9. Maisie
maisie
I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone on purpose. I’ve kissed Alphas during my heat, undoubtedly. But when was the last time I kissed someone because I really wanted to?
Years. It had been years.
I don’t dwell on how sad that all sounds. Instead, I let myself really be in the moment with Greer. His kisses are controlled, and consuming. He shuts my brain off in the best way, allowing me to just feel.
Every touch from him is electric. From the way his beard rubs against my skin, the size and weight of his body against mine, the way his thumb directs where he wants my jaw. Most of all, the purr rumbling from his chest; it calms me in a way I haven’t felt in well, forever.
Nothing has felt this good in a very long time and we’re fully clothed.
When he tells me he wishes he could scent me, for the first time in forever, I can’t help but to wish the same thing. What if I could scent this Alpha who’s making me feel so damn good? Maybe it’s for the best that I can’t, because I already feel completely out-of-control right now.
“That’s it, sweet girl. Take what you need,” he says, and I sigh dreamily as he presses kisses against my throat.
The lazy Scottish sky blinks down at me as I wantonly grind myself against his large, muscular thigh. His rigid cock is pressed against my stomach and I can’t help but picture how large he is, and how well his knot would stretch me.
Greer’s large palm is splayed on my ass cheek, grinding me against his body, moving me around like I weigh nothing, all the while he kisses me absolutely senseless.
My skirt is bunched at my waist now, only my tights and Greer’s trousers separating our skin from touching when he rubs against just the right spot.
I’m kissing him roughly as I get closer and closer to my release.
Greer grabs my jaw, his fingers slightly calloused as he parts from our kiss and stares at me. Greer looks at me like I’m fascinating, like I’m beautiful.
“That’s it. Is that the spot?” he pants out. “Look at me when you come, angel.”
The words and the way his green eyes can’t look away from me, like watching me get off on just his thigh is the highlight of his day. It’s what breaks me. I shatter into a million blissed out pieces from his touch.
I moan and the sound ripples across the small loch. Greer bucks against my center, grunting and grinding against me through my release. If it wasn’t daytime, I would have sworn I saw stars.
I’m salaciously wet under my tights, but Greer doesn’t move his thigh or his body. He continues looking down at me as I come down from my release.
When I’m finally back online, I clear my throat, a sense of insecurity flooding through me. He’s still hard and surely dry humping on a small shore wasn’t what he had in mind today.
His fingers tighten on my jaw, his lips press against mine in a soft kiss.
“That was…perfect, sweet Omega,” he says, which has my heart stuttering for a second.
I’ve always been defensive when being called an Omega, but the way Greer says it makes me feel cherished.
“You’re, um…still,” I say, glancing down at his crotch.
He just smiles at me. “Aye,” he says, bringing more kisses against my jaw and cheeks.
I swallow thickly, feeling like I’m being extremely greedy by soaking up all these kisses he’s willing to give.
“I could—” I don’t know what I’m about to suggest, but he cuts me off from that train of thought, anyway.
“Oh Maisie,” he says with a laugh. “It’s been a long time for me, too. I’m well taken care of.”
I glance back down at his crotch and back up at him. His beard covers a good portion of his cheekbones, but they’re pink.
Me and this Alpha both came with our clothes completely on and something about that has a laugh bubbling up.
“We’re no better than the local teenagers,” I joke and he smiles, coming back down and peppering kisses all over me.
“Suppose not,” he says, straightening out my glasses and pushing a rogue curl out of my face. “You truly are the loveliest creature.”
I clear my throat. “American men don’t say things like that,” I say and Greer grunts.
“Their loss,” he says, kissing my cheek one last time before he starts to untangle us.
After the high of my orgasm, there’s a bit of timidness taking over as I go to push down my skirt. But large, freckled hands beat me to it.
Greer gently straightens out my skirt. When he has it on straight, he tugs on it.
“I like the way you dress,” he says. I’m not sure how many more compliments I’ll be able to handle for the day. “I also like your wild hair, your round wee glasses—”
“Okay stop. Too many sweet compliments.”
“Ah. Well, next I was going to say I like your arse too.”
I can’t help but to laugh, falling against the blanket and Greer does the same thing. We’re quiet for a few moments and I expect bubbling panic to rip through me, but it doesn’t.
“Would you let me cuddle you?” Greer says, cutting through the silence and I look over at him. The large Alpha needs cuddles.
“Who am I to deny you?”
“Indeed,” he says, splaying his arm flat and I wiggle across the space, putting my head on his chest, which adorably starts up with a purr again.
“You purr a lot,” I say off handedly.
“Not normally, no.”
Those words stick with me for the rest of the day, along with all the soft lingering whispers of Greer’s touch.
The sun is setting as Greer pulls up to the Heather Beag. It’s almost like time paused when we were together. It was just us, and nature. There were no deadlines, no expectations. It was just me and this man who made me feel things I’ve never felt.
It’s made me realize that my sister is right. I’ve ignored so much when it comes to being an Omega. Almost like if I did a good enough job pretending I didn’t have needs, that maybe they would go away.
What happened between Greer and I today has changed things, and there’s fear there, but also…hopefulness.
Greer reaches across the console, squeezing my thigh with his left hand.
“You’ll come to me and tell me if you’re feeling unsettled,” he says. He doesn’t pose it as a question. It’s a demand, which somehow makes things easier.
“Okay,” I rasp out.
He gives my thigh another squeeze and rounds the vehicle, opening my door. He puts an assured hand on my lower back as he walks me through the front. Oh God, if Birdie sees us, she’s going to ask a million questions, probably along the lines of if I got laid and if it made me less neurotic.
But it isn’t Birdie or Effie we run into in the foyer of the Heather Beag, no the world isn’t that kind. Instead, it’s Callum.
Shouldn’t he be cooking at Greer’s?
He’s carrying a toolbox, his white shirt covered in water? The shirt clings to his skin, showing off his thick body. It makes my mouth go dry, and I quickly shake that thought out of my head. Okay, so the asshole is hot. Anyone with eyes could deduce that, it’s fine.
Callum looks between me and Greer, his nostrils flaring. Sometimes I forget that just because I can’t scent others doesn’t mean the same for them. I must be drenched in Greer’s scent.
It’s almost like a standoff for a few long stretches and I’m ready to hightail it up to my room when Callum finally speaks.
“You’re a fucking eejit, Greer.”
Greer waves him off, not even phased by the insult, and pushes me toward the stairs to my room. At least I wasn’t the one receiving his rude words, though I suppose he’s calling Greer that because he was clearly with me.
“Ignore him. Jealousy is a very foul emotion,” Greer says the last sentence extremely loudly.
“Shh. There’s other guests.”
“Are there?” Greer asks, and it has me pausing halfway up the stairs.
“Wait. Are there no other guests staying here?”
Greer rubs his fingers through his beard. “They’ve had a few rough seasons. With the new hotel only a few kilometers outside of town and the rise of private rentals, it’s been tough.”
I furrow my brows as I head up the rest of the stairs. I knock on the door twice with no answer before unlocking the door. Birdie is nowhere to be found.
Greer leans against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at the messy side of the room, and then my organized side of the room.
“Let me just see what Birdie is up to.”
Hey, Bird. What time will you be home tonight?
Birdie
Late actually. Got caught up with something. Don’t wait up <3
I huff out a breath. She’s probably made a slew of friends already in town, and as far as she knows, I’m still working.
My stomach grumbles and Greer takes one step into the room.
“Is your sister coming back?” he asks.
“Not till late, it’s fine. I’ll probably just watch one of the million shows I told myself I’d get caught up on but never did or something.”
“Or you could let me feed you again, a proper meal,” he suggests.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to, Maisie.”
“Let me just go get cleaned up and changed? That one is my bed, if you want to sit.” I point toward my bed, and he takes a seat, pulling out his phone while I head to the bathroom.
As I pull off my slick-drenched tights, I do a little recap of the day. I went to the market to keep Effie company, which led to me dry humping an extremely hot Scotsman on the side of a loch, and even after hanging out nearly all day he wants more?
“It’s fine, Maisie. It’s cool. Totally normal,” I whisper to myself, finally getting the tights off. It’s only then that I realize I didn’t bring any damn clothes into the bathroom with me.
The very hot, large Alpha sitting on my bed is making me lose my mind, I decide.
With the skirt still on, I slip back into the room. Greer glances down at my bare legs and smirks as I open the drawer, grabbing a new pair of panties and a pair of pants, before half walking/jogging to the bathroom.
“God, Maisie. He saw you come and you’re nervous about going to dinner?” I chastise myself.
It’s just dinner. I eat all the time. It’s fine. There’s a clear line drawn anyway, right? I leave in a few weeks and this is all just fun. All in the name of figuring out who I am and what I want in life.
What if he isn’t thinking like that. Shit. I’ll have to make my intentions clearer, right?
When I glance in the mirror, I groan. My mascara is slightly smudged and I fix that but leave my hair wild and down like it’s been all day.
It’s not a date. It’s just dinner. Dinner after we made each other orgasm.
I know why I’m nervous, but I don’t dare even think the words. This isn’t romance, this isn’t dating. This is just having fun. I will not catch feelings for the Highlander on my bed or any others in this small town. I’m just letting my hair down, having a little fun.
What could go wrong?