Insatiable in a Kilt

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Insatiable in a Kilt Page 8

by Anna Durand


  "No kissing," she repeated.

  "You can believe that's what you want if it makes you feel safer."

  She squinted at me again with her lips puckered, though their corners ticked upward just enough to prove to me she was not annoyed. No matter how much she denied it, she liked having me around for more than sex. Why else would she loiter in my office all morning? Later, maybe I would bring that fact to her attention. For the moment, I was happy to have her on my lap.

  Keely twisted around to look at the desktop.

  I knew she was looking at the distribution contract. It lay right there, the sole document on my desk.

  She tapped a fingertip on the paper, and her gaze rolled to me. "You're holding me hostage with this contract."

  "Am I?" Of course I was, but I loved winding her up.

  "Yes, you are." She bent her head close to mine, so close I tasted her breaths. "I can't go home without a signed contract. Vic would be devastated. That means I'm your hostage until you sign the damn thing."

  I skated a hand up her back. "You've got it backward, leannan. I am your slave."

  "Hah."

  "You do realize you're close enough to kiss."

  She pulled away and crossed her arms over her breasts. "Are you afraid I'll run away if you sign?"

  "No, you like me too much to do that." I moved my hands from her back to her front, stroking the undersides of her breasts with my thumbs. "And you love the way I make you feel."

  "There you go again, being arrogant."

  I skated my fingers up to caress her breasts everywhere except her stiff little nipples. "I like you too, Keely."

  "And yet you refuse to sign. You obviously think I'll take off once we seal the deal."

  "We've already sealed one deal. What's another?" I reached around her body to grab my pen and scrawl my signature on the contract. Legally, the contract would need to be witnessed, but I could get Tamsen to do that later. Tossing the pen aside, I hugged Keely closer. "There. You're free."

  She slapped a hand over my mouth, apparently thinking I'd meant to kiss her.

  I had, naturally. Foiled again, I settled for kissing her fingers.

  She withdrew her hand. "About lunch…"

  "You go on. I'm far too busy."

  She nibbled on her lower lip in a way that made me want to throw her down on the desk and ravish her like a wild animal.

  "I'll go get our lunch," she said, "and bring it back here."

  I couldn't help smiling, though it may have come off as a smirk. She wanted to have lunch with me. Keely O'Shea, the all-business-and-no-play woman, wanted to stay with me even after I'd signed the contract. She must've realized I was plotting various ways to steal a kiss.

  Keely hopped off my lap.

  I slapped her bottom.

  She mouthed "behave" and marched off to get our lunch, retrieving her shoes along the way.

  Forty-one minutes later, I had Keely on my lap and the remains of our lunch littered the desktop. She had eaten her sandwich while balanced on my thighs. I had eaten mine while gazing at her lovely breasts and her slender throat. Every time she took a bite of her food, I became fixated on her lips.

  "Behave, Evan," she said, tapping my lips with one dainty finger. "I can tell what you're thinking."

  "I want to kiss you."

  "And I said behave."

  "You know how I feel about you disciplining me." I tugged her closer until our noses almost touched. "Say it again in your schoolteacher voice."

  "Thought you had urgent stuff to do on your computer."

  Yes, I did have urgent "stuff" to do. As much as I would've preferred to play with Keely, I needed to get back to work. One hour and sixteen minutes until my deadline.

  The picture of my mother flashed in my mind. Those thugs had tracked her down simply to take a snapshot and prove to me they could get to the people I loved anytime they wanted. As if I needed a reminder after the one and only time I'd ignored them.

  "You've gone serious again," Keely said. "Like you did this morning. Are you sure you're okay?"

  "I'm certain." That she cared if I was all right should've lifted my mood, but I couldn't shake my unease. "Go back to your reading."

  "Need a break from that." She picked up the remains of our lunch. "Think I'll ask Tamsen to show me those catalogs after all."

  She climbed off my lap, the lunch remnants in her hands, and dumped the lot into the bin beside my desk. Gracing me with a subdued smile, she ambled out of my office.

  Fifteen minutes later, I'd completed my task and texted the file to the anonymous individuals who held me captive. Though I had released Keely from the one thing tying her to me, my captors showed no signs of intending to release me.

  Once I'd sent the file, I stared at the door without seeing it. Keely wanted to control our relationship. I already had a master, and I didn't intend to let her pull my strings too. Not that she wanted to control me. She was afraid to care for me. I could see that plainly, and though I suspected her former lovers had something to do with it, she wouldn't tell me more until I convinced her what we had was more than casual. How could I do that while I let her write all the rules? Yesterday, I'd taken charge and she had liked it. I enjoyed her domineering side, but maybe it was time for another reminder that I was a man, not her sex toy.

  I shoved my chair back and stalked toward the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Keely

  "This is our master catalog," Tamsen said, turning the three-inch-thick book toward me where I half sat on the corner of her desk. "It includes every device and bit of software we produce. We also have the surveillance catalog, the security catalog, the software catalog, and the catalog of services we offer in addition to the devices and software."

  "Services?" I asked. "I thought Evan made devices only."

  "In the beginning, he made only the devices and the software to run them." She pushed the catalog closer to me, then brought out another, slimmer one. "Since then, we've added services such as on-call technical assistance and twenty-four-seven monitoring. If a client's alarm goes off, our people are alerted and call the client immediately. We have call centers in sixteen cities throughout the UK, serving our clients in seventeen countries around the world. Our clients include government agencies, corporations, and museums, including the museum owned by Evan's cousin Rory."

  "Wow, that's impressive." My thoughts spiraled back around to Evan, the way he'd deftly created the missing components for a tiny listening device and finally to his urgent work this morning. I asked Tamsen, "Guess you're in on the big secret this morning. You are Evan's right-hand woman."

  "Big secret?"

  "The urgent work he had to finish today."

  Tamsen opened her mouth to speak but seemed unable to drum up any words for several seconds. At last, she regained her professional composure. "I wasn't aware Evan had an urgent project this morning."

  "He probably forgot to tell you." Our encounter last night must have distracted him as much as it had me. "Anyway, it's the reason I'm hanging around here pestering you. We had to delay our sightseeing until later so he could finish his work."

  Tamsen pursed her lips and appraised me. "Evan does not take days off, not even for the weekend except to visit his family. He definitely does not take a holiday for a woman." She turned her attention to stacking the catalogs on her desk. "He must like you very much."

  "I think he's just being a gracious host."

  "Evan MacTaggart does not take time off. This is unprecedented."

  A throat clearing made us both look at the office doorway.

  Evan's large body filled the open doorway. He wore a determined expression, his focus squarely on me. "If the pair of you are done debating my recreation habits, you and I have something more important to discuss."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "Something I need to show you."

  He strode up to me and threw me over his shou
lder with my head hanging down his backside. One of his arms was locked over my thighs, securing me in place. His free hand settled on my rump. He carted me into his office, kicked the door shut, and stomped straight to his desk where he set me down on my feet.

  "You've got some nerve," I said. "Have you regressed to caveman behavior?"

  "Aye." He undid his tie and yanked it off. "You need a reminder that I'm not your lapdog."

  "My what?"

  He seized my wrists, holding them behind my back, and bound them with his tie.

  An unreasonable thrill electrified me, from my skin down to the depths of my sex, and my tummy fluttered. I should not like this. He was being an arrogant caveman. And what did he mean about being my lapdog? I should ram my knee straight up into his groin. Why didn't I?

  Oh, I knew the answer. I wanted to find out what he was up to, what he might do to me next. The memory of yesterday, when he'd commanded me to lift my skirt, replayed in my mind. My body reacted like he'd shoved his head between my legs again, heating and melting and aching for whatever he planned to do.

  He backed me up to the desk, his body firm and warm against me, and slanted his head down until our mouths hovered millimeters apart. "No more of this nonsense about parameters and no kissing. I'm meaning to claim you for mine, starting with your mouth. But only after you ask me to kiss you."

  "Why would I do that?"

  The light glinted off his glasses when he canted his head. "Because you want me to kiss you as badly as I want to do it."

  He latched an arm around my body, his hand spread over my lower back. The other hand dived into my hair, cradling the back of my head and tipping it at the perfect angle for the kiss he believed I wanted.

  My lips tingled as if confirming his claim. "You agreed to my parameters."

  "As I pointed out earlier, I never agreed to no kissing."

  Right, he hadn't explicitly agreed. That didn't matter. "I told you what I want."

  "No, you told me what you think you need because you're afraid of getting close to me." He pressed forward a little more, hugging me to his hard body. "Ask me to kiss you."

  "Like hell I will."

  He rocked his hips into me, his entire body rubbing on mine, chafing my nipples against the fabric of my bra. The sensation of his muscles flexing against every part of me made more than my lips tingle.

  What was the point in arguing? We both wanted the same thing.

  I pulled in an uneven breath. "Please kiss me."

  He covered my mouth with his, plowing his tongue between my lips to force me to open and yield control to him. I surrendered, sagging into him, letting out a small, involuntary moan. The kiss grew wild and demanding as he whipped his tongue around mine, groaning and crushing me to his body. With my wrists bound and his arm behind me, I couldn't have struggled to get free even if I'd wanted to. But I didn't want to. His hand held my head in position—to stop me from turning away, I assumed—but he needn't have bothered. I'd burned for him to kiss me all day, trapped by my silly demand that he never kiss me again. I answered the swipes of his tongue with greedy strokes of my own, devouring the flavor of him and not even caring that I tasted the sandwich he'd eaten for lunch too.

  My body melted into him. Everything inside me craved him. Craved more. Craved everything.

  He ripped his mouth away from mine, undid the tie around my wrists, and took one step away from me.

  Robbed of breath by our kiss, I slumped until my butt landed on the desk.

  He looped the tie around his neck and tucked it under his shirt collar as if he were about to do it up again.

  "Was that it?" I asked.

  He shrugged one shoulder. "What else did you want?"

  I wanted him. On top of me. Inside me. Driving me past the limits of reason and not stopping until I came apart in his arms. Unwilling to voice my need, I straightened my clothes and pushed away from the desk.

  Evan pecked a kiss on my forehead. "I've finished my work. We still have time for a bit of sightseeing today."

  Sightseeing? Was he insane? He'd gotten me all worked up, and now he expected me to admire the scenery. I hadn't even caught my breath yet.

  He laid a hand on my cheek. "Take a moment, lass. When you're steady again, we'll be away."

  My voice still wouldn't work, so I tried to glare at him. My heavy breathing and flushed skin probably rendered the expression ineffectual.

  He bent over the desk to click the button under its opposite edge.

  The wet bar emerged from the wall.

  I blinked at the thing. "What's that for?"

  He sauntered to the bar, poured an inch of amber liquid into a glass, and brought it to me. As he offered me the glass, he said, "A bit of Ben Nevis ought to revive you."

  "Is that whiskey?"

  "Aye. That's spelled with no E, by the way. I've learned Americans spell it differently."

  "Didn't realize that." I accepted the glass. "I'm more of a rum girl, but I'll give this a try."

  I took a sip. The rich, smoky flavor of the whisky glided over my tongue and slid down my throat. I noted hints of nut and chocolate chased with a flash of fruitiness. "Mmm, that is delicious."

  "Never cared much for whisky until my cousin Rory introduced me to Ben Nevis. It's made in Fort William, a town southwest of here."

  I sipped the whisky and moaned. "God, this is good."

  He wrapped his hand around mine and raised the glass to his lips, tipping it so he could take a sip. His hand lingered around mine as he ran his tongue over his lips. "You taste better."

  "Bet you taste better than whisky too." I shot a meaningful glance at his groin and the large lump inside his pants. "Love to find out for sure."

  "Later. I promised to show you the sights today."

  "Okay, sightseeing it is." I wriggled my hand free of his and downed the rest of the whisky in one gulp, shuddering as its full effect hit me. "Whew, that's potent. Thanks for the booze boost."

  "My pleasure." He set the glass on the desk and clasped my hand. "Are we away now?"

  "Let's hit the road."

  He led me away, or maybe astray, but I didn't care which anymore.

  Damn, that whisky was good.

  Chapter Eleven

  Keely

  Sightseeing with Evan MacTaggart turned into quite an experience and taught me more about the secretive billionaire. We rode in his Porsche SUV, a sleek blue-gray vehicle that I was sure cost more than the going rate for a college education. I considered asking him how much the vehicle cost but decided my head would fly off my body if I heard the answer.

  Evan's knowledge of Inverness, its history and its current events, impressed me and I let him take me wherever he wanted to go. We visited Inverness Castle on the banks of the River Ness, and Evan explained some of the history of the nineteenth-century castle. When I'd asked if he studied history in college, he'd laughed softly.

  "No," he said, "but my cousins Iain and Catriona are both archaeologists. My other cousin Rory and his wife own a castle they turned into a museum, and my cousin Jamie and her husband run it. Hard to avoid learning about history with them in the family."

  "You've mentioned five cousins so far, including your reference to Aidan yesterday. How many cousins do you have?"

  He gave me a teasing sidelong look. "Isn't that violating your parameters?"

  "Maybe, but I'm curious. I have five cousins, but I never see them. They're basically strangers to me."

  "I have too many cousins to count." He slipped an arm around my waist while we both gazed out at the view from atop the castle tower, where the river stretched out ahead of us with the city on both sides. "I used to be an outsider in the family, but last year Iain and his wife decided to bring me into the fold. According to them, I'm a recluse."

  "Are you?"

  He tipped his head side to side, screwing up his mouth. "Yes, I have been."

  "But you're not anymore."


  "I'm recovering, thanks to my meddling cousins."

  "Meddling? That doesn't sound very nice."

  "You have to know the MacTaggarts to understand." His smile was a touch melancholy. "Meddling is a family pastime, but it's done out of love. Iain keeps pestering me to go to family events. He's threatened to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner this year, which has become a tradition since several of my cousins married Americans."

  "MacTaggarts like the Yanks, eh?"

  Evan gave me a squeeze and turned his head to smirk at me. "I'm familiar with the appeal of a sexy American."

  A knot hardened in my stomach. This was getting too personal. Why had I asked about his cousins even after he reminded me of my own parameters? I didn't need to know him, and he didn't need to know me. The way he'd made love to me last night had sent me into a near panic, though this morning I'd felt better than I had in a long time. What did that mean?

  Nothing. It meant nothing.

  If I'd expected him to stop talking about family, I should have known better. He might not want to discuss his mother, but he had no qualms about asking me about my kin.

  "Are you an only child?" he asked.

  "No, I have two brothers." Why didn't I tell him to mind his own business? Maybe it was the earnest look on his face that kept me from putting him off this line of inquiry.

  "Are your brothers younger or older?"

  "Two years younger. Before you ask any more nosy questions, Ryan and Grady are twins, they're both married, and they both have children."

  His next question turned the knot in my gut into a cold ball of ice.

  "Do you have children?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  I pulled out of his hold. "Awfully nosy, aren't you? Two can play that game. What secret project were you working on today?"

  He said nothing, his face a mask that concealed more than I cared to think about.

  "Tamsen knows nothing about it," I said. "So, what are you hiding? Your private porn collection? An app that steals money from every bank account in the world? Or maybe you were running a background check on me."

 

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