Lost in Scotland

by Hilaria Alexander

  She peeked at them curiously and then leaned back in her armchair.

  “That sounds great, but I really have to finish this book, today if possible.”

  “Why today?”

  “It’s a long story,” she explained. “My very competitive sister has been asking me to read these books for the last two years, ever since we started watching the show, and now that I am in Scotland, she said it’s unacceptable that I haven’t read them yet. So, she upped her game and challenged me to a dare.”

  “What’s the dare? What happens if you don’t read them?”

  “She’s given me a deadline for each one of them. According to her, I should be done with the books by the time we wrap season one, but I don’t see how it’s possible. Each one is a thousand pages! She wants me to be done with this one by the end of today. I’m at five hundred pages now, but there’s no way that I can read another five hundred by the end of the day.”

  “What happens if you don’t finish it tonight? What’s the dare?”

  She looked down and blushed. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Come on, what is it? It can’t possibly be that bad.”

  She shook her head and straightened herself up as if she was about to leave. I grabbed her arm.

  “Sam, there’s nothing you can’t tell me. What are ye supposed to do?” I asked. I was genuinely curious, partly because these two sisters seemed to take dares very seriously, and partly because she seemed rather distraught.

  “She dared me to kiss a Scottish man. Can you imagine? What am I supposed to do, go to any guy and just say ‘Hi, I’m supposed to kiss you for a dare’?” She looked around as if she were looking for a viable candidate.

  “Sam, I’m offended. We kissed,” I said in a low voice, unable to hide the frown on my face. “Don’t I count?” I felt a little hurt, but I still managed a small laugh.

  She blushed. She looked very cute when she was flustered.

  “I told her I had already kissed a Scot, but she said it didn’t count because it was in the past. I guess I’m going to finish these five hundred pages today.” She made a face and raised her eyebrows.

  I cleared my throat. “Ye wound me. I would gladly offer my services to get ye out of a dare.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m not sure that after this week you deserve to come anywhere near my lips.” Ouch. That hurt, but I kept my sexy face on and gave her an intense look.

  “Oh, please. Quit it with the smolder, will ya?”

  “Ouch! I must be losing my touch.” I pouted, and she laughed at my dismay. I loved seeing her laugh. Then, I had a brilliant idea.

  “How about this? I will give you some time to think about it.”

  “Oh, how generous of you. No than—”

  “And you can go read at my place. You will definitely be more comfortable there.” She frowned. “Here,” I said, placing my keys on the table. “I won’t be home for a few more hours.”

  “Oh. That’s awfully nice, but I don’t think I can do that, Hugh.”

  “Why? You need a quiet place, and I’m offering you a quiet place. I guarantee there will be fewer distractions than there would be there.”

  “Okay then…thank you,” she said, grabbing the keys off the table. She stood and put her jacket on. She moved closer, and I got a whiff of her heavenly scent. “Look, I appreciate the offer, as long as it comes with no strings attached—understood?”

  “Understood,” I replied absentmindedly, imagining all kinds of scenarios with strings attached. Was she really going to make me suffer for keeping my distance this week? I knew I sort of deserved it, but I needed to know if there was a chance she’d reconsider. I watched her walk away then joined the guys at the bar. They quizzed me about Sam, asking me what was going on. I was able to deflect some of their questions by ordering a couple of rounds of whisky, and when the first soccer game of the day came on, they were distracted enough to forget all about it.

  Later that afternoon, I went back to my place, and it only occurred me when I was right outside the door that I didn’t have my keys since I had given them to Sam. I rang the bell multiple times and started yelling her name against the door, feeling intoxicated. Multiple rounds of alcohol will do that to you, but I wasn’t completely pissed, though; I was just on the edge of happily inebriated.

  She opened the door, and I fought the impulse to take her in my arms and kiss her right then. She had been on my mind all day, even after she’d left the pub, and the alcohol only made me feel more reckless. Maybe it was just the right amount of reckless… I wanted her, and I knew she felt the same way. Even today, when she had been trying to resist me, I could see it in her eyes. She wanted me just like I wanted her. Why should I stop? Why should I stop myself when I wanted her so badly?

  “Hey! You’re back.” She closed the door behind me, and I took my jacket off.

  “How did the reading go?” I asked her in a low voice.

  “I only have two hundred pages left. You were right—I just needed a quiet place. Thanks for letting me crash. I’ll go back home now.”

  “No!” I said a little too loudly. “Stay. You don’t need to go anywhere. I’ll…I’ll just go take a shower upstairs. I won’t bother you.”

  “What? This is your place. I’m the one who doesn’t want to intrude.”

  “And I don’t want you to lose your bet.” Or do I? “Stay. It’s no problem, really.”

  I went upstairs and took a shower. I resisted the urge to stroke my cock under the warm water, but I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about her body. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about touching her…everywhere. So, inevitably, I got a hard-on, and I had to switch the water to cold to make it go away. Part of me was afraid she would leave while I was upstairs, and I still wanted to find an excuse to hang out with her, especially since I never got the chance to spend any time with her away from the set.

  Did I need to be more straightforward with her and show her how much I wanted her? I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, but being charming was never an issue for me—so why did I feel so nervous around this woman? My stomach was in knots, the anticipation killing me. She piqued my curiosity like no one else had. She was beautiful, but there was also an air of mystery about her. She was fun to be around, but her eyes were occasionally veiled with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  When I went downstairs, she was still sitting on the couch, and I exhaled a breath of relief. I wanted to hang out with her, even if she didn’t want to kiss me.

  She smiled as I took a seat on the couch next to her, and in that moment, I decided.

  Last time, she’d initiated the kiss. This time, I would be the one to kiss her.

  Sam

  I was sitting next to Hugh MacLeod. Reading. On his couch. In his townhouse. When I’d woken up earlier that morning to Cecilia’s moans and her bed frame thumping against the wall, I’d thought the day was going to be shitty from beginning to end.

  Instead, I rather enjoyed the turn of events. I’d been able to knock out a lot of chapters, but now that Hugh was here, I couldn’t concentrate on reading anymore. I was too distracted by him, and I read the same line over and over. He was watching TV but had turned the volume very low so it wouldn’t bother me.

  When I kissed him in Edinburgh the week before, I knew he wanted me. I could feel how turned on he was by the way he kissed me, the way he touched me. I could still remember how his body felt against mine, could still remember how it felt to be wrapped in his strong arms.

  Mother of pearl, I would have seriously fucked him in the back of that sedan if he’d been up for it, but we’d had to head back, and there was no time…and I needed to take my time with him. I needed to explore every inch of his marvelous, statuesque body. I’d expected we’d resume the conversation during the week, but he had kept his distance. It was true that we had virtually no time and were never alone all week. We had been shooting away from the set, and he had been sharing the trailer with other actor
s to facilitate things. He could have texted me, but he didn’t at all, which made me think he didn’t feel the same way I did about him. It was his turn to show me he wanted me.

  He had taken a shower, and now he smelled even better than usual, the clean scent pervading the space between us. His brown hair fell on his forehead; it was getting longer, and although it was overall wavy rather than curly, it formed small curls on the back of his neck. A few strands were still wet, and I fought the impulse to run my fingers through it. He hadn’t shaved and was sporting the couple-days-old stubble I was all too familiar with. It was the length we usually kept it at for continuity purposes. He had changed into a black tee that said Slay Hard with the name of the show underneath, one of the promotional items the network had sent over. It stretched across his biceps, which was another reason I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was wearing loose black pants that sparked my curiosity. I hadn’t had sex in months—it was only normal to be curious and fantasize about his package, right? Listening to Cecilia getting some had only gotten me hornier. I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to throw me across the couch and take me—if that was what he wanted. I needed him to be the one to make the first move this time.

  I considered leaving before I did something stupid, like throwing myself at him—again. However, I had just tried to do so a few minutes ago, and he had told me to stay. It would have been rude to try to leave again, wouldn’t it?

  I lifted my eyes from my tablet and looked in his direction again. I stared at his beautiful profile, his straight nose, his jaw—I wanted to run a finger along the length of it. He looked so stoic and absorbed in what he was watching—some Formula One race by the looks of it—and I smiled to myself. I didn’t peel my eyes from him fast enough, and he caught me. He raised both eyebrows at me, his eyes dark, and then he let out a deep breath as his lips curved in a smile.

  I reached for my mug and took a sip of my drink.

  “Oh! I didn’t think about it—would you like something to drink?”

  “You’re offering me something to drink…in my house?” he asked, raising one eyebrow, one corner of his mouth tipping up. “I’m a terrible host.” He frowned, looking truly disappointed in himself.

  “No, no. See, I grabbed some vodka and orange juice on the way over—actually, I stopped at the house to get it, and…you don’t want to know what I had to listen to,” I said with a laugh. “Seriously. Those two need to tone it down a notch. After tonight, I’m having a talk with Cecilia.” I walked to the kitchen with my glass in hand and grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge. I poured the vodka in a glass and mixed it with the juice, then made myself another round in my mug. “Hopefully, they’ll stop going at it like rabbits,” I said, rolling my eyes and handing Hugh his glass. He was laughing, and his eyes looked so beautiful when he did, shining even brighter. As he took the glass from me, his fingers brushed over mine, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. I need him to touch me. I sat down on the couch and raised my glass in his direction.

  “To your hospitality,” I said.

  He laughed. “To a perfect guest,” he replied. We clinked our glasses. “Slàinte.”

  “Do dheagh shlàinte,” I told him. I knew it meant something like to your good health; Rupert had taught me that.

  “Very good, Sam,” he replied with a wicked smile. We took a big sip of our drinks. “We really should be drinking whisky, though. Next time, maybe.” Next time. Was there going to be a next time? His words made my heart do somersaults in my chest.

  “How many more pages?” he asked as he placed his drink down on the coffee table. I did the same.

  “Errr…a hundred and eighty-four. I can make it.”

  “That’s too bad,” he replied in a grave tone. He gave me a look so dark and intense, it could have easily melted my underwear. His words confused me, though.

  “Why is that?” I asked with a frown.

  “Because I would have willingly helped ye with your dare.” His eyes never left me, and now they were fixated on my lips. He took the tablet out of my hand and placed it on the coffee table. He did want to kiss me then, and I wanted him to, although I did want him to grovel a bit for the radio silence he’d given me all week.

  He scooted closer to me on the couch.

  I had fantasized about kissing him again—a lot—but now I couldn’t move. I was petrified. He ran his fingers across my cheek, and just the feel of his skin on mine sparked a wave of heat in my belly. He loosened up my ponytail. I licked my bottom lip and leaned in closer, and he did the same. My breathing became faster and labored, my heart playing a rhythm that resembled some kind of tribal-like tune inside my chest. I thought I knew his face so well, but now that we were sitting like this, I caught other details I tried not to focus on when I was doing my job. The specks of darker blue in his irises, the lines of the tiny wrinkles around them. The translucency of the skin under his eyes. The red and the gold in his stubble. Our noses brushed, and I looked up at him, serious and impenetrable. His lips parted slightly, and I almost wanted to bite him, but he needed to take the lead. He tipped my chin up with a finger before pressing his lips on mine. This was it. We were kissing. Again.

  His lips didn’t leave mine for a few seconds. He cradled my head at the nape of my neck just as the tip of his tongue parted my lips, finding mine. Adrenaline coursed through my body, and I felt a rush from my head all the way to my toes. My tongue wrapped around his eagerly, kissing him back in slow, long strokes. His stubble tickled my skin, and I ran my fingers through his hair, holding him close, not wanting to let go.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine, and I cradled his jaw.

  “There, you fulfilled your dare.”

  My dare? Was this just about the stupid dare? My face fell.

  “Fuck—”

  He pressed a finger against my lips, silencing me with a teasing look. “No, that’s not the only reason I did it. I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you again since last week, Sam, and now that I had another taste, I dinna want to stop. I want to kiss ye again and again, until ye beg for mercy,” he said, his voice low and seductive, sending a shudder down my spine. My breath hitched, and I met his eyes, which were charged with intent. A moment later, he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me on top of him as if I weighed nothing. He marveled at my closeness, his hands running up and down my sides, his eyes full of excitement, as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch first.

  I pressed my hands into the couch on either side of him to keep my balance and then teased him, offering my mouth and then pulling back. The smirk that appeared on his face was worth it. I lowered myself again and kissed him, this time taking control, exploring his mouth, licking his lips, biting gently on the soft skin of his bottom lip. I could feel him hard against me, and I grinded my hips against his. He moaned in my mouth, and adrenaline rushed through me.

  We were making out, and if I let things progress, I could end up in his bed. Tonight. I really, really wanted to, but I was afraid it would make things complicated at work, and at the moment, I didn’t need complicated. I needed simple.

  But…I also needed a man. I needed this. Flesh and bone under my fingers. Muscle. So much muscle. Damn, he was so sexy, and he was such an amazing kisser. If this was the way he moved his tongue, I couldn’t wait to see what else he could do with it.

  I clearly wasn’t the only one to have these kinds of thoughts—his hands were all over me. He grabbed my ass, pushing it down on him, kneading the skin with his hands. His impatient fingers skimmed under my turtleneck, caressing my skin, going up, all the way to my breasts. He touched them gently and gave them a soft squeeze.

  He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. He rested his head on the couch and looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. He caressed my face and ran his fingers through my hair.

  “You’re so fucking sexy, Sam. I’ve wanted ye since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  “The first time? When I was talking to my m
om?”

  He laughed. “Okay, maybe the second time, when you called out my name as if ye knew me.”

  “An honest mistake.”

  “A beautiful mistake. I have been fascinated with you ever since, and I can’t even count how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

  My eyes widened in surprise, and a small laugh escaped my mouth. I covered my face with both my hands, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring my cheeks. He captured both of them and wrapped them around his neck, bringing my face closer to his.

  “What? Ye mean you never thought of me that way?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow. The smile on his face told me he didn’t believe me. He wasn’t wrong.

  I rolled my eyes, letting out an awkward laugh. “A lot, actually—more than I’d like to admit.” A big, bright smile stretched across his face, and I leaned down, kissing him as if it were the first time all over again. As he continued his exploration of my skin, I raised my arms and took off my sweater. I made him take off his shirt, and then I kissed his shoulders and traced the line of his chest, marveling at the beauty of him. I trailed kisses on his neck, down to his chest, the fresh scent of his skin tingling my senses. His fingers traveled into my pants, underneath my underwear, caressing my ass. He teased my wet center from behind while moving his other hand to my front, stroking my clit. I stared into his eyes, determined, dark with sheer desire. To hell with everything.

  I wanted him, and as risky as it was, it felt right.

  The flickering of his fingers against me increased just as a buzzing sound made the couch tremble with vibrations.

  My phone.

  Dammit.

  I decided to ignore it, and after a while, it went silent.

  “Keep going. I want you,” I whispered.

  A moment later, it started buzzing again.

  “Fuck!” I muttered.

  Hugh laughed softly. “Maybe you should answer.”