Chapter 15
Bea
But yoga and deep breathing had nothing on the memory of one smouldering Scottish bar owner who Bea couldn’t stop thinking about.
Fantasising about. He smelt lovely; that lime and cedarwood smell she’d first noticed in the coffee shop had lingered all evening behind the bar.
It intoxicated her when she was close to him.
That combined with meeting those emerald eyes and imagining them locked onto her as he lay on top of her naked, had made it difficult for Bea to recalibrate and focus on the job.
In her attempts to dissipate some of the tension created by an evening in the proximity of Cal Butler, Bea moved to writing. If she put her fantasies down into words while they were fresh and almost tangible, it would free her body of the thoughts. Right?
Who was she kidding? Bea tapped away on her laptop for over an hour, the rough unpolished prose capturing the evening’s experiences, the things she noticed about Cal, the way he moved, his energy, the cut of his jaw, the timbre of his voice, how she imagined being in bed with him.
The words flowed onto the page, but by the time Bea had finished writing, she found that she’d been so long with imaginary naked Cal Butler – or Hal Hunter – that she had worked herself into an intense state of arousal. There was only one way to unwind.
Bea undressed and stepped into the shower, needing cleansed after the hot, sweaty shift at the bar.
And while the water cascaded down over her breasts and onto her already soaking sex, she reached down, shut the world out and imagined it was Cal Butler whose hand, whose mouth even, was between her thighs and bringing her to a delicious Scotsman-induced climax.