Chapter 18
eighteen
OWEN
The tours didn’t stop all week. We’d never been so busy on the tourism front, and Isla and I were wiped. With the way things were going, we’d need to hire some more staff, which was a good problem to have, but an exhausting one nonetheless.
Tourists queued in oversized coats, faces pinked by the wind. I did my spiel on repeat until the words became nonsense, the more I said them. I could probably give them by rote while asleep. Hell, maybe I did.
Isla ran the gift shop and the marketing like a bleary-eyed general, mid-whisky-war with no white flag in sight.
We sold out of the twenty-year-old merchandise before noon, then the Otterleigh Bay emblazoned glasses, and even the new Meowrse merchandise that Isla had ordered.
I’d had my backside pinched by more than a dozen sweet-faced old ladies, and couldn’t wait for the day to be over.
It was a far cry from the sporadic tours and quiet calm we usually had.
I missed it.
‘We need more bags,’ Isla hissed, scribbling on a pad. ‘And more of everything. We’ll need to up production and bottling. And sign these order forms – all of them.’
‘Breathe,’ I said, leafing through the pages and signing as quickly as I could.
‘I am breathing. What I need is caffeine. Lots of it.’ She shoved a box of keyrings at Jeff as he blundered through to help. ‘Not those, the other ones. Owen, your next lot are salivating by the entrance.’
I checked my watch and sighed. What I wanted was to wrap myself between Claire’s thighs and hide from it all.
To lose myself in her delicious freckled grin and shut the world out.
I went through the motions with the next tour, trying to keep my tone even and the jokes light.
The pipes sang outside as they neared the end.
Whisky, rain, damp and sweat tainted the air.
Someone asked if the cat ever made a public appearance.
‘Rarely,’ I said on his behalf. Three women took a photo of the cat flap anyway.
By the time I saw my last lot out and locked up the tasting room, my back had ached and my feet throbbed.
The last checks took longer than usual as I grumbled my way through the building.
I turned off the lights and checked the valves.
Despite my bone-tiredness, I still made my way to the village after a speed shower and a change.
I couldn’t help it, Claire drew me to her like a flame to my horny little moth.
She waited by the low wall, and my heart skipped at the sight of her tumbling red hair, the breeze dancing its fingers through it.
She wore the jumper I’d loaned her on that fateful day she tumbled into my distillery like a wet cat.
Claire gripped two paper-wrapped parcels, and her face lit up as I parked beside her.
‘Hungry,’ Claire said, holding up the bags. ‘Two haddock’s, one obscenely large portion of chips. And the curry sauce smells divine.’
‘Mmm.’ The car door shut behind me as I made my way over, stealing a lingering kiss before leaning on the wall beside her. ‘You’re amazing.’
‘Tell Isla that, she thinks I keep distracting you.’
‘She’s thrilled.’ I grinned at her. ‘She’s been wanting me to find… well, a you, I guess. How was your day?’
‘Finished the bedroom. Learned how to use a staple gun to upholster the kitchen chairs. It was quite satisfying, to be honest. Even Trevor took one look at me with it and left to hassle someone else.’ She handed me a warm paper parcel. ‘Eat.’
We ate with plastic forks and frozen fingers, swivelling on the low wall to look out over the sea.
The sun set behind us, but the sea still stole its pinks and oranges.
Gulls hovered nearby, calculating their chances of thievery.
Trevor lurked three benches down, the one dark feather in his chest giving him away.
He may be a relentless thug, but I admired his optimism.
‘Don’t think about it,’ I told him.
Claire tucked her hair behind her ear and gave a contented little sigh. Salt clung to her cheeks, and paint creased in the lines of her knuckles. I wanted to kiss both off. ‘How many tours today?’
‘Too many. I need to hire a tour guide or two, I think. There’s only so many times I can tell the family story and let old women pinch me.’
Her laugh spread warmth in my chest. ‘Do I need to come down and fight off the competition?’
‘Maybe. Do you carry Werthers Originals in your purse? I get offered at least three a day over there.’
‘I’m sure I can make that happen.’ She blew on a chip before popping it in her mouth and moaning over the soft potatoey goodness.
We ate in an easy hush. As the sun dipped and threw the sea into the darker shade of blue, I slid closer to her on the wall, stealing the heat from her thigh against mine.
‘Owen?’
‘Mmm?’
She took in the horizon a moment before stealing a glance at me.
‘I want to touch you. Properly this time. We can do it on your terms. Tie me down and show me what you like. But…’ She swallowed, crumpling the chip paper in her hands. ‘I need more.’
The wind slipped up my back. The instant urge was to say no.
To keep pretending like it would stop me from falling for her if I kept a veneer of separation between us.
But who was I kidding? I’d already called for the red-headed whirlwind.
I looked at her pretty pink lips and imagined them exploring me.
My grip tightened on my own takeaway wrapper.
‘Claire,’ I started.
‘Can you resist an offer of me on my knees for you? Will you make me beg to taste you? Because I will. I need to feel you come. To know it’s at my touch. I want all of you.’
In honesty, the nightly discipline of a cold shower and my hand wasn’t cutting it when I could have her. Maybe I could give her more… I wanted to.
‘What if I put you on your knees, but tie you up too?’
Her eyes glittered. ‘I’d say let’s fucking go, Sir.’
The way Sir sounded in her mouth already had me halfway to hard.
We walked the long way to Rose Cottage, abandoning my truck for some fresh air, after a quick pit stop to grab my rucksack.
We’d barely made it inside before Claire threw herself against me, pulling me into a kiss drenched with promise.
The chaos of earlier fled under the stroke of her tongue, and I pressed her up the stairs, our kiss not ceasing until we made it to the bedroom.
Small, cosy and smelling like fresh paint.
I approved of the slatted wooden head and footboards on the bed.
Perfect for restraint. She closed the door behind us as I turned on a low lamp and kicked off my boots.
‘Come here, darling,’ I said, gathering her in my arms.
I kissed while stripping her down, removing her clothes piece by piece until she straddled me naked. She kissed back with a passion that rocked me, each slide of her tongue stoking my need.
‘Safeword?’
‘Driftwood,’ she breathed.
‘Words if you need them.’ I tipped her jaw to take more of her.
‘You too,’ she murmured into my mouth. I pulled back and took in her lust-hazed face, her pupils blown wide and her lips kiss-red.
I brought the rope out and tied her in my lap.
Looping the rope around her chest, making her nipples stand high and pink.
Then over her shoulders and securing her hands behind her.
I peppered her freckled skin with kisses as I worked.
Eventually, I lowered her to the floor and knotted a piece of the rope, fitting it snugly between her thighs, the knot biting against her wetness.
‘Oh,’ she moaned as she shifted on her knees. Her eyes widened as the knot moved with her, rubbing her right where she needed it.
‘Oh, indeed, Claire. You didn’t think I’d let you take my dick without it making you groan, did you?’
I adored seeing her blissed out with pleasure. More than I’d enjoyed anything else, including my own. Her body became my favourite instrument, and I wanted to spend forever seeing what tunes I could pull from it.
‘Comfortable?’ I asked.
‘God, no,’ she said, voice gone softer than I’d ever heard it. ‘But enjoying it? Fuck yes.’
‘Good. Now watch that potty mouth before I find something to fill it.’
‘Fuck. Shit. Cunt…’ Claire reeled off, a devilish grin splitting her face.
‘Claire,’ I warned, reaching out and pinching a nipple, which made her jerk, which pulled the rope and made her moan. ‘You stop me if—’
‘—if I need to. I know. I promise.’
I stood and stripped, taking my time to build anticipation. There was no hiding the way my cock stood firm and red for her before I’d touched it. Claire eyed it like she’d been starved.
I cupped the back of her head, thumb tipping her jaw, and met her gaze. With my other hand, I slowly stroked my length, inches from her mouth.
‘Please,’ she begged.
‘I love seeing you there, all trussed up and begging for my cock.’
Claire blinked up at me and shifted on her knees, trying to wriggle closer.
My hand rolled around the tip, spreading the glistening precum. I wanted nothing more than to sink deep inside her sweet throat, but the deliciousness of our first time stretched before us.
‘Arch your hips for me, Claire. Roll that knot against your sweet cunt. I want you desperately.’ I continued to stroke myself in long swipes. She gave an impatient little humph. ‘Do it now, or I won’t give you a taste. I’ll paint her tits instead and make you sleep there coated in me all night.’
The dirty words had her biting her lip. And obeying.
She moved her hips, her breath catching as pleasure swept through her.
‘There’s a good girl. Open your mouth for me.’
Her lips parted, and I leant forward, dragging my cock over them.
Fuck me.
I steadied myself against the sloped ceiling, basking in the intense pleasure of the light touch. Why had I denied myself this?
‘Owen,’ she whimpered, and the floor tilted at the desperate need in her voice. ‘More. Please?’
I dipped the tip into her mouth, her tongue swirling against the tender flesh on the underside. ‘Holy shit, Claire.’
She blinked up at me, satisfaction glowing in her eyes.
And when I threaded my hands into her hair, pressing my length into her hot, wet mouth, everything inside me broke out from where I’d so carefully packed it, sweeping through me in a heady moan as pleasure coiled low in my core.
‘Claire.’ Her name was a strangled plea of my own.
I would have said yes to the moon at that moment had she asked for it.