Chapter 19 Tierney
Iwas wearing a summer dress.
With my sneakers.
There hadn’t been a day since I’d moved to Scotland when I hadn’t worn jeans, and I found the dress in the back of my closet. Most of my stuff was in storage, but I’d packed a couple of nice dresses in case.
Tonight was my first “in case.”
Still, I couldn’t quite bring myself to don a pair of matching heels, considering we were taking Ramsay’s boat over to Stòr. But I wanted to wear a dress. My legs were my best feature. At least I thought so, and people had told me over the years that I had great legs.
Ramsay hadn’t gotten a chance to see my best feature and although he would have eventually, I wanted to look and feel good tonight.
The dress paid off.
As Ramsay helped me down into his boat that evening, his gaze was practically glued to my legs.
Ramsay waved away my offer of assistance, so I sat in the boat and Akiva rested her head on my lap.
Ramsay untied the small vessel from the dock and then started the engine.
He drove us over to Stòr without saying a word.
I noted his wet hair and the fresh scent wafting toward me.
He’d showered somewhere. Probably at Quinn’s.
Instead of being nervous about his renewed taciturnity, I enjoyed the cool breeze off the water and the way the sunset sparkled across the sound in deep pinks and mauves. I wanted to talk about how this was my first pink sunset in Scotland, but nerves clamped my mouth shut.
Last night I hadn’t been nervous. Some bold woman overtook my body, and I was more forthright with Ramsay than I’d ever been with any man. That’s how much I wanted him.
Now, however, I had butterflies.
And I didn’t know why.
We were heading over to his island to have sex. There would be no rejection.
He wanted this too.
Right?
Looking back, it was ridiculous of me to worry that a grown-ass man with such decided opinions as Ramsay McRae would ever do anything he didn’t want to do, but in that moment, my insecurities got the better of me.
Because the man had not said a single word since he’d picked me up from my apartment. His damn dog showed me more affection!
Hadn’t Ramsay told me before I was too young?
Too sweet.
Maybe he was remembering that I wasn’t his type after all.
To my surprise, we didn’t pull in to the small dock at the white cottage. Ramsay had a second dock closer to his house. Once we were safely anchored, he wordlessly helped me onto shore and Akiva ran ahead.
I tried to catch Ramsay’s eye, but he avoided it.
Shit.
Then …
He wrapped his big hand around mine, his callouses scraping deliciously against my skin, and he led me upward through the thicket of grass and onto a trail through the woodlands. With his free hand, he switched on his phone’s flashlight and led us through the woods.
Biting my lip against a cheesy, girlish grin, I followed, my gaze veering between the path in front of us and his hold on my hand.
It felt like forever since someone had held my hand.
An ache scored across my chest.
Akiva barked in the distance and I understood why when the trees opened up to the clearing and Ramsay’s home. His beautiful dog stood on the porch, impatiently waiting to be let in.
Ramsay’s fingers tightened around mine and I hurried to keep up with him as he marched up to the house.
He cut me a look as he dropped his hold on me to open the door. “I need to feed Akiva first and then I’ll cook us something.”
That was the plan, after all.
He would be gentlemanly enough to feed me first.
But as we walked into his home and I drew in his scent, a need tightened in my belly and tingles awakened between my legs.
Ramsay moved around his kitchen, grabbing Akiva’s dinner dish to feed her the organic dog food I knew he spent a fortune on. That was partially why her coat was so shiny and perfect. Affection warmed me. I loved how much he loved his dog.
He lowered to put the dish before her, his shirt stretching across his broad, muscled back as he reached out to pet her. “That’s it, sweetheart. Good girl,” he murmured as she ate.
Then he stood and turned to face me. His eyes dropped to my bare legs and traveled slowly upward until I felt like my knees were blushing from his intense perusal. When his gaze caught on my breasts, they seemed to tighten against the fabric of the dress, my nipples peaking into needy little buds.
“I know I promised dinner first …” His voice was hoarse with sexual want. “But if I don’t get inside you soon, I might lose my fucking mind.”
Triumph—exultant, smug triumph—flooded me along with wet arousal. “I’ve wanted you inside me since the first time I walked through this door. Dinner can wait.”
His eyes narrowed. “You should know I like to be in charge. If you don’t like something we’re doing, we stop, but otherwise when we’re in there”—he indicated toward the bedroom with a jerk of his chin—“I’m the boss.”
I shivered with excitement and knew I could probably come with his rumbling those three words in my ear. “Okay.”
“To clarify, anytime we’re having sex, whether it’s in that room or bent over a table, I’m the boss.”
An erotic image filled my mind, and I sucked in a breath. “Have you been thinking about bending me over a table?”
Ramsay took a step toward me. “Every time you lie and evade about the threats against you, I’ve wanted to bend you over the nearest surface and smack your arse until you tell me the truth.”
“Oh.” I wheezed out as my arousal deepened.
Funny. If Hugh or any ex had said such a thing to me, I probably would have sneered at them and told them to go fuck themselves.
Ramsay threatening to spank me … okay, wow.
New kink activated.
What was happening to me?
His lip curled at the corner. “Then I’d fuck you until you screamed for me.”
“Let’s just …” My skin felt like fire. “Let’s just skip dinner.”
He considered me, drawing his thumb over his bottom lip as his gaze swept over my body again. I shivered as his pale wolf eyes turned smoky.
Finally, he crossed the room to stand inches from me.
He was so close I could feel the heat of him, smell that earthy sandalwood that made me want to bury my nose in his throat.
Ramsay reached out and slipped his fingers beneath the right strap of my dress, his rough fingertips stroking my collarbone. “Did you wear this for me?”
I tilted my chin, something about his tone sparking my defiance. “What if I did?”
“Dress, jeans, bin bag … Whatever you wore tonight was coming off as soon as we walked in this door.” And true to his word, he grabbed the hem of the dress and I had the presence of mind to raise my arms as he yanked the material up and over my head.
He threw the dress behind him and it hit the sofa. Ramsay was too busy eating me up with his eyes to care he’d casually discarded a dress that cost more than most people’s car payments.
I stood in a lacy matching bra and panties that I’d never wear on any normal occasion.
Truthfully, I was Miss Comfort when it came to underwear.
Cotton briefs all the way. But I’d dug out a peachy-pink sexy number that suited my coloring.
Considering his domineering attitude, it occurred to me Ramsay was probably used to women who wore overtly sexual lingerie.
Perhaps Ava wore red or black lace or didn’t wear underwear at all.
Maybe my peachy-pink number was more girlish than sexy.
My jaw clenched in self-irritation as Ramsay drank in every inch of me.
I’d never been insecure about sex.
The reality was I’d slept with four men in my twenty-seven years and all of them had been disappointing.
The closest I’d come to orgasming with a partner was with Hugh.
My first three boyfriends were all very similar.
Nice, good guys. But they’d also been very considerate during sex.
Very gentle. And it wasn’t until I confessed my frustration to London that she told me that because I was kind of an alpha in life, I probably needed someone more dominant than me in bed.
So I’d gone on a date with Hugh, despite my misgivings about him.
He wasn’t particularly kind or gentle. But he was confident, self-assured. And he took what he wanted in bed. While I’d definitely been more aroused by him … he was ultimately a selfish lover. He wanted blow jobs … but he didn’t like going down on a woman.
That was fine.
Just don’t expect blow jobs in return, right?
And now here I was finally about to have sex with a man and his mere warning that he took control in the bedroom had soaked my lace panties through.
Yet, for the first time, I wondered if I wasn’t going to be what he needed.
I didn’t like that.
Suddenly, Ramsay took me by the chin and tilted my head back, his eyes searching mine. “Where did you go?”
Surprised by his perceptiveness, I moved to retreat and his grip on my chin tightened.
“Don’t lie. Not in this.”
Oh God. I didn’t want to ruin the moment between us by being honest.
“Silver … we don’t do this unless you’re absolutely certain you want to.”
I knew that without a doubt. That with Ramsay, even if he was “in control,” I’d always be the one really in control. If I said no or stop at any point, we’d stop.
I trusted him and at once realized I hadn’t trusted anyone like that since London and my parents. Not even Cammie or Quinn.
Why him? What was it about him that made me feel so goddamn safe?
“Silver.”
I could feel Ramsay withdrawing, and I wrapped my hand around his thick wrist to stop him.
“I’ve never worried about not being good in bed before …
because … well, quite frankly, I haven’t had the …
” I sucked in a breath and bravely spat out, “I haven’t been with the right men before.
I’ve maybe orgasmed once with a guy and the rest have been self-induced.
Other than last night with you, I mean. Maybe it’s a me problem. ”
His expression tightened.
I smirked unhappily. “I’m standing here in my underwear realizing you’re probably very experienced and …”
“And what?” Ramsay took hold of my hand that was wrapped around his other arm and gently lowered it until I cupped his arousal straining against his zipper.
“I want you. You want me. Experience has nothing to do with it. Get out of your head and get in there.” He jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Wait for me at the foot of the bed.”
The instinct to balk at his command was strong, even as arousal blossomed within me with immediate intensity. It was a confusing dichotomy and his lip curled as if he read that flash of defiance in my eyes and liked it.
“Go.”
I pulled my hand free and reminded him through clenched teeth, “You get to boss me around, but only with sex.”
His answering cocky grin almost melted me. “Aye, I can’t imagine otherwise. Now go.”
Despite his gruff delivery, his words had soothed my insecurities, and I found my hips swaying in invitation as I strode across his home and into his bedroom. I’d snooped in here the last time, thinking it very utilitarian. Bed, bedside tables, integral closets, and an en suite.
His bed, unsurprisingly, was made of solid oak. There were no throws or throw pillows.
Nothing feminine.
Except me in my peachy-pink lacy number as I turned to face the door and wait for him. I heard him mutter to Akiva and realized he was making sure she had everything she needed before he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He’d kicked off his boots already.
Our eyes met and held, and there was that electric spark that had existed between us from the very first moment we’d met.
Holding my gaze, Ramsay pulled off his Henley and threw it to the floor.
I sucked in a breath, breaking his stare to take in his strong, broad chest. His biceps were bulky and sculpted, as were his pecs.
But he didn’t have some superhero eight-pack or even a six-pack.
He was rock hard and defined, but in a manly, natural way.
His chest was lightly furred and a happy trail led downward to what I knew was going to be a generous surprise waiting for me in his boxers.
He was sexy as fuck.
He was a man.
And when he unbuckled his belt slowly, pinning me in place with those wolf eyes, my inner muscles clenched with anticipation. My underwear was a goner.
Ramsay’s lips curled as if he could read what undressing in front of me was doing to my body. Cocky Scotsman.
The sound of his zipper seemed overtly loud and sexual, and I licked my lips, devouring him as he shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs and stepped out of them.
His cock …
I didn’t even know if I’d fit my hand around it.
It strained toward his abdomen, swollen and big.
Big man, big cock.
I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “What now?”