Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
MAISIE
“Is the blindfold really necessary?” I try to sound casual even though my heart is racing.
“Aye, it is. Can’t have you sneaking a peek. That would spoil the surprise.”
Jamie hasn’t even started painting me yet, but I’m already a live wire, every nerve sparking in suspense, waiting for that first stroke. My heart is pounding—I suppose it would be weird if it wasn’t, given I’m lying here naked, blindfolded, and tied to the bed.
“Besides,” Jamie continues, “depriving one sense makes the others stronger.” He leans close so that I can feel his breath on my ear. “I reckon you’re hanging on every word I say. And”—his lips brush my throat, soft as a whisper—“what about that kiss, eh? I bet you really felt it.”
My breath catches. “I... I did. But, you know, being tied up and naked like this... it requires a lot of trust.”
“Aye, it does. But you trust me, right?”
I give the silky scarf knotted around my wrists a little twist and pull, but the headboard doesn’t so much as creak. I’m well and truly stuck, my body stretched out at his mercy. Aye, I’m nervous, but it’s also not exactly a bad place to be.
“I suppose I do—no, I do trust you. But... when it’s your turn? Will you let me blindfold you, tie you up, and strip you naked?”
“Of course. But for now I really need to be getting on with my masterpiece. Are you ready?”
I swallow and nod.
He begins at my neck, the first stroke soft and ticklish, like a feather drifting across my skin. The cool paint contrasts with the warmth of Jamie’s body as he leans close, his breath teasing my collarbone. My senses are on overdrive, every brushstroke magnified, like ripples spreading through a still pond. He trails the brush down my throat, and my back arches instinctively when he guides it lower, tracing a path between my breasts.
“How does that feel?” he murmurs.
“Good!” It comes out as little more than a breathless whisper.
He traces a lazy circle around my left nipple then flicks the tip of the brush over the sensitive peak in barely-there strokes, coaxing it to tighten. Then, with tantalising precision, he gives my right nipple the same exquisite treatment.
Jamie lingers at my chest a while longer before sweeping the brush in a slow, deliberate descent and swirling it around my belly button. The sensation sends an unexpected shiver rippling through me.
“Ticklish, are we?” he asks, proceeding to dip the brush into the shallow hollow of my navel.
I let out a shaky laugh that turns into a gasp when he lingers there, drawing lazy spirals that make my stomach tighten and quiver. My toes curl involuntarily.
And then he shifts his attention to the side, teasing the bristles over the curve of my hip. My breath falters as the brush skims over my most sensitive places in a delicate caress. It glides down the tender skin of my inner thigh, following the length of my leg until it comes to rest at my knee.
By now I’m a quivering mess, every inch of me attuned to him. He swaps sides then, starting at my other hip and repeating the torturously delicious path down my other leg.
And then... then he drags the brush in slow circles that bring him closer and closer back to where I’m aching for him most.
He lets out a low, wicked chuckle. “This might just be my favourite bit.”
The bristles graze the delicate skin between my thighs—soft at first, then firmer with calculated strokes that send sparks shooting straight through me. He spends longer there than anywhere else, stroking, swirling, and driving me absolutely mad.
“Jamie!” I whisper, my voice barely more than a gasp.
“Aye, lass?” he says with a grin in his voice. “I can’t rush perfection. You’ll just have to be patient.”
It’s a ridiculously small patch of skin for Jamie to fuss over with such precision—but, let’s be honest, painting probably isn’t what’s on his mind anymore. Not that I’m complaining. If this is his idea of art, he can take all bloody day to finish.
Finally the brush stills, and my whole body trembles with the loss.
“Well?” I murmur, my voice tight with equal parts need and curiosity. “How does it look?”
“Hmm...” He pauses like he’s truly considering the question. “It’s a masterpiece. But only because I had such a beautiful canvas to start with.”
He undoes my restraints, followed by the blindfold. I blink, adjusting to the light, then get up to inspect myself in the mirror. Across my skin, in loops and swirls, are Celtic patterns. I’d half expected Jamie to slap on a smiley face or something equally daft, but this is actually pretty good. It’s not far off how the actors looked in that famous scene in Highland Legacy , the one I may or may not have paused and stared at for far too long.
And then I notice what he’s done on my chest. Right over my heart are the initials lnl and sl —LochNLoad and SassyLassie—woven into a braided heart. Something warm blooms inside me, unfurling like the first petals of a flower in spring.
“Jamie,” I whisper, “It’s perfect.”
I turn to him. He’s still in his boxers, although they’re doing a piss-poor job of hiding just how... enthusiastic he got during our little art session. My lips twitch into a grin.
“Someone’s keen,” I remark, letting my gaze linger meaningfully.
“That,” Jamie says with a cheeky raise of his brows, “is entirely your fault.”
“Oh?” I step closer and run a finger lightly along his waistband. “Well, guess what? It’s your turn now.” I push him back onto the bed.
His eyes gleaming with anticipation, he stretches his arms lazily above his head, ready for what’s coming.
“Blindfold first,” I say.
He smirks but doesn’t protest as I slide it over his eyes.
“And now for this.” I reach for the scarf he used on me and loop it around his wrists, tying them to the headboard just as securely as he tied me earlier.
I lean down to press a kiss to his jawline. Then, with one smooth motion, I pull down his boxers and toss them aside, leaving Jamie completely bare beneath me. I take a moment to survey my canvas: broad, sculpted shoulders; lean muscles that ripple ever so slightly as he adjusts beneath me; and taut abs leading down to... well, yes.
“See anything you like?” Jamie quips from beneath his blindfold.
“Aye, though you’ll look even better once I’m finished with you.”
Picking up a fresh brush, I decide to have a bit of fun before starting properly. Without warning, I trail the bristles ever so lightly across a very sensitive spot: his balls. It’s more of a tickle than anything else—scarcely there at all—but the effect is immediate and hilarious.
Jamie lets out the most undignified squawk I’ve ever heard—which sends me into fits of giggles—and jerks against his restraints, hips twitching away from the offending brush.
“What the bloody hell was that?”
“What?” I ask innocently. “You painted me down there.”
“Aye, but that was different!” he protests, squirming when I flick the brush against him again for good measure. “There are rules! You can’t start there! That’s cheating!”
“Oh? Well, I just wanted to check something, and... aye, it seems I’m not the only one who’s ticklish. You’ve gone all squirmy.”
“Lass,” he warns in a tone that would probably be intimidating if he wasn’t currently tied up and blushing furiously beneath that blindfold.
Deciding not to push my luck (too much), I leave his balls alone. For now. But oh, don’t you worry, lads—I’ll be back. Like a villain in an action film, I’m already planning my triumphant return.
I dip the brush into one of the pots of paint instead—a deep blue. I hover it above Jamie’s chest in preparation for stroke number one, but before I can begin my masterpiece, there’s a loud knock at the door.
“Don’t come in!” we both shout at exactly the same time—my voice high-pitched with panic while Jamie sounds more irritated than anything else.
The awkward silence that follows makes me want to dive under the duvet and never come out.
“Oh... okay,” Da eventually says from the other side of the door. “Well, when you’re decent, could the two of you come downstairs? I’d like to have a chat.”
As his footsteps fade away, I lay a hand on Jamie’s chest. “Sorry. I’m too old to still be living with my da.”
Jamie lets out a sigh but manages a brave smile. “It’s all right. Trust me, I know all too well what living with family is like. Anyway, I suppose you’d better untie me.”
“Aye, I suppose I should.” And yet ... I’ve already dipped my brush into the paint. Seems a shame to waste it, doesn’t? So I quickly scrawl my signature. On his cock.
It twitches as I do so, and Jamie takes in a sharp breath, which is followed by a low, rumbling laugh—a sound somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
When I remove his blindfold and he sees what I’ve done—signed my name on that —I expect him to crack up or come up with some cheeky remark. But instead? He looks at me like I’ve just given him the greatest gift in the world.
To have my name. On his cock.
Men are so bloody weird sometimes. Like, now you show me your emotions?
“I hope we’re clear that there are to be no more accidental kilt flashes.” I point a warning finger at him. “Because next time, I’ll skip the paint and get my name tattooed down there. So everyone will always know you’re mine.”
Jamie winces but then breaks into a wicked grin. With a casual shrug, he says, “So long as you put wee hearts over the i ’s, I’m game.”
After cleaning up and throwing on some clothes, Jamie and I head downstairs. The pub is empty, save for Da and Elspeth, who sit together at one of the tables near the fireplace. Jamie and I exchange a puzzled look. What is she doing here?
“Sit down, you two,” Da says, gesturing for us to take the chairs opposite him and Elspeth. We do.
Da clears his throat. “Well... it’s clear the two of you have feelings for one another.”
For one horrifying moment, I think he might try to give us the talk . Which would be ridiculous at my age... but also exactly the kind of thing Da would do.
Mercifully, however, he steers the conversation in a different direction. “And I know you’ve been worried about how running competing businesses might affect things between you.”
Oh, thank God. Work talk—I can handle work talk.
“I thought perhaps,” Da says, his tone measured, “the four of us could have a conversation about it. Maybe come up with a solution.”
“Right...” Jamie says slowly. “But, Elspeth, as lovely as it is to see you—as always—can I ask what you’re doing here?”
Elspeth smiles knowingly and folds her hands on the table. “The two of you have been under the impression that being business rivals means romance is off the table.” Her eyes twinkle as though she’s enjoying our befuddlement far too much. “I’d say you’re starting to realise how ridiculous that notion is, but in case you need further convincing, Bryce and I thought we’d show you it’s perfectly doable.”
“Eh?” Jamie says.
“Aye, care to explain?” I say. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“Well, work at the Bannock Hotel, and Bryce works here at the Pheasant, yet we manage just fine. So why can’t the two of you?”
A silence falls over the table.
Wait . . .
“Da?” I gape at him.
He clears his throat again (a common theme when he’s nervous) and reaches out to take Elspeth’s hand in his. “Aye, well, we’ve been seeing each other for a wee while now.”
“How long is a wee while?”
“Three months,” Elspeth says.
I blink. Once, twice—and then sputter incredulously. “Three months? And you didn’t think to mention this earlier, Da?”
He shifts awkwardly in his chair. “I wanted to be sure it was serious first. And... well, I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to take your maw’s place.”
A flicker of tenderness rises in my chest. Bless him. “Seriously, Da, I’m twenty-seven! I know you loved Maw with all your heart, but she’s been gone for a long, long time now. And, well, I like the idea of you having company, of not getting lonely.”
Da’s eyes search mine, “So... you’re not upset?”
“Not in the slightest.” I give them both an earnest smile. “I think it’s wonderful.”
Da and Elspeth both light up with matching smiles, while Jamie’s hand finds mine under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Well,” Jamie interrupts with a cheeky grin aimed squarely at Elspeth. “I had my suspicions something was going on between you two, but I didn’t realise it was a full-blown relationship.”
Elspeth’s eyes twinkle mischievously and she glances at Da. “To tell the truth, it’s been rather thrilling, meeting up in secret. Not an easy thing to do in a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Sneaking around teenagers.” She winks playfully.
Da groans good-naturedly but doesn’t deny it, and honestly? Watching these two beam at each other does weird things to my heart. It suits them .
“There’s something else,” Da says, fixing his eyes on me once again. “With my health the way it is, I’ve been thinking it might be time I semi-retired. I’m not talking about giving up the Pheasant altogether, mind—just gradually transitioning more responsibility over to you.”
My heart skips. This is what I’ve wanted, for both me and Da. It’s time he slowed down a bit, and I wouldn’t mind having more of a say around here.
Jamie gives my hand another squeeze.
“Thanks, Da,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot. More than I can say. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Da nods, just the once, his expression steady but his eyes glistening ever so slightly. It’s not like him to show emotion, but I see it there now.
He glances between me and Jamie, his brows lifting slightly. “Now, the future is for the two of you to decide, of course. I’ve no intention of telling you how to live your lives or manage your businesses. That being said, I do wonder if there might be something to be gained by the two businesses working together instead of competing against each other.”
Jamie tilts his head, curiosity written all over his face. “Go on.”
“Think about it,” Da says. “The three places—an outdoor space, a small cosy indoor space, and a rowdy, fun pub—each offers something unique. They don’t have to work against each other. I’m just saying, there might be a way of teaming up. Something to think about anyway.”
I turn fully towards Jamie, searching his face for some clue as to what he’s thinking. “Do you think that could work?” I ask softly.
He looks at me then—really looks—and that slow, devastating smile spreads across his face. The one that makes my insides do somersaults and is utterly my undoing every time.
“Aye,” he says simply, his voice low but certain. “I do.”
Something inside me ignites, excitement bubbling to life in my chest.
“There’s plenty to consider,” Da chimes in, ever the voice of reason. “And no shortage of details to sort through. But there could be real benefits to pulling together.”
“Well, then,” I say, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Let’s schedule a meeting with Emily and Lewis. The six of us can sit down together and see what we can come up with.”
Da gives me an approving nod, while Elspeth beams happily.
“One last thing,” my father adds. “Maisie, you won’t want to be living with your old man forever.”
I frown. “Is this your way of kicking me out?”
“Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. You see, if I’m going to be semi-retiring, I wouldn’t mind a bit of peace and quiet on the days I’m not working. But in the flat upstairs, you can always hear the hubbub of conversation in the Pheasant. Don’t get me wrong, even when I eventually fully retire, I’ll be returning regularly here for a drink. This place will always hold a special place in my heart. But it’d be nice to get some quiet too, and that’s something I’d never be able to get upstairs.”
Da pauses, and Elspeth gives him an encouraging nod.
“Well, the thing is... we’ve been talking, Elspeth and I. She has a lovely wee flat nearby, and she’s asked me if I’d like to move in with her.”
“Bloody hell, isn’t that a bit... fast?” Jamie says.
Da and Elspeth both chuckle.
“Bryce and I aren’t exactly in our first flush of youth,” Elspeth says. “At my age, I’m more than ready to grab at a chance for happiness.”
I lean back, processing everything. Da’s health issues have been weighing heavily on my mind, but knowing that he’ll have Elspeth looking after him too... that makes me feel better. A lot better.
And I can’t deny that having the flat upstairs to myself will be a nice change... though maybe I don’t fancy being entirely alone up there.
I glance at Jamie, and he shoots me a cheeky wink. I’m sure he’s thinking what I’m thinking: no more random interruptions during future painting sessions, or whatever other “creative pursuits” we decide to explore. That might be quite nice.