23
23
Juniper
Isle of Skye Guidebook
The Fairy Pools
Distance: 8km.
Time: 3 hrs.
Terrain: Rough moorland path.
Narrow bridges between pools.
Undulating hills.
Visitors can enjoy the stunning walk bordered with flowering heather and peat.
Follow the crystal-clear burn in the shadow of the Cullin mountains.
Pause to explore the many enchanting pools and waterfalls, those who feel brave enough can even enter the icy water.
“You didn’t say we’d be hiking.” The stupid trainers I’d chosen, built purely for aesthetic purposes, slipped on flat rock, tossing my weight.
Callum caught my elbow, steadying me before we continued.
“We can still see the car.”
I glanced back over my shoulder and …
yep, there it was. “Only because it’s on a hill,” I shot back, manoeuvring slowly down the steep decline.
Well, I was slow. Macabe appeared to be floating; even with his hiking boots partially laced, he strolled down the hill like he walked on water.
“Forget about the hike for a minute and look at all of this.” He drew us to a stop, gesturing with both hands to the mountain range in the distance, their vast snowy peaks cutting into the crisp sky like something out of a Lord of the Rings movie.
This was the Cullin mountain range , or so he’d told me in the car after narrowly avoiding a head-on collision at the discovery of my criminal lack of knowledge of the land I was raised in.
Or something to that effect.
I’d been too distracted by the stretch of his cable-knit jumper over his wide shoulders.
“It’s nice, I guess.” I kept my tone bored, just to piss him off, but it was an effort to disguise my wonder.
Off the narrow stone pathway, water trickled in narrow burns, dancing and diving where it cut like glass through the primaeval rock, branching off like a sea of spiderwebs until the streams culminated in dozens of small waterfalls, spilling over into shallow turquoise pools.
Boulders coated in moss of the brightest green lined the pathway, so large they could only have been placed there by giants.
Callum, obviously seeing straight through my disinterest, said, “I felt overwhelmed on my first visit, too.”
I understood now why this place was named the fairy pools.
We’d ventured no more than ten minutes from the car, and I felt as though I’d tripped and fallen into another world.
How had I sent so many tourists here and never visited myself?
“There’s an old legend that goes with this land,” Callum started, his voice holding the deep baritone of a natural-born storyteller.
“The story says this is the site of one of Scotland’s bloodiest battles, Coire na Creiche, between the MacLeods of Dunvegan and the MacDonalds of Sleat.” He turned back at a particularly steep step to take hold of my hand and help me down.
I could have told him my legs were almost as long as his were.
Could have but didn’t.
And when he kept our fingers loosely tangled, I didn’t object to that either.
“What did they go to war over?”
“Why does anyone go to war? Money, land, resources. A woman, most likely.” He tapped his shoulder against mine.
“Anyway, it was the MacDonalds who eventually claimed the victory after many days of battle so bloody it’s said the pools ran red with it. So much death and destruction to the land, they vowed it could never be repeated again. True to their word, it was the last clan war of Skye.”
Letting the fingers of my free hand dance over the long grass, it was impossible to imagine this peaceful place as Callum described it.
“That’s a good story.”
“I thought you’d like it, bloodthirsty demon.”
I flashed my teeth and he laughed.
“Did you like being in the army?” All ease disappeared and it was my turn to right him as he actually stumbled.
“I’m sorry, you don’t need to—”
“No. It’s fine, it took me by surprise, that’s all. People are always curious about my time overseas but no one ever asks how I felt about it.”
I lapsed into silence, giving him room to change the subject.
I should have known Callum wouldn’t shy away.
“I hated it.”
“What part?”
“All of it. The training, the deployment, the things I saw that will haunt me for the rest of my life.” His voice held more bitterness than I ever thought him capable of.
“For as long as I can remember my mum called me her sensitive wee boy. I don’t think I was more sensitive than any other, but I was drawn to art, like my mum, and loved animals. And she nurtured that side of me. But the older I got, the more obvious it became that he … he hated all the parts of me she loved.” I didn’t need to ask who he was.
“He wanted his boys to be men and as the oldest it was up to me to set an example. I grew to hate that nickname and the gentler parts of myself … until I found myself halfway around the world, just another body in a war I couldn’t stand, holding my friends – too young to truly understand what they’d signed up for – as they died. Doing what I could to aid innocent civilians we were supposed to be helping, and all I could think was: if this was living up to my father’s expectations,” he shook his head roughly, emotion clogging his voice, “I wanted no part in it.”
Something sharp lodged in my throat.
I couldn’t talk around it.
So I squeezed his fingers.
He squeezed right back, bringing his other hand around to cover my knuckles, holding on like I was a lifeline.
I’d never been that for anyone .
For my entire relationship with Alistair, he’d been the epitome of a stiff upper lip.
Always in control. Rarely brought his work home with him.
Never once needed to lean on me.
It was for that alone I said, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
He glanced at me as we walked.
“What?”
“You and me. I always thought we were complete opposites, when in truth – it’s like looking in a mirror. At a much more put-together version of myself, but—” I felt my cheeks heat, realising I was completely jumbling this.
“All I mean is, I get it. Trying to live up to expectations.”
He said nothing for a long moment.
“Whose?”
“Everyone’s.” The word was barely audible over the rush of water, and yet it felt like I’d stood atop a cliff and screamed it.
“Have you ever noticed the first thing new parents always say is how they’d never known real love until the moment they held their child in their arms? Well, my birth parents never loved me.” I shrugged as though the knowledge hadn’t torn me to shreds over and over.
“I failed at the very first test. I guess, I’ve been playing catch-up ever since.”
“What test?” Good bloody question .
When it became apparent I wouldn’t answer he asked another.
“Why don’t you call Fiona Mum?” Of all the things he might say, I didn’t expect that.
I kicked a stone. “She didn’t ask me to.”
“You think she wouldn’t want you to?”
“No … I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. But it’s always been easier to keep that separation. Just in case …” I trailed off, unsure how to give voice to my worst fear.
“I was seven years old the first time I met Fiona and Alexander, living with a foster family near Inverness that had three young children of their own. I remember Fiona’s voice trembling as she handed me this stuffed rabbit I was too old for and said, ‘Hi Juniper, you’re going to come and live with us if that’s all right?’ And I asked, ‘How long am I staying?’”
His expression splintered and I knew he understood.
“The people who are meant to be in your life won’t reject you for not being perfect, Juniper. If they do, they were never your people.”
“Knowing that doesn’t take away the fear.” I lived in perpetual fear.
Curled up and made a comfy little home out of it.
“Give it a few weeks and you’ll be sick of me, too.”
“That’s impossible.” He drew me to a stop, fierce determination lining his face.
“You remember what I told you the other day, about my feelings for you?” Heart thundering, I nodded.
“I’m not going to push you to answer with everything going on but I need you to know – I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through my life these past few years. The only bright spots in my day were you … I’d see that smirk and something dormant inside me sparked back to life, daring me to try and win another one.”
Pausing on the path, he tenderly clutched my face between his big hands.
“At the risk of sounding disgustingly cheesy, sweetheart, but even if I did grow tired of you? So what? You say a giant fuck you and move that gorgeous arse on to something better. Juniper Ross doesn’t beg for anyone’s love.”
His forehead fell to mine.
“I also know those words mean nothing if you can’t see it. You need to see yourself and advocate for yourself, only then will you not give a shit when someone who isn’t worth an ounce of the breath in your lungs decides they don’t want to be in your life.”
His words made my heart pound.
“Advocate for myself like you do?” I said and he squinted, trying not to laugh.
“You take responsibility for everyone around you, like it’s your job to put everyone first … including me.” I see straight through your bullshit , I said silently, like you see through mine.
His smile was so slight, so unlike his Community Ken smile, I felt like I’d earned it.
“We can be a work in progress together.”
I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I had to admit, it sounded nice.
“I think I might like you, Macabe.”
Forehead still pressed to mine, he laughed again.
“Need a sick bag?”
I punched his shoulder.
“And just like that, I’m cured.”
Slinging an arm around my shoulders, he tucked me close, steering me down the path, “No takebacks, sweetheart. You. Like. Me.”
I did .
It was a huge fucking problem.
* * *
“I’m not getting in.”
“Yes, you are.”
Standing on a flat rock, I shivered and tucked my coat more tightly around me, the two-piece I’d grabbed suddenly feeling like a stupid idea.
“The water looks dirty.” The clear blue waves chose that moment to lap over my bare toes, calling me a liar.
“Harpy, my balls are trying to claw their way back inside my body, so do us both a favour and get that sweet arse in here.” Standing at waist height in the pool, Callum slapped the water’s surface to punctuate his point.
The freezing wind did a good job at distracting me from the heat his shirtless form inspired.
Not to pass up an opportunity, my eyes flicked down his chest, to those ridiculous blue swim shorts and the tiny, tiny bananas.
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”
Shit.
I hated when he used that tone, all demanding but hopeful, like this was something he needed to share with me.
“Fine.” I wrenched down the zip of my coat.
“Don’t look at me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I waited until he placed a hand over his eyes, took a single second to note the way the mirrored surface reflected Callum’s stacked abs, admiring all twelve of them, and threw my coat over the closest rock with the rest of my clothes.
At the first curl of water around my ankle, I hissed.
Callum’s fingers split and he let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“You said you wouldn’t look!”
“I lied.” His hot gaze roamed.
“Are you trying to kill me? Who wears that for wild swimming?”
The simple but stringy black bikini left very little to the imagination.
“It’s the only suit I have.” He only grunted and I stepped in up to my calves, arms curling to conceal my small chest. “It’s freezing.”
“Ten more steps and I’ll warm you up.” He said it like the sweetest threat and damn it, I quickened my pace, cutting through the water until I was close enough to see my reflection in his eyes.
“Now what?” My teeth chattered.
“Whatever you want, that’s the beauty of this place.” He held his nose and ducked beneath the surface, disappearing for a heartbeat before his hand curled around my ankle and tugged.
Losing my footing, I screamed, my entire body jerking from the cold as water surged over my head.
Bubbles pouring from between my lips, I struck out at the first patch of skin I could find—his ribs—and resurfaced to the sound of boyish laughter.
It dragged me back eight years to a night we shared pizza on Alistair’s sofa and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at the most carefree man I’d ever met.
I pushed matted hair from my face.
“I hate you.”
He traced a thumb along my lower lip.
“Your nipples say otherwise, sweetheart.” His attention consumed by the action, he pulled my lip down and watched it bounce back into place.
It was so erotic, a little moan escaped me, and his eyes shot to mine, confirming my arousal.
“I’m going to kiss you now, all right?”
“Yes.” The word was a whimper.
There was no slow build-up.
No customary graze of noses before the tentative learning of lips.
Seizing my cheeks, Callum’s mouth enveloped mine, his fresh stubble scratching exquisitely over my skin.
Wet skin slid together, my legs brushed his, lips parting to drag his tongue into my mouth, sucking on it to savour the final remnants of his laughter.
“ Fuck ,” he murmured into my mouth, then dove in for another, kissing me as though he wanted to tattoo the taste of me onto his lips.
“This isn’t why I brought you here.”
“No?”
“ No .” He squeezed my waist. “I brought you to cheer you up.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“Yeah?” Shit , if that smile wasn’t hopeful.
I nodded and his nose ran down the side of mine, ending in another toe-curling kiss, punctuated by his moan in my mouth.
“I’ll never get enough of this.”
My arms wound around his neck, fingers fisting his hair as I said, “Good, I don’t want you to.” Beneath the water, his hands circled my thighs, hoisting them up and around his waist. And then we were moving, slicing through the water until my back met stone.
A rushing sound filled my ears, and I had just enough of my senses left to register that he’d partially hidden us behind the waterfall, white foam rippling about our waists.
“ Juniper .” He pulled back, eyes darting between my face and the slow, almost imperceptible roll of our hips.
He shook his head, trying to snap himself free of the frenzy.
“Don’t stop,” I begged him, tugging on his hair, addicted to the sensation of his thick cock against my thigh.
A hand left my hip, reverently coasting over my stomach to settle beneath my breast. “So soft … I fucking love your skin, I’ve imagined telling you so many times.”
“Tell me now.”
He explored further, starting at the point of my chin, dragging down my throat to the little hollow there.
“Your skin is perfect. Softer than silk. And you smell fucking incredible, it’s all I can think about when I’m near you.” The words were half slurred as he fiddled with the little strap tied behind my neck.
“Undo it,” I begged, head falling back against the stone.
“Don’t fucking tempt me, not here.” He cursed into my neck, inhaling deeply then following it up with an open-mouth kiss, his thumb brushing my nipple over the fabric.
“Please.” The embarrassing plea tore from me as my hips snapped against his.
But it was his turn to moan, his forehead falling against mine.
“Jesus … Is that what I think it is?” Too lost in the sensation, I had no idea what he was talking about until his nose brushed over the painfully tight bud.
My breath caught and he slid the triangles to the side, exposing me completely.
Then he just stared at me.
His expression somewhere between awed and tortured.
I knew what he was seeing.
Two delicate gold bars pierced my nipples, a dainty little diamond on each end.
“ Fucking hell .” His free hand scrubbed over his jaw.
“When?”
I knew what he meant.
“A few months after I moved back to Skye.” I’d cut my hair short, but the transformation hadn’t felt like enough.
“Can I touch them?”
“You better.”
Air punched from my lungs as the rough pad of his finger traced one bar, then the next.
His eyes – pupils swallowing the blue entirely – fixed on my face, utterly obsessed with my every breath and groan.
“You’re so beautiful … I can barely stand it.” His hand trembled, thumb running along the crease where my breast met my ribs, where a string of flowers marked my skin.
“And this?”
It took me a moment to answer, “That one is older … Six or seven years.” Alistair had accompanied me to the tattoo shop, wanting to hold my hand though I was an old pro at that point.
Callum exhaled, his expression was like nothing I’d ever seen on him.
Serious. Filled with intent.
And then his tongue was there, brushing over the raised peak in a burning sweep, pulling the bar into his mouth.
“Are they sensitive?” he husked against my skin.
“ Yes .” My eyes squeezed shut.
“I swear to god, sweetheart, the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life. Can I put my fingers in you?”
I nodded frantically, hips rolling on their own volition.
How did he always know the exact right thing to say?
The exact way I was feeling?
Men had told me I was hot before …
in every variation a woman could think of.
But not a single one had looked at me like Callum while saying it.
Like I was a goddess worthy of worship.
As though the words had lived on the tip of his tongue all these years and finally speaking them aloud was the ultimate relief.
“I need you higher,” he grunted, biceps curling beneath my arse.
Dazed, I was slow to tuck my thighs at his ribs, bracing my back against the wall while he licked up my sternum.
“So perfect.”
Why was he the only one doing the touching?
Reaching around my thigh, I had to strain to palm his incredible length through his shorts.
I managed a single glide of my hand before he nudged me away.
“Shit! No … no. You can’t do that.” He sounded so lust-drunk, I couldn’t believe he didn’t want it.
“We’re just … fuck , we’re not having sex, we’re just fooling around.”
“This seems very one-sided.”
His hand found the band below my belly button and traced down over the fabric.
“I’ll go off the second you touch me, sweetheart.”
My answer was cut off by his appreciative, rumbling groan when his thumb brushed my tattoo again.
“Lucky,” he murmured, those clever fingers prickling like electricity over my inner thigh, then lower.
I whimpered, high and loud at the first stroke of my clit.
“Touch me properly.” I wanted him to pull my hair and hold me down until I screamed.
“ No . Today we’re doing this soft and sweet,” he answered, gifting me with a torturous back and forth slide over the wet fabric.
I bowed into the touch, pleasure skittering up my spine.
“Look at me, Juniper, I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, I want your eyes when you come on my fingers.”
The words caught on something ragged in my chest, not smoothing, but soothing.
A gentle balm to an old wound.
He’d thought of me. For years he’d thought of me.
My lids cracked and I watched him, eyes all over me, damp hair falling across his forehead.
He looked like a dream, blocking out the morning sun with his wide shoulders, his rock-hard length rolling against my thigh as his finger slipped beneath the bikini bottoms and inside me.
I bucked.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my ear, drawing a slow circle around me before adding a second finger.
Pressing deep and withdrawing at a slow, maddening pace.
My body came alive beneath his, sensation flooding me until I was writhing, trapped between him and the stone.
“I’m … I’m close,” I gasped less than a minute later.
My words were laced with panic as the sensation snuck up on me.
“ Fuck , that’s it … that’s it.” His attention was wrapped to the place between my thighs where I moved on him.
“Trust me, sweetheart. I’ve got you, I’ll give you whatever you need.”
It should have taken an age for me to come this way, with nothing more than his mouth on my breast, his two fingers only teasing.
But the sensation of water hitting every point of my sensitive skin had me exploding with small jerks and pealing moans, my body shuddering over and over as he continued to stroke me.
I couldn’t be sure if I came more than once, one orgasm simply rolling into another and another, or if whatever magic he crafted with his fingers suspended time, holding me in that bliss until I was certain death waited on the other side of it.
When I finally collapsed against his chest, spent and panting, I asked the most stupid question to ever pass my lips.
“Do you need to come?” Of course he did, his teeth were gritted, his entire body trembling with the force of holding back.
He nodded desperately, hands opening and closing on my hips.
“Can I?”
Consumed with the need to see him lose control, I tore at the ties of his shorts.
“You said you think of me, show me how.”
With a barked curse, his urgent fingers joined mine and he swore again as we knotted the strings tighter.
“Fuck it.” He yanked the waistband down enough so only his gorgeous cock slid free, standing proud and hard against his stomach.
I didn’t even manage to drag my thumb across the tip before he snatched my hand away with a shudder.
The tips of his cheeks stained red and he shook his head, like his eagerness embarrassed him.
“I’m losing my mind. If I get inside you this is over, I’m not wasting our first fuck on this.”
“But I want to—”
“Not this time. I just want to look at you.” Scooping both of my hands in one of his, he held them above my head.
The other he curled over my breast, thumb flicking over the piercing until it was almost raw as he pressed between my spread thighs and lodged his cock against my clit.
“I’ve had a long time to think about it, have so many plans for our first time, sweetheart.” He rolled his hips, words sharpening into grunts.
“Every one includes fucking you so long and slow, you can’t remember your own name.”
Despite the desperate tremor to his voice, every slide of his body against mine was unhurried.
Measured. His mouth dropped open, leaving him slack-jawed as his attention pinged from my face to my breasts to my half-concealed pussy.
“Fuck … that feels unreal. All this time I knew you’d have the hottest little body, harpy. But you’re something else—” Unable to hold back my whimper, I arched my back, letting him see all of it.
“Keep your eyes on me and bite your lower lip, give me that pissed off expression that gets me off.”
I complied, glancing up at him with a little smirk.
His arms tensed around me.
“ Fuck , yes. Just like that,” he choked, pace faltering then picking up speed as he slid over my pussy again and again.
He was using my body to get himself off and it was the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.
I found myself moaning, thrusting every time he did, driving him higher and higher.
The fact I wasn’t even touching him only made me feel more powerful.
Control wore many faces – and I knew without a doubt I controlled every moment of this.
He looked like a man possessed, gasping and snarling, thrusting against my body like he owned it.
He’d gone from seeing to my every need to selfishly taking his.
“Juniper … Juniper. Fuck – can I come on your stomach?”
I nodded eagerly, barely hissing my agreement when he did exactly that.
He mouthed my name while he came.
Wide, glassy eyes finding mine, as though the pleasure took him by surprise and he needed to be sure I was right there with him.
And I knew then, this went far beyond fooling around.
This was the promise of him and me.
The promise of something more.
And though I didn’t quite know what that more looked like, I broke his hold to wrap my arms around his neck and held on for dear life.