in her adult life, she felt well and truly at peace. “Why, I believe I will.”

  Another chuckle tickled her skin, making her twitch. He teased her with the tip of his tongue, softly, gently, building her up again. He drew fingertips across her stomach and up to her now neglected nipples. Toying with them again made her squirm. What he was doing with his tongue only heightened the sensation. He took her up slowly this time, let her roll her hips, find her rhythm with him. And just when she was close, he slowly slid his finger inside of her.

  She gasped, and quite deliciously peaked all over again, squeezing hard against his finger, pushing up against his tongue, squirming against the way he flicked the tips of his fingers across one nipple, then the other. The waves rolled, and rolled, and she thought they’d never stop. She was still riding the crest when she felt him grip her hips and slide her back up the bed.

  She hadn’t realized her eyes were shut, her neck arched, until she felt his bare skin brush hers as he moved his body up between her legs. Her eyelids, so heavy now, opened to discover the absolutely brilliant sight of a very naked, very aroused Reese Chisholm. She was so drowsy, so sated, her body so sunken into the puffy down bed, she had to work to form words. “My turn,” she mumbled.

  He smiled. “You’ll have your go at me, I assure you. But I’m not quite done with my turn yet.”

  “I wanted to undress you.”

  “The very next time I have clothes on, you have my full permission to take them off.” He settled his weight between her legs and she could feel him so hard, the damp tip of him ready for her. “But I confess I don’t plan on donning any for the foreseeable future.”

  “Brilliant.” She groaned, bucking her hips against him, trying to get him to push every one of those brilliantly hard inches inside of her. “Good show.”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, bit her ear, and the brush of the hair on his chest teasing her so sensitive nipples made her back arch again.

  “Your accent needs a lo’ of work, luv,” he told her.

  “So teach me.”

  “Come here,” he said softly, but with a quiet urgency that had her turning her head and opening her eyes once again.

  “What?” she said, his lips so close to hers now that when she spoke, they brushed each other.

  “I just wanted to be looking into your eyes, the first time I did this.” And with that, he gripped her hips, lifted her slightly, and drove fully inside of her.

  His growl was low, long, and intensely gratifying. He stayed deep, pressing his forehead against her hair, his breathing uneven. “Bloody hell. I’m no’ going tae last long, I’m afraid.”

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him even deeper. “So?” And she laughed as she began to move beneath him. “You in a hurry to go somewhere?”

  He grunted, tried to hold back, but a split-second later he gave in and began to match her, thrust for thrust. “Nay. I’ll be…right here…until ye kick me off.”

  Then he buried his face in the curve of her neck and took her with him until they were both panting and grunting, their bodies slapping together as they both went about staking their claim on one another. And that was exactly how she felt. Both taker and taken.

  “Daisy,” he panted, nudging her face back to his. They were both glistening with sweat, and he felt so incredibly good inside of her.

  “Right here,” she told him, staring into his eyes. And she realized right then that if she’d been looking for home, she’d just found it.

  “Aye. And that’s where ye’ll stay, if I have a say in the matter.” Then, as his back arched, he pulled her legs up higher and buried himself as deeply as he could, shuddering through a climax that rocked them both.

  He gathered himself up and rolled from her, taking her with him, nestling her against his chest as they both stared blindly at the walls and fought to catch their breath. He toyed with the long strands of her hair, she stroked the crinkly soft hair on his chest. “What say tomorrow we take a grander tour,” he said at length, his voice still a bit rough.

  Fighting a yawn—when had she ever felt so replete?—she smiled and propped her chin on his chest. “What sort of grand tour? And would this be an after-work excursion? Because I have this new client, and I hear he’s quite demanding.”

  He surprised a squeal out of her, rolling her swiftly to her back and pinning her amidst the pile of bedding. “Aye, that he is.” He wiggled his eyebrows and it was so completely out of character with the man she had so swiftly fallen for, that she burst out laughing. He immediately adopted a mock wounded look. “A bloke could get a complex now.”

  She quickly reached up to stroke his face, knowing quite well that the smile now curving her lips was decidedly wicked. “The only complex you’re going to have is figuring out how to juggle my demands with yours.”

  His eyes widened. So did his smile. “Really, now. You don’t say.”

  “I do say.” She slipped her hands down his back and over his buttocks. Finely formed as they were, she lingered there a bit.

  He pinned her wandering hands back over her head. “About this tour…”

  “I thought I was already taking one. And quite grand it ‘twas.”

  “Yer accent wavers between Scot and a nice Irish brogue.”

  “I guess you’ll have to work on me. It. I meant i
t.”

  “Sure ye did.” He grinned, nipped at her bottom lip, then took it in his mouth, before slowly turning it into a long, savoring kiss.

  She sighed deeply when he lifted his head, and stretched languorously beneath him. “I could get used to that.” She bumped her hips up. “And this.”

  “Good. I don’t fancy lettin’ ye go anytime soon.”

  Any other time in her life, she’d have already been in the bathroom, washing up, gathering clothes, checking her BlackBerry. At the moment, she couldn’t fathom why anybody would want to do something as mundane as think about their job. Ever. “So…about this tour…”

  He rolled to his back and took her with him so she sprawled across his chest. “I was thinking perhaps we’d play hooky.” When she raised her eyebrows, he mimicked her. “Aye, I know. Scandalous behavior for two such fine, upstanding citizens.”