I wrap the shawl around Chloe, ensuring she’s all snug before I stand. Jackson is standing, his eyes on me, and he’s waiting. I smile at him and step out from our row. I silently curse him when he waits for my mother. I glance over my shoulder as he takes her arm. She’s beaming and talking away to him as though she knows him, and he’s grinning. “Nice arse,” he mouths, not even trying to hide that he’s checking me out.
I glance down at Chloe and she’s finally asleep. She changes every time I see her. I feel as though I’ve missed out on so much time with her. She’s my only niece, after all. Hopefully, with being at home more, I can spend more time with her. I want her to grow up having fun and being spoiled by her auntie.
Outside in the warm air, the happy couple pose for pictures along with the bridal party and family. I’m kind of jealous of the wedding photographer; he has perfect models to work with in Jess and Fletcher. They look so happy and deeply in love. Theirs is a true romance story with the happy-ever-after that every woman deserves.
“And here you are left holding the baby.” My skin prickles as he whispers the words close to my ear.
“What have you done with my mum?” I ask without turning to face him.
“She’s chatting to Lee’s parents. I think she likes me.”
“I’m sure Logan will soon make her change her opinion of you.”
“He can try. But it’s not Logan’s or even your mum’s opinion I’m interested in at the moment.”
I close my eyes briefly, and when I reopen them, he’s standing before me with that cocky grin on his face. “I believe you have my company all day,” he says.
“Do I?”
“Yes. My job is to ensure you are entertained.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s a job Fletcher or Logan gave you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Logan interrupts this cosy chat between us.”
“Logan is too busy. I could get away with murder and he wouldn’t notice.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” I say, looking in my brother’s direction, and I smile seeing I’m right. Logan is staring at us, and I swear it won’t be Jackson trying to get away with murder. Jackson waves to him, and if I wasn’t holding Chloe, I’d slap him for that. Today of all days, no one needs Jackson winding up Logan. The look on my brother’s face is actually quite funny. I watch as Lee runs her fingers over his cheek in an attempt to regain his attention, and when she does, she smiles at me. Oh, she knows. My eyes dart around the area and I bet the only people who don’t know I’ve slept with Jackson are all the kids, and I suppose, my mum. Well, at least I hope she doesn’t know. I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep that to myself.
“At least promise me a dance later.”
“A dance? Of course Sam will dance with you.” I cringe, and with a slight shake of my head, I force a smile as my mother interrupts our chat. “Won’t you, Samantha?”
“We’ll see. I won’t be staying all night.”
“Sweetheart, if Chloe is going home with Lee’s mum, there’s no reason for you and I to leave early. As you said earlier, we can party together.”
“Do you hear that, Sam? There’s no reason for you to leave early,” Jackson says with a smirk and my mother is smiling, thankfully oblivious to anything between us. But right now, I could happily strangle her because she’s put me on the spot.
“Yes, I hear that,” I say on a sigh.
“Sweetheart, do you want me to take Chloe?”
“No, she’s settled. I’m going to take her to Lee. She might want some family pictures from the photographer,” I say, wanting to make an exit from both my mum and Jackson. Lee’s mum might have a fight on her hands today over this little one because as bad as this sounds, I might take her home to ensure I’m safe. Safe away from Jackson.
It’s been such a perfect day for the happy couple. Love and laughter in abundance. Even Jackson has been the perfect gentleman. I already know he’s wormed his way into my mother’s affections as he’s sat at our table and told football stories. Jackson Taylor has been charming all day.
“I told you it was my job to keep you entertained,” he whispers, leaning in so close I can feel the warmth against my neck. Goosebumps spread quickly. “You still owe me a dance, Miss Walker.”
I glance around this incredible room and everyone is happily enjoying themselves; even my mum is up dancing with Fletcher. “Just one dance?”
“You’ll want more than a dance by the end of the night.”
I shake my head, grab my wine glass, and finish the contents before pushing my chair back and standing. I hold out my hand to him, which he takes, and smiling, he leads me onto the dancefloor just as the song changes. It’s slower.
Has he planned this? Of course he has. My eyes drift around the dance floor as he takes me in his arms and we move to a song the band is playing.
My mum waves and smiles, giving her approval of my dancing partner, although I do catch Fletcher shaking his head. Logan is on the dancefloor with Lee in his arms, and I know she won’t allow him to do anything stupid.
“You can relax. He’s already seen me with you,” Jackson says quietly, nipping his teeth against my neck.
“Maybe I would if you weren’t trying to piss my brother off,” I say, avoiding looking at him.
“I manage to do that most days without even trying.”
“That I can understand,” I tease, just as he spins me softly before taking me back in his arms, only this time tighter, as though he doesn’t want to let me go. I can’t read too much into this.
We dance in silence, and I find myself leaning into the warmth of his body as one song segues into another, enjoying the feel of my body against his. Feeling safe in his arms, I close my eyes and there’s no one else on the dancefloor but us. Alone together. My body sways with his in time to the song. All sense of time slips away.
“Can I?” I open my eyes, hoping it’s not my brother’s voice I’ve just heard.
“Of course.” Jackson lets me go and I turn to face Logan. He wraps his arm around my waist and links my hand with his.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you with him when I know what he’s like? He’s one of my closest friends, but the anger I feel toward him is unhealthy.”
“Well, don’t be angry with him. Jackson hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Yet! He will.”
“Probably because he’s a guy and you all make mistakes.”
“Hey, enough.”
“Logan it’s true. Please. I don’t interfere in your life, so you shouldn’t interfere in mine. Just concentrate on Lee and getting her down the aisle next.”
“I worry about you.”
“Please don’t. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a big girl now and I’m more than capable of sorting out my own life when mistakes happen.”
We dance until the song ends and he kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Sam, and I’ll promise to try not to interfere, but it’s hard knowing that some arsehole has already hurt you. I swear to God though, if Jackson hurts you, I’ll be inside sharing a cell with Kate’s brother.”
I shake my head at him. Yes, he means well, but I’m not even dating Jackson. So, for me, all this is somewhat premature.
“Okay, now the big brother talk is over, can you go and rescue Fletcher from Mum?” We both look over at her, and she’s still with Fletcher. He honestly looks happy, but I’m sure he’d much prefer to have his wife in his arms.
“Okay, sis. Your point has well and truly been made.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Logan walks over to Mum, and I smile, watching the two of them as they start to dance. I make my way back over to our table because dancing is thirsty work. Jackson is sitting by himself and I sit down right next to him.
“A drink?” he asks.
“Why not?” He pours me another wine and opens a bottle of beer for himself. “Cheers,” I say.
“And what are we toasting?” he asks.
“I’m not sure yet
.”
His smile is warm and sincere, yet arrogant and full of mischief.
Chapter Eleven
What the hell am I doing here? This wasn’t in my plan, or was it?
I wish I could say that alcohol is the reason I’m here, but it’s not. Yes, I may be a little tipsy, but I’m here because I want to be. We’ve both had so much to drink, yet we have our wits about us, which surprises me seeing as he talked me into doing a few shots at the bar before we were meant to part company.
See, that went well.
I’m here in this hotel room because Jackson wants me, and this time plans to keep me with him until the morning, even if that means chaining me to the bed. His words.
Goosebumps cover my skin. Butterflies fill my stomach as I take in the vast space and enormous four-poster bed that he could chain me to if he wanted, but he won’t need chains to keep me here with him. Although, I don’t fancy bumping into my brother at breakfast in the morning wearing these clothes.
The room door bangs closed, and I jump a little, losing my footing.
“Whoa! I’ve got you.” He wraps his arms around my waist, his front to my back. His lips press lightly against my neck in the softest of kisses. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head to the side, my body feeling weightless pressed against his. Something in this moment tells me this is going to be a very fun-filled night.
I spin around in his arms, needing to see him. Jackson stares at me, his eyes locked with mine, desire burning. He pulls me closer to him, his body pressing against mine, his erection evident beneath the kilt. I get no warning as he roughly grabs the nape of my neck and his lips clash against mine in a frenzy. Tongues tangled with each other, teeth nipping at the other’s lips. Desperation fills my soul.
Desperate to feel the warmth of his naked skin against mine. The only thought in my head is that the two of us need to be naked now.
He smirks as I drag my mouth from his and draw in a deep breath of air. I take him in. He removed his jacket downstairs, and the buttons on his waistcoat are already loosened and the tartan tie is undone. My eyes are focused on the buttons of the not-so-crisp-white shirt, and I’m wondering how long it will take me to undo them.
I slide my hands up his shirt, pulling the tie and allowing it to fall to the floor. Next, he tugs free from the waistcoat, discarding it.
“Turn around,” he demands, and I comply. He kisses the nape of my neck before I hear the zipper of my dress and feel the cool air on my skin. The straps of the silk dress glide slowly down my arms before it drops to the floor. “Step.” Again, I do as he says, although I do turn around.
“Perfect.”
He’s entitled to his opinion. To me, I’m far from perfect. He unbuttons the shirt, tossing it aside, and I get a glimpse of his body and that tattoo I love. There’s something totally mesmerising about the roses on his biceps, and I know I’ll ask if there is a meaning behind it someday.
His eyes darken. There’s something about a shirtless Scotsman in a kilt. Dear Lord, he looks fucking heavenly. The corners of my mouth tug into a grin as my mind wanders and the question lingers on the tip of my tongue; is he a true Scotsman?
“Oh, my sweetest, Sam, I’d love to know what you’re thinking,” he murmurs, taking a step toward me before scooping me up into his arms. I squeal as he strides toward the four-poster bed. “Now, this has many possibilities for enjoyment,” he says, tossing me effortlessly onto the bed.
I start to inch my body up the bed, but he stops me, pulling me down so I’m balanced at the bottom edge. He kneels before me and I almost sigh with disappointment that I’m not yet seeing what’s under his kilt.
“Bloody hell, Jackson,” I say as he tears my knickers from my body. Another pair. He’s a fucking animal.
He raises his eyebrows and shrugs before spreading my legs and burying his face between them. I close my eyes and throw my head back at the first delicate touch of his tongue. I push my hands behind me, holding my body upright as he continues to lick and tease me with his fingers.
“Don’t stop,” I moan as soon as he hits that fucking sweet spot that sets my nerve endings on fire.
He continues licking and sucking, touching and rubbing with just the right amount of friction that’s bound to send me crashing sooner rather than later. But, God, do I wish it were later. The sensation starts to rise. I open my eyes to see he’s lifted his head, eyes on me. His mouth is still buried between my legs, licking and sucking until I’m calling out his name as I ride out my climax.
The room is spinning.
My desire is strong.
My body is weak as I fall back until I’m lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my breathing ragged and wondering about his threat to chain me to the bed to keep me here. He doesn’t have to do that. I’m staying until the morning.
“Let’s get you into a more comfortable position.” He’s crawling up the bed naked and taking me with him. How did I not notice him removing his kilt? “Lift.” I lift my head and he places one of the pillows beneath me. “What will I do with you?” he asks, stroking my face, his fingertips tracing lightly over my lips.
“Whatever you want. You have me all night.”
His mouth crashes against mine, and all I can do is moan as he takes control of our kiss. With his hands cradling my head, the kiss is soft yet demanding. He’s not holding back, and already I’m feeling breathless.
Jackson pulls his lips from mine, his eyes clouded and on me. “All night, you say. Now this has possibilities, lots of them. But first…”
He leans over and grabs the sporran from the floor and takes a condom from it. I watch as he opens the wrapper and rolls it on, and now I’m thinking back to last week in Vegas… we didn’t use a condom then. “Miss Walker, I think your attention should be on me,” he says, his tone playful.
“You’re very demanding, Mr Taylor. I bet you’re like this with all the girls,” I tease, keeping my eyes on his.
“Only you.” He continues to stare at me, and for some strange reason, I believe his words. Or at least I want to believe he’s not like this with all the girls. “And I plan to worship you all night long.”
“Do you think you’re up for that, player?”
“Do you doubt my ability? I’ll just have to prove what I’m capable of.” I bite my bottom lip, watching the corners of his mouth tug into an arrogant grin. One that tells me we’re going to have fun finding out just how much stamina we have. Jackson raises his eyebrows in a silent question. My eyes drop from his face and roam down his body. Every damn inch of him is toned to perfection. My gaze stops on his condom-covered erection. I lift my eyes back to his and nod slowly.
His fingers slide down my breasts and I moan as he kneads and tugs my nipple through the fabric of my bra. I groan when his fingers move and I’m missing the warm sensations that fluttered through my veins.
I gasp when I see his hand has gone. His hand is wrapped around his erection, holding it in place in line with my entrance.
His eyes hold mine as he slowly enters me, stretching and filling me, and dear God, I’m not sure I want him to move. Not yet. Every nerve ending in my body is buzzing. He pulls out and pushes in deeper. My muscles clench around him, and I wait, watching his eyes darken as I stare into them. But what’s more fascinating is that he’s holding back, but how long before his restraint fails? I push my hips toward him, feeling every thick inch of him buried deep inside me.
I’m hypnotised by the dark pools of desire swimming in his eyes as he again pulls out and pushes back inside me farther than before. Slow. My thoughts are crazy. I’m trying not to make comparisons from last week to tonight, but it’s so damn hard not to. Last week we were both angry, so much frustration and desire burning between us, leading to an explosion.
But this… this is different. Slower. Planned. Controlled on his side, maybe. Right now, my control is slipping. I want him and need him badly. I need the frantic clawing, pushing and pulling. I want him pounding into me, sending me toward th
at delightful spiral that results in a bitter-sweet smile and my body tucked into his as he holds onto me tightly, refusing to let me go.
That’s what I want.
But what does Jackson Taylor want?
That’s a very good question, and one I’m not sure I’ll get the answer to. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is more than just sex.
He grabs my thighs, pushing them back toward me. Slowly, he pulls out, but not fully, and I’m just about the scream at him to get a move on when he thrusts back into me, his hands gripping onto the flesh of my thighs. Each thrust in and the deliberate slow withdrawal is sending me to that sweet place I want to be.
My breathing is struggling to keep up with the pace. I can feel my pulse hammering as we chase the finishing line. I groan loudly as his fingers dig deeper into my flesh. My muscles clench tightly around him, and a warm spark ignites within.
With his eyes on mine, he’s watching and waiting. His shoulders tense. I cry out, calling his name as an explosion of liquid heat bursts through my body and my orgasm takes control. I don’t think I can take any more. Jackson continues thrusting and grinds his hips toward me. A loud groan falls from his lips and his head drops, meeting mine.
I close my eyes as he drops my thighs back down on the bed. He shifts after a few moments, and I miss the connection of having him inside me. He wraps his arm around me and we lay silent and still. No words are spoken, but this is not uncomfortable.
Warm fingers unfasten my bra and trail lazily across my breasts. Holy crap! He’ll be the death of me. He moves again, this time kissing and sucking his way towards my boob before taking the nipple in his mouth.
I moan, writhing beneath him again.
“I did say you were mine all night.”
I open my eyes to be met with his cocky grin. “You did, player.”
Let’s hope I can keep up with him all night.
Chapter Twelve
Scottish Player: A Hero Club Novel Page 7
