Kilted Lover (4 page)

None
. He was going to get even with wise-ass Paul one day.

Scott crammed himself into the bucket seat of the 'Vette and moved his sporran aside. Leslie scrunched up and slid onto his lap.

He closed the door, and instantly her sexy-woman scent attacked him. Natural and earthy with a hint of floral perfume mixed in, her fragrance wafted into his head and intoxicated him. His blood drained to his southern hemisphere.
Here we go.
His cock wasn’t the least bit shy about admitting it wanted her. Scott clenched his teeth and tried not to touch her with his hands. Bad enough he was touching her with everything else.

“Okay, all set?” Paul cranked the engine.

“Yep.”
And be quick about it, will you?

Scott tried to think of something unappealing, anything but Leslie’s slight weight on him.

Paul carried on a litany about the sights of Charleston and Mount Pleasant. Fun places to visit, great places to eat. All Scott could focus on was Leslie and the feel of her firm derriere on his lap. He wanted to bury his nose in her hair and draw her in.

She laughed at something Paul said, her small, tight body shaking against him.
Oh, no, bad. Very bad.
Arousal curled through him, as hot, rich and sweet as melted chocolate. He wanted to grind himself against her round, bare ass, pull her back tight against his chest, and slide up into her wet pussy. His hands itched to touch her.

Fantastic. He had a full-blown erection. If she slid back a half inch she’d feel what she’d done to him.

“Can you turn on the air?” Scott said. “It’s hot as hell in here.”

“The air is on,” Paul said.

***

Leslie wasn’t too sure about Paul and Scott’s boat plan. Did she really want to be sequestered on some small yacht with this hot hunk? If she wasn’t already in a relationship, maybe.

In the trunk were two bags of food and a cooler of bottled water and drinks. They weren’t staying a week, were they?

And what the heck had possessed her amulet? It was glowing again and felt warmer than usual.

She hoped the cops would catch the assailants tomorrow. Scott had given them a thorough description. Despite the danger she was in, she couldn’t keep her thoughts off Scott. After all, she was sitting on him.

Heat radiated off him as if he were a furnace. Leslie squirmed, trying to get comfortable on his hard-muscled thighs. No cushion there.

He grunted.

“Oh, sorry.” She glanced back.

“No problem,” he murmured in a rough voice. His jaw clenched hard. When she faced forward again, he pressed his hands on either side of her hips and shifted her where he wanted her. Awareness sighed through her. His hands—his large, hot hands gripping her hips—her naked hips. He would pull her back toward him and his…. She almost moaned when her fantasies turned so erotic that warm moisture drenched her panties. But she couldn’t stop. The fantasy continued with him sliding his cock inside her. She would lie back against his chest and while he breathed against her ear, he would thrust up into her over and over, until she could do nothing but gasp and cry out in orgasm. Her eyes popped open and she gripped the dash, her breathing uneven. She hadn’t had an orgasm in months.

Something big and firm poked her butt. Oh, goodness, was that…? No, he couldn’t have a hard-on. Could he?

Um, yes, I believe he does.
Wanting to purr, she fought the urge to arch her back and rub against him.

Think of Fletcher! Fletcher, okay, he has dark hair. What color are his eyes? Green? No!

All she saw, felt and smelled was Scott. Damn the big delicious brute.

The marina came into view at the farthest reach of the headlights. “Thank God,” she whispered.

Once she and Scott extracted themselves from the car, the three of them carried the bags of food onto the yacht. Paul opened the hatch and turned on the lights. They descended the tight steps into the galley. Scott’s head almost touched the ceiling and his broad shoulders dwarfed the space. She caught a glimpse of tasteful cherry cabinets and granite countertops. Tapestry benches surrounded a tiny cherry table for dining.

“Well, kids, I’m outta here,” Paul said a minute later. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” He snickered and made for the steps. “Which pretty much gives you
carte blanche.
”

Scott glared at his back.

“Thanks for your help, Paul,” she said.

“You bet. See you tomorrow.”

The hatch closed after his exit, and silence filled the galley.

Scott stood, fists on kilted hips, looking exotic and intense. “Paul can be a jackass sometimes.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He seems nice to me.”

“That’s what all the women think.”

“A real ladies man, huh?”

“Major. I don’t know how he keeps them all straight.”

“As if you’re not.” She smirked, unable to resist teasing him just once.

He snorted and lifted a brow. “Not exactly.”

“Why not? Don’t you like women?”

“Hell, yes, I like women.” He slanted her a dark look, halfway between a glare and a want-me-to-show-you?

Yes, please.

Kilted Lover: Chapter 3

“Sorry, I was only teasing,” Leslie snickered. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Scott. Her sizzling attraction to him had fried her brain. Of course, she knew he liked women. If she hadn’t been sure before, the ride on his lap and his rock-hard erection poking at her butt had confirmed it. Her mind was blown by the very idea of man as hot, gorgeous and muscular as him, aroused by her. He probably had a big, beautiful cock. As if she might catch a glimpse, her gaze dropped, but all she saw was the black leather sporran. She couldn’t decide if she loved or hated that kilt accessory—it drew attention to his genitals, but also hid any evidence of his erection. Did he still have a hard-on?

I have to stop!

Hardly able to think beyond the erotic images in her mind, she cleared her throat and floundered for something to say. “Um—so, can I help you put away the food?”

“Yeah.” He turned to the bags. “This goes up there.” He handed her a bag of pretzels and pointed to a wall cabinet.

She squeezed by him in the cramped space, her hard nipples grazing his back. Tingles raced through her body. She held back a moan. The urge to plaster herself to him and wrap her arms around him almost overwhelmed her. But she couldn’t. His dark gaze captured hers for an explosive second. She had to break eye contact and move away from him to breathe normally again.

Okay, Les, you have to stop this, dammit! You have a boyfriend.

But being near Fletcher in his kitchen had never turned her on.

“That’s for you.” Scott placed a new toothbrush on the counter.

“Paul gave me a toothbrush?”

“He buys them by the case.”

“For all his girlfriends. Makes sense.”
And this must be his love boat
. “How long are we staying here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one night. Tomorrow, I’m going to look for the two men who shot at us.”

“Good. I’ll help you.”

“No. It’s too dangerous,” he said in that bossy, firm tone.

“Then you can’t go, either.” She folded her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t sit here like a weak female while he-man went out and solved her problems.

“Excuse me, but who rescued whom?” he asked.

“You’ll have a better chance catching them if I’m there. It’s my amulet they want.”

Scott frowned down into the bag he held, quickly folded it, and crammed it into a cabinet door. “We’ll talk about it later.” He crossed his arms over his chest, appearing uncomfortable but also sexy with those flexing biceps.

She wondered at his abruptness and flushed face. He wouldn’t even meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I’m putting you through so much trouble. I’m sure you’d rather be someplace else.”

“No. I was planning to stay here tonight anyway. Are you hungry?”

She blinked at his rapid-fire words. “Actually, I am.”

He opened the fridge. “What would you like? How about some grilled shrimp and steak kabobs?”

“Sounds good.”

She’d always loved watching a man in the kitchen, doing domestic things. But watching one of Scott’s size and athletic build, while he wore a kilt, was sheer fun. His broad shoulders fascinated her.

“We’re safe here, right?” she asked, washing the potatoes he’d set out.

“Sure. I don’t know how they’d know we were here.”

Thirty minutes later they sat above deck while Scott grilled. She wanted to tie him to a bed and pretend he was a giant chocolate éclair, yet she was shocked at how little she knew about him. She’d just learned he was a log home contractor in the mountains of North Carolina.

“Mmm, that smells good!” she said, eyeing the food and then him. What would it be like if he fed her? “I’m starving now.”
Starving for more than food, actually.

“I think it’s done.” He placed a kabob on her plate. “Try that.”

She blew on it, and then took a bite of steak, moaning while she chewed. A yummy man who could make yummy food. What could be better?

He frowned, watching her with a heated expression.

“It’s delicious.” But not as delicious as he would be.

They sat above deck in the cooler night air while they ate. She was enjoying their conversation with its slight flirtatious undertone a bit too much and felt a pang of guilt. But simply talking to another man wasn’t cheating. She had nothing to feel guilty about, except for an overactive interest in him and an intense attraction which she had no control over.

Even the way he chewed and swallowed was sexy, and the flexing muscles of his jaw and throat. Kissing him on those spots would be so hot.

A moan reached her ears.

“What was that?” she whispered, glancing around through the night at the other boats, the dock and harbor. The moan sounded again, followed by a gasping cry.

Scott shrugged, stood and peered around the side of the yacht toward the one docked next door. The moaning grew louder.

He turned. “Our neighbors,” he whispered.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” a woman cried out.

Leslie’s face burned
. Wow, I can’t believe this.
“I think I’ll go below.” She carried her plate down to the galley and placed it on the counter. But even here, the woman’s cries were loud. The window was open. She moved toward it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. Those two were actually out on the bow having sex in plain view. The man had her pinned down, her legs around his waist and his pants around his ankles. No shirt. His white butt bobbed up and down.

Truthfully, she had never seen anyone having sex in public. But, above deck, what had mortified her most was Scott’s close proximity. And those erotic sounds made her realize how intensely he tempted her.

What would it be like to make love with wild abandon, not caring who watched, beneath the stars and full moon on the bow of a boat?

A vision popped into her head of Scott naked, his muscular body in action between her spread thighs, his hips thrusting. His cock, long and granite hard, would feel fantastic sliding up inside her. Arousal burned through her and dampened her panties. Being pinned down by a man that big and strong while he took her would be a heady experience. Or maybe she would be on top, riding him. She’d never indulged in that position before. She imagined the dark, sexy look in his eyes while he watched her giving him pleasure.

Something thumped, startling her, and she opened her eyes, only now realizing she’d closed them. The room was dark.

“They’re exhibitionists,” Scott whispered close behind her.

She jerked around, speechless. A sexual flame still licked at her overheated body. Those fantasies were too vivid.

“I think so,” she finally said. And though she couldn’t see Scott in the darkness, she breathed in his appealing male scent. It fed her arousal, magnified it. If he grabbed her right now and pulled her to him, she’d devour him. Lick, bite, sink her teeth into those muscles.

The woman next door screamed with what had to be an orgasm. “Oh, my God! Yes! Deeper!”

Deeper?
Leslie was sure Scott would be able to go really deep.
Argh! I have to stop!

“Why me?” Leslie whispered.

“What?”

“This is insane.” She wasn’t sure whether she meant the exhibitionism or her arousal. Everything was insane.

Scott chuckled, deep but soft, the sound beyond sexy and inviting. “They did it last night, too.”

“Perverts.”

He snorted and she instantly knew what he was thinking, that maybe they were the perverts instead, since they were watching and listening.

She covered her face, even though it was dark and no one could see her fiery blush. She had to get away from Scott
now
, or she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

“I can’t see in here. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Wait a sec.” He moved away from her and turned on a light at the opposite side of the galley. Squinting against the brightness, she refused to look at him. He might be just as aroused as she was, and if so, she didn’t want to know it.

“The head is down and to the left.”

“Head?” Now her fantasy was about dropping to her knees and diving under that kilt.

“That’s what a bathroom on a boat is called—the head.” He pointed down the narrow hallway.

“Oh.” Her face went up in flames again. She thought she heard him chuckle as she closed the door. Well, this room was barely big enough to turn around in.

If she wasn’t so attracted to Scott, she wouldn’t be having this reaction. Argh! Besides that, months had passed since the last time she’d had sex. She’d tried to pretend she was asexual like Fletcher. Not so. She was turning into a nympho.

She and Fletcher had tried having sex twice, but the first time had been awkward, and the second experience had left them both frustrated. They hadn’t broached the subject since. So why was she still dating him? Because she liked him—or at least she thought she had. There was nothing technically wrong with Fletcher. He was intelligent, wealthy, generous, and they shared a love of animals. Was that enough to keep them together?