Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Katie
What the hell am I doing?
How the hell did this happen?
The restaurant he booked is small, low-lit, intimate. This feels like a date, but it can’t be. This beautiful man in front of me is young enough to be my son. I must be reading this all wrong… but the way he looks at me says otherwise.
‘Why are you acting like a whore?’ the devil on my shoulder hisses. I close my eyes for a second, blocking her out.
Lance is in full flow, talking about his time in the army.
He’s animated and passionate, full of witty stories about his comrades and all their escapades.
His housemate, Dog, sounds like an entertaining menace who keeps him on his toes.
They’ve traveled the world together and had each other’s backs for years.
“So, tell me about your daughter.”
He gives me the most spectacular smile. The love pours from him before he even opens his mouth.
“Hannah’s my world. She’s sassy and fun. I’m sure she’s going to give me gray hairs in a few years. An absolute firecracker.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “She’s struggling with my separation at the moment. She doesn’t like the idea of living between two homes.”
“And you don’t think you’ll be able to save your marriage?
” I try not to sound hopeful; I have no right to sound hopeful.
We’re friends and nothing more. This man is the first person I’ve clicked with since I moved here, and I can’t be stupid enough to jeopardize his friendship because I think he’s hot.
He shakes his head. “No, Ainsley’s moved Hamish into the house. To be honest, I think they’ve been together a long time. Possibly the whole time we were married. I can’t really blame her. Me being away for months at a time... a woman has needs, you know.”
“Don’t you bloody dare,” I snap. He startles at my venom. “Did you ever cheat on her?”
“No, but...”
“Exactly, Lance. Don’t you ever make excuses for her behavior. Men have needs too, and you managed to stay faithful. Kept your snake in your pants.”
He bursts out laughing. “Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me and winks. “No excuses. She’s a cheating, lying bitch.”
I smile and blow a kiss. He pretends to catch it and press it to his lips. The gesture is stupidly intimate and, for a heartbeat, I want my mouth on his for real. But I can’t.
What must we look like? A mother and son out for dinner, acting inappropriately. My stomach churns at the thought.
The bottle of wine is empty. I’ve done most of the damage. Lance has stuck to one glass because he’s driving. We’ve talked, laughed, and somehow lost hours.
Conversation with him is easy. He’s non-judgmental and actually listens. A trait I’ve never experienced in a man. Knobscratcher never listened to me about anything.
Grudgingly I say, “I better get home. The animals need to be fed. I’ve had a wonderful evening, Lance. It’s been the most fun I’ve had since I arrived in Aviemore.”
He signals to the waiter for the bill, and I reach for my bag.
“No, Katie, this is my treat. I invited you.” I shake my head and slide open the zip. “I’m serious, Katie, this is on me. You can get the next one.”
“The next one?” My eyebrow lifts, and he flashes me that stunning smile.
“Hell yeah. And it’s going be a five-star extravaganza. I hope you have a high limit credit card,” he says with a wink.
He pays, and we stroll out to his car, close but not touching. I’m desperate to hold his hand, but know how it would look. This isn’t a date; I repeat it like a mantra.
He opens my door like a gentleman, then slides in his own side.
The air hums as we drive back to my house, the silence loaded with something I can’t touch.
Being in such close proximity to him is highly arousing—my body is begging me to make a move. I need sex. It’s been a long time.
And I want this man to scratch my itch.
Visions of him on me and in me flicker behind my eyelids. I bet he’s amazing in bed. All strong and domineering, just the way I like it.
We pull up at the little cottage.
“Do you want any help with the animals?” His eyes lift to mine. “It’s dark out, and I’d rather help you then see you inside safe before I leave.”
I go to protest, but stop. Lance is honorable. I don’t want to offend him. Plus, it’s more time together. A lame excuse to not let him go home.
“Pigs first?” I say.
We collect their feed from the barn and head over to the sty. It’s dark, so we use our phones as torches. I clamber over the low stone wall into the pen. The pigs are settled, but start snorting at the intrusion.
Lance passes me the bucket of feed, and I turn to fill the trough. The feeder is closer than I realize. My foot catches it, and I trip in spectacular fashion. Feed flies into the air, and the pig I smack into lets out an almighty shriek.
“Shit, Katie. Are you okay?” Lance’s alarmed voice cuts through the chaos.
I land headfirst in the muck.
I try to push myself up only to be charged again by an irate pig on the rampage for food. The light sweeps around the stall as Lance tries to locate my remains. My phone’s nowhere to be seen. No doubt buried in the shit.
“Katie,” he shouts, “tell me you’re fucking okay. The pig hasn’t eaten you, has it?”
I snort and sit up. The gate creaks open, and his footsteps squelch toward me. Strong hands slide under my arms, lifting me back to my feet. Twice now I’ve gone arse over tit in front of him. My dignity is fucked.
Without a word, Lance finishes the outside chores while I sit on the bench at the barn. My hands sting from fresh scratches, and I stink of pig shit.
“You must think I’m a right idiot,” I shout to him as he works.
“Well, Katie, you certainly make my days more interesting. Never rescued a woman from a pigsty before. Or a burn. First time for everything, I suppose.”
I watch as he moves, lifting buckets of water like they weigh nothing. For a big man, he’s so quiet.
“How do you move so silently? You’re not exactly built like a ballerina.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Crawling around war zones with the enemy only meters away makes you quiet. Never fancied getting my brains blown out, so I worked hard on making sure these size fourteens,” he gestures to his feet, “were as quiet as mice.”
Size fourteen, hmm. I bet he’s hung like a horse.
Bloody hell, I tell myself, get your mind out of the gutter.
Back in the house, Lance flicks the kettle on. I excuse myself to take a shower.
“I’m sure you’ll want a cuppa when you get cleaned up,” he says. “I better be off.”
Our eyes meet, and I nod. “Okay. Thanks for a lovely night and your help with the animals.”
Words hang between us, unsaid.
Let him leave. It’s the right thing to do. He’s too young for you. He’s just a friend.
He turns for the door; I climb the stairs to the bathroom.
Stripping off, I toss my clothes into the wash basket. The smell hits like a punch. I crank the tap, and steam rises within seconds. I love my showers hot enough to peel skin.
Under the water, I close my eyes and let myself drift off. Tonight’s events run through my mind. Lance was a gentleman, flirty but not pushy, genuinely interested. He listened. It was refreshing.
He’s gorgeous. Strong. Masculine. Taut muscles defined under his shirt. I imagine his arms around me, his lips on my neck.
Lost in my dirty thoughts, my hand slides between my legs. I circle my clit; the other hand, slick with soap, moves over my breasts. My nipples harden under my touch. Arousal throbs through me, two fingers working inside, thumb pressing my clit.
In my head, it’s his hands. His mouth. All him. It shouldn’t be, but it is. There’s no harm in having a fantasy, I tell myself.
My orgasm builds fast. My hand moves quicker. The pleasure sharpens, and I break, coming hard, leaving me shaking. Crumpled under the spray—on my knees.
A girl can dream.
Dressed in my fluffy pink dressing gown and slippers, I pad downstairs in search of tea before bed. My hair is wrapped in a towel, my tablet in my hand as I scroll, trying to distract myself.
“Took your time,” the deep voice drawls as I hit the bottom step.
My head snaps up.
“Lance, I thought you’d gone home.” My eyes drop to my awful attire. My cheeks burn. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m here because I’m thirsty.”
I blink. “Thirsty? There’s water in the fridge.”
A slow, sinful smile spreads across his face. “That’s not the kind of drink I mean.” My stomach flips. “I was leaving, but something pulled me back. You’re the most amazing woman. Sexy as fuck. I couldn’t tear myself away.”
Two huge strides and he’s in front of me, strong hands cradling my face. Then his mouth is on mine, hungry. His tongue steals my breath. And his cock leaves no doubt about why he’s here.
He pulls back, his eyes roaming over me, and my skin tingles in their path. One finger hooks my robe belt and tugs. It falls open, exposing my naked body. Every curve, every bump, unshielded. I grab the edges of my robe, but his fingers stop over mine. We pause, standing, him holding it open.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, slipping the robe off my shoulders. It falls to the floor in a pool of pink fluff.
He cups my breasts, and my nipples harden against his palms. I’m painfully aware of the contrast in our bodies. He’s ripped and hard, while I’m soft and full. I reach for his shirt buttons, but he seizes my fingers again.
“No, I want to enjoy the view first. You’re all woman.” He kisses my cheek, then leads me upstairs.
He sets his phone on top of my chest of drawers. For a second, I wonder if he’s changing his mind.
“Do you want me, Katie?” he asks quietly. “Will you let me enjoy you tonight?”
I nod, nerves dancing in my belly. How on earth does this man find me attractive, with my extra rolls and cellulite? But when will I ever get the chance again? This feels like an opportunity not to be missed. To be caressed by him.
He unbuttons his shirt, each one revealing more golden skin. Ripped abs run down his torso, leading to the waistband of his pants. He removes his shoes and socks, then steps close to the bed.
I reach for his belt, release the catch, and pop his fly. He shoves his pants down. I’m eye level with his cock, thick and hard, gloriously unashamed. I swallow, then run my tongue over the head. He groans, his fingers twisting in my hair.
I take him in my mouth, slow and deep. His grip tightens as he rocks his hips. He’s big; it nudges the back of my throat. I breathe through my nose and try to relax my jaw. His thrusts speed up as he gets closer. With a shudder, he comes, hot and thick on my tongue.
I lick my lips and look up. “Did you enjoy that?” I purr.
“Enough to shoot my load in two seconds. It’s been a while. And you’re fucking electric.”
He arches a brow before flipping me onto all fours and easing my legs apart with his knee. Fingers trail over my ass, between my legs, then find my entrance. He teases until I squirm, then pushes two inside.
“Hell, you feel perfect,” he groans, pumping slowly until my knees buckle.
His hands grab my hips, pulling me back up. One claiming stroke, that’s all it takes, and he’s inside. My body locked onto his. Fuck, he’s thick, but my body yields. He pushes deeper.
I breathe through the stretch, everything aching as he moves. Long, deep thrusts that steal every coherent thought. Slick and wet, each rock is more intense than the last. It’s been years, but sex has never been like this. So damn deliciously agonizing.
We find our rhythm, pushing back against each other, our gasps mingling with wet arousal.
I build first, sharp again, tight. My pussy clamps around him, my orgasm rolling through me.
My arms give way, and I drop to the mattress.
He follows, anchoring me between him and the bed, thrusting harder. Giving me no mercy.
Then the jerk. His frame tenses, and he roars. Pouring himself into me like no man has done before. Like he truly wanted to. Holding me hard against him until he’s empty.
Lance eases out, then scoops me up. He lays me in the bed before sliding in beside me. His arms wrap around my middle, and he nestles into my back. I’m caged in muscle and warmth, his heartbeat a steady reminder that he’s here.
I drift off into a dreamless sleep. Feeling safer than I have in years.