Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROBBIE
“Robbie! Wait up!”
Cat’s voice carries through the trees from somewhere behind me. Fuck’s sake. Why won’t she and her poor excuse for a skirt leave me alone? I’m furious with her right now. She had no right to do what she did in the pub. And now I have to walk home? Just fucking great.
I march deeper into Bannock Woods, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above, casting shadows across the forest floor. The night air is cool against my heated skin. Somewhere in the distance an owl hoots, the sound echoing through the darkness.
“Robbie, please! Slow down!”
Twigs snap as she hurries to catch up, but I don’t turn around. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll take the hint and piss off.
No such luck. Within moments she’s at my side, breathless from jogging to keep up with my long strides.
“Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there,” she says, “but you don’t have to storm off like this.”
“I’m not storming off. I’m going home, and you should do the same.”
“You want me to go home? Through the woods? At night? Alone? That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”
I stop abruptly and turn to face her. The moonlight catches in her long auburn hair, giving it a silvery sheen. Her hazel eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed. Angry though I am, I can’t deny she looks especially beautiful tonight.
“Gentlemanly?” I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “We both know I’m no gentleman, and I didn’t ask you to follow me. You know the way back.”
“But—”
I step closer to her, towering over her. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about? Why are you so desperate to sleep with me?”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off.
“Let me guess. You’re going through some delayed teenage rebellion. A bit tragic in your twenties, don’t you think?” She flinches, but I don’t stop. “You’re an English teacher. You’re into books. So maybe you want to gather a story or two of your own before you inevitably settle down with some dull, boring man in a dull, boring house with two well-behaved but dull and boring children, a boy and a girl. Am I right?”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s not?—”
“I bet you only want this so when you’re old and grey, you’ve got at least one interesting tale to tell. ‘Oh, did I ever mention the time I slept with Bannock’s bad boy?’” I mimic her voice, making it high and breathy. Then I shoot her a steely look. “I know your type, Catriona McIntyre.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” she snaps. “And that’s not fair. I’ve been trying to help you clear your name!”
“Aye, and I appreciate that, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you.”
“I never said it did!” Her fists clench at her sides. “And I’m not some daft wee girl playing at being adventurous. I’m experienced! I know what I want.”
I scoff. “Oh, really? Don’t tell me. When you were at university, did you have missionary sex with a few polite, well-educated uni boys?” I gasp mockingly. “How very daring of you!”
Her cheeks flush darker. I’ve hit a nerve. Good. Maybe now she’ll leave me alone.
I turn and walk off. The path to my cottage is familiar—I’ve walked it countless times—but in the darkness, with the trees looming overhead and shadows playing tricks on my eyes, it feels different. Wilder. Less safe.
Footsteps behind me. Christ, she’s persistent.
“Come on, Robbie!” Cat’s voice carries through the stillness like a thread tugging at my resolve. “One night—that’s all I’m asking for, and I bet you want it as much as I do. So what’s the harm in a bit of fun?”
Something inside me snaps. The frustration, the desire I’ve been fighting, the sheer bloody-mindedness of this woman—it’s too much. I spin around and close the distance between us in two quick strides, then I plant my hands on her shoulders and press her back against the nearest tree.
Her breath hitches, her eyes widening, but it isn’t fear staring back at me. It’s something far more dangerous. Anticipation.
“I went to the Pheasant tonight for one reason only.” My face is inches from hers, and my frustration bleeds into every word. “Not to make small talk with locals over a pint. God no. No, I went to pick up a woman to help me forget about the shit week I’ve had. And I found one—until you scared her off with your wee act. Because you just couldn’t resist sticking your nose into something that didn’t concern you.”
“Oh, Robbie,” she says, completely unfazed by my words. She slips a finger under the waistband of my jeans—not tugging, not teasing, just resting there. “You were looking for a woman, and here I am. And I’m not going anywhere until you stop pretending you don’t want me.”
Fuck. All the reasons I’ve been telling myself to steer clear of Catriona McIntyre are dissolving under the buzz of alcohol and that scent of hers—a heady mix of something floral and sweet that makes my head spin. Plus, her finger is right there ...
My cock twitches to life, betraying me just when I need it to stay the hell in line. I grit my teeth hard enough to crack enamel, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how much she’s getting to me.
“Cat,” I say slowly, deliberately, “I guarantee you can’t handle me.” I lean closer to her, pinning her further against the rough bark of the tree. “Sex with me isn’t soft or sweet, lass. It’s raw, and it’d leave a good girl like you in tears. This is your chance to get out of here, and I suggest you take it. Because if you stay any longer, I may not be able to go on resisting you.”
She doesn’t flinch. If anything, fire sparks in her eyes. “So you do want me?”
A sneer tugs at my lips, and I press closer still to her. She doesn’t try to get away from me. If anything, she pushes right back, and that’s when I know she feels it—my cock stiffening, pressing ever more insistently against her.
Leaning close to her ear, I whisper, “Of course I want you. Can’t you feel how much I fucking want you?” Then I yank myself sharply back from her, creating space between us before I lose all sense entirely.
Her eyes drift down—shamelessly—to where I’m hard against my jeans. Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip.
Christ.
“This is your chance to go,” I warn again. “I suggest you scram.”
“No.” That’s all she says before stepping forwards until there isn’t even a breath of space between us. Her fingers find me through the denim, curling around me, squeezing just enough to drive me insane.
“I want this,” she insists.
Fuck. I can’t go on resisting. Without a word, I reach down and unbuckle my belt, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet of the forest.
“Here?” Her earlier boldness wavers.
“It’s now or never, princess.”
I unzip my jeans and shove both them and my boxers down, revealing my cock to the cool night air. It stands tall, hard as steel, the moonlight catching on the silver barbell pierced through the head. Cat’s eyes immediately lock onto it, and her sharp intake of breath is loud enough to make me smirk. For once she doesn’t have some smartarse comment ready. In fact, she looks completely out of her depth. I knew she was too much of a good girl for this.
“Thought so,” I say, reaching for my jeans. “You can’t handle me.”
But before I can pull them up, her hand shoots out to stop me. Tentatively—almost shyly—her fingers brush the piercing, and the contact sends a jolt straight through me. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes wide with what I think might be awe, she explores it some more. Her touch is cautious but curious, like it’s something dangerous but too damn fascinating for her to resist.
“Holy shit, Robbie,” she says eventually. “That’s... unbelievably sexy.”
She presses at it a little harder now, testing the metal as if she can’t quite believe it’s real. The barbell shifts slightly under my skin, sending a shiver all the way up my spine. And when she twists it experimentally between her thumb and forefinger... oh, man. Pleasure zips through me like an electric current, sharp enough to make me hiss softly through my teeth.
“I didn’t know about this piercing,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving it. “Your eyebrow, your nipple—I’ve seen those. But this ... this is a surprise. A very nice surprise.”
Her deliberate wee touches drive me crazy. They’re maddeningly perfect and perfectly maddening all at once. Already my breathing is wrecked, shallow and uneven.
Finally she stops toying with my piercing and wraps her hand around my thick shaft instead. Heat shoots through me like a flame licking over my skin. My breath catches, only for a second, but that’s enough for her to notice and for her lips to curl into a sly little smirk.
But then she blinks, and suddenly her eyes are all wide and full of mock innocence. It’s like she heard every word I said earlier about her being a good girl, and now she’s decided to weaponise it against me.
“Tell me what to do,” she murmurs, pleading and breathy like some bashful virgin. “Please!”
Fuck, the act is pretty convincing. I could almost believe this really is her first time.
“On your knees,” I bite out.
She doesn’t even hesitate, just sinks onto the forest floor, bare knees and all. Her eyes briefly flick up to mine before dropping again and focusing on my hard length.
“Open your mouth,” I order.
Her soft lips part without a single word of argument, and she moves closer to me, her warm breath ghosting over my skin. My cock twitches in response.
“This is your last chance,” I grind out, even though every nerve in my body is screaming at me to shut up and let her do this. “You’re too good for this. Too good for me.”
Instead of answering, she tilts her head, and her tongue flicks across my piercing.
Christ!
A moment later her tongue slips out again, only this time it lingers, prodding at the metal, exploring it, swirling round and round it. Bloody hell. If she doesn’t stop teasing and take me into her mouth soon, I’m going to lose my mind.
My hands move almost of their own accord, finding their way to Cat’s hair—soft, silky, and begging to be tangled between my fingers. I fist a handful at the back of her head, not too rough, but enough to make sure she knows exactly who’s in charge here.
“Enough games. Take it, lass. All of it.”
There’s no pause, no hesitation. She dives straight in, and the wet heat of her mouth engulfs me.
An involuntary groan escapes my throat. It feels incredible. Still, I grit out, “More!”
Cat obliges, sinking further down onto me. I forget everything—the resort, the accusations, all of it. I’m lost in the sensations of her mouth around me.
She starts to move, her lips sliding up and down my shaft in slow, deliberate strokes. But I’m not in the mood for slow tonight. I’m wound too tight, too frustrated, too desperate for release.
“Faster!” I order, the command biting through the air.
She glances up at me, her eyes flashing with a hint of defiance, like she wants to test me just for the fun of it. But then she does pick up the pace, her tongue swirling around the head of my cock with every upward motion. I groan again, my fingers tightening in her hair as I guide her movements.
“That’s it,” I mutter, my voice strained. “Good girl.”
The praise seems to spur her on. She grips my thighs and takes me deeper, her throat relaxing as she swallows more of me—more than I expected she could handle. My head falls back, and I drag in a shaky breath. The night sky stretches above me, its vastness framed by dark branches, but all I can focus on is the wet heat of her mouth, the pressure of her tongue, the softness of her lips as they tighten around me, creating a suction that’s driving me to the brink.
“Fuck. You’re better at this than I thought.”
Cat hums in response, the vibration buzzing through my entire body. Her movements quicken, her lips gliding over me with a slick, intense rhythm. Each pass pulls me deeper into her mouth until I’m hitting the back of her throat with every descent.
Tension coils in my gut. I’m close—too close.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her eyes snap up to mine.
“I’m going to come. Don’t swallow it.”
My release crashes into me like a storm tearing through the woods—wild and unstoppable. A guttural sound escapes my throat, and my hips buck hard, but she doesn’t move away. She stays with me through every shudder until I’m left trembling and raw.
When I’m done, I ease away from her, every nerve in my body still thrumming. “Open,” I rasp.
Cat parts her lips immediately, her tongue glistening with what I just gave her. The sight sends a fresh jolt of heat through me, stirring something primal deep in my gut.
“ Now swallow.”
She obeys, her throat bobbing, then shows me her mouth to prove it’s gone.
I smirk and run a thumb over her swollen lips. “Good girl.”
All the tension drains from my body, replaced by a pleasant, satisfied heaviness. I tuck myself back into my jeans while Cat gets to her feet and brushes herself down.
“I bet,” I murmur, “that if I slipped my hand under your skirt, I’d find you soaked.”
Her cheeks flush, but not from embarrassment. She nods.
“Take your underwear off and give it to me.”
Cat arches a brow but does as she’s told, shimmying her knickers down her legs then stepping out of them and bending to retrieve them. I take them from her, letting my fingers brush hers as I do. Then I lift the lace to my nose for a slow inhale. Her scent is intoxicating: sweet with an edge of musk that floods my veins like whisky straight from the bottle.
“These are mine now,” I say simply, slipping the knickers into my back pocket. “Goodnight, Cat.”
Without another word, I turn and stride off through the woods towards my cottage. I don’t need to look back to know she’s still standing there in that indecent little skirt with nothing underneath now to shield her from the chill. She’ll be wondering what the hell just happened—and no doubt cursing me under her breath—but that’s fine by me.
Let her wonder. Let her curse my name with every step back to Bannock. As for me, I’ll be grinning to myself the whole walk home.