Kilted Lover (5 page)

Why couldn’t Fletcher have as much sex appeal as Scott?

Because you can’t have it all, Les.

She and Scott obviously shared an intense physical attraction, but chances were they didn’t have anything else in common, dammit.

She washed her hands and left the small bathroom—er, head. What a strange name.

“Would you like to shower now?” Scott was drying the plates they’d used. “There’s soap, shampoo and clean towels.”

“That would be great. I would’ve helped clean up the dishes.”

“I took care of it.”

“Thanks.” Would he take care of her with the same efficiency?
Don’t think of that, Les.
“Um, I just realized, I don’t have any clean clothes to put on.”

Scott stared at her, his eyes growing dark again as if he might be imagining her naked.

“Do you have a T-shirt or something I could wear?” she prompted, since he didn’t offer.

“Oh. Yeah. But they’ll be way too big.” He disappeared through a doorway and returned a minute later with a giant T-shirt and pair of drawstring shorts.

“These will work. Thanks. I’ll try not to use all the hot water.” She rushed back into the bathroom.

***

Forget the hot water.
Scott needed a cold shower, slushy-ice cold, preferably outside in Siberia. He hadn’t been this horny in eons. Her sitting on his lap had done it, and the way she’d brushed her breasts against him in the galley. Not to mention the way she watched him while they ate, as if she wanted to nibble on him instead of the steak. He didn’t need the sex show next door, either. Then to find Leslie watching them through the window. If she didn’t have a boyfriend, he’d be all over her.

The shower water turned on, humming through the pipes. His imagination kicked in, conjuring an image of her naked, stepping beneath the warm spray in the tiny shower.

His erection had been at full mast for the past ten minutes, insistent, demanding—and thankfully, concealed behind his sporran.

He inhaled deeply, trying to block out the disturbing fantasies running through his mind—Leslie’s red hair and blue eyes, dark, in the candlelight. Her creamy skin flushed pink and hot from a warm shower. The imagery was so real, he almost felt the heated softness of her breast and her hard nipple against his lips. He would stroke his fingers between her legs and find her tight little pussy slick and hot for him.

He cursed and closed the window to block out the neighbors, then pressed a hand firmly over his rigid cock. That felt good, but not as fantastic as she would. “Down, boy.” Of course she already knew he’d had an erection in the car. And then she’d teased him about being a lady’s man and questioned whether he liked women.

Ha!

He loved playful, teasing, sexy women. Like her.

Damn! What I could do to her.

“I can’t think of that,” he muttered and forced himself to visualize something unappealing, like falling naked onto a hive of bees. He winced and paced.

But his hard-on remained persistent.

Guilt gnawed at him. His current predicament reminded him of what had happened with Isabel. She’d been engaged to Scott but another man had turned her head, a more sophisticated man who got a haircut once a week and wore only starched white shirts and the finest silk ties. Scott wasn’t the type to snatch a woman from her boyfriend. He knew exactly how Fletcher would feel, and it was hell.

Scott had to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Tomorrow, he’d call the Sheriff’s Department again, and then cruise around looking for the two men who’d tried to shoot them. And Leslie wasn’t coming along, no matter what. Maybe he and the deputies could set up some sort of sting that would convince the thieves to pursue him in his truck again. Of course they might have to get a female deputy to pose as Leslie. Then the cops could nab the guys.

And he would be out of this tight spot.

But he wanted to be in a tight spot.
Hers
. He glared at the kitchen cabinet where he’d stuffed the paper bags earlier. Paul had slipped two dozen condoms into the bottom of one of the grocery bags, shocking Scott and adding a new layer to his temptation.

“I’m going to kill him.” He’d made it clear to Paul he wasn’t getting involved with Leslie. Thank goodness she hadn’t seen the condoms. He started to take them out and hide them someplace better, but the sound of the bathroom door opening stopped him.

***

Thirty minutes later, Leslie sat on the small sofa in Scott’s baggy T-shirt and shorts, trying in vain to relax while he took a shower. Though the T-shirt was obviously clean and smelled of laundry detergent, it still held Scott’s luscious male scent. She pressed her nose against it and inhaled.
Mmm.

When the bathroom door opened, she jerked to attention.

Scott strode into the room wearing a pair of faded jeans and nothing else.

Oh, baby.

The first glimpse of his bare chest stunned her for a jaw-dropping moment. Large, well-defined muscles, prominent pecs, and massive shoulders, transformed his body into a work of art. His abs formed a legendary six-pack. And his arms with their sculpted biceps. Lord, he had gorgeous arms, but then, everything about the man was gorgeous. She could lick him all over like a gigantic, sugary lollipop.

She supposed caber-tossers had to have bodies like that to get the job done right.

Her gaze traveled down past his belly button, past the low-slung waist of his jeans to the scrumptiously large package nestled behind his fly.

“Les, which berth do you want?”

Whichever one you’re in.

She lifted her eyes to his and tried to beat down her lustful thoughts. “Um, are there two?”

“Yeah, there’s a big one in the stateroom. And there’s a twin-sized berth in this cabin.” He opened a door to a tiny compartment.

“I’ll take the twin bed. I don’t think you’d fit in it anyway.”

He propped his hands on his hips, and some of his muscles flexed and rippled. His incredibly wide shoulders tantalized her. “What are you saying? That I’m a big, clumsy giant?”

She cleared her throat. “You’re big, but I haven’t seen you being clumsy.”

He smiled.

And what a sexy smile it was. She was glad to see him relaxing a little. He’d been wound so tightly earlier, she’d worried he’d break a spring. Or at least strain a beautiful muscle.

She tried not to stare at his upper body as he drew nearer. That much granite-carved detail would surely hypnotize her, and she’d forget all about Fletcher.

“It’s too hot in here to wear a shirt, even with the air on. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Oops, she’d sounded too enthusiastic. Well, who could blame her for admiring his body? Obviously, he wanted her to.

“I closed the window because of, you know, our neighbors’ porno show.”

Jeez.
Did he have to remind her? She picked up the fishing magazine from the sofa, meaning to flip through it and pretend to read, but she fanned herself with it instead.

He padded into the galley on large, bare feet. Hmm, what would he think if she asked what size shoes he wore? She had always heard that a man’s feet and “package” were of similar proportions.

His wet hair brushed the upper part of his back and left glistening droplets of water clinging there.

Mmm, I’m thirsty.

Bad girl! She almost smacked herself.

“All the drinks wouldn’t fit into the fridge.” He bent, opened the cooler and stared in. “What something?”

Oh, my God, yes, I want something.

“Um, no thanks.” He had a cute ass, too. She recalled the neighbor and the grinding thrusts he was doing. What would Scott’s butt look like bare? Ten times better than the neighbor, she was sure.

She had to get away from him. He was too much temptation for her to handle right now. She had to be loyal and faithful to Fletcher. But she was only human, and never had she been so powerfully and sexually drawn to a man like she was to Scott.

“I’m kind of tired, so I think I’ll go to bed now if you don’t mind,” Leslie said, unsure whether she could stay in his presence a moment longer without pouncing on him. Especially if he made a move toward her.

“Oh.” Scott looked a bit disappointed. “Okay. Good night. Let me know if you need anything.”

Argh!
She needed something, all right. That was the problem.

***

When Leslie disappeared into the small bedroom and closed the door, Scott entered the stateroom. He removed his jeans, turned out the light and slid naked into the queen-sized bed. Energy flowed through him. Sexual energy. The way she’d stared at him gave him insane ideas. No woman had looked at him with such hunger in ages. But she was evidently determined not to do anything about it. Which was the way it had to be.

The condoms were still in the galley cabinet. He sat bolt upright. He had to get them before she found them by accident in the morning. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he clicked on the flashlight, then slid on his jeans and eased the door open.

In the galley, he placed the flashlight on the counter. After pulling the brown bag out, he removed the two long strips of condoms and returned the bag.

“Scott?” Leslie opened her door.

“Dammit,” he muttered and, while she was still out of sight, hurriedly crammed the condoms into the front pockets of his jeans. Thank God his jeans weren’t tight or they’d never have fit. He pushed the ends of the strips in just before she rounded the corner and turned on the light.

“It’s you. Whew!” Leslie’s hair was dry now and the curls tousled. He wanted to comb his fingers through them. “I thought someone had broken in.”

She looked damn hot in his huge T-shirt, and the shorts were gone this time. What was she wearing underneath? Nothing? His cock stiffened instantly.

Coming to his senses, he focused on her words. “No. No one broke in.” He was amazed he could speak at all.

“Thank goodness. With those thieves on the loose I guess I’m a bit jumpy.” She pressed a hand to her chest, and his attention drifted over her breasts. Their natural shape told him she didn’t have on a bra. She was either cold or….

Arousal lulled him, drugged him. His heart thumped and his cock grew harder by the second.

“You really are a true hero, you know,” she said, coming toward him. “You saved my life today. Thank you.” She tugged at his arm, reached up and kissed his cheek.

Desire burned through him. Before he could stop himself, he grasped her waist and pulled her close.

She inhaled a sharp breath, but air refused to enter his own lungs. Lust suffocated him.

With darkening eyes, she watched him, her face mere inches from his. Never in his memory had he craved a woman as badly as he craved her now. He searched her midnight blue eyes, memorized the slight part of her lips, breathed against them. She could go if she wanted.

He stroked his thumbs across her chin and along her jaw line. Adorable freckles dotted her smooth ivory skin. Her lashes drifted downward, so sexy.

He inhaled the seductive scent of her skin. Her hair—he wanted to sink his hands into it, and so he did. Soft, silky, red flames. Need poured through his veins.

Her mouth was close to his and open and inviting. Their breaths mingled. He pressed a simple kiss to her lips, and she locked her lips onto his. A maddening bolt of arousal zinged through him.

She twisted her hands into his hair and kissed him, opened her mouth, invited him in with tongue kisses that stole his reasoning. Pleasure tightened his cock and spiraled outward. He moaned and sank his tongue into her mouth again and again. He knew he shouldn’t, but could not stop.

He cupped her tush in his hands and pulled her close. The T-shirt covered her, but that sweet little ass was bare beneath. He groaned, aching to lift the hem and stroke her skin. Her belly pressed firmly against his erection, creating waves of incredible sensations. But he wanted a hell of a lot more—her heat and wetness enveloping him, squeezing his cock.

“Oh, my God! I can’t.” She jerked back away from him, breathing hard. Her rosy skin and aroused eyes distracted him. She glanced down. “What is that?” Her mouth dropped open.

He followed her gaze. The end of a strip of condoms had slipped from his pocket and two were clearly visible.

Oh, hell.

She locked questioning eyes onto his, then after a long moment during which he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, she ran back to her tiny cabin and slammed the door.

“Dammit!” he rasped on a ragged breath. Every cell in his body ached with her desertion.

At least one of them had some sense. He was well on his way to doing the unthinkable. He’d kissed her, and now he would never be satisfied until he’d tasted every inch of her.

Her kiss was that of a sexy diva—hot, soft and wet. He knew when a woman wanted him, and she did.

Straightening, he stood for a long moment trying to get his body under control. It refused to cooperate. He inhaled deeply and shook his head. This had to stop right now!

When a bit of the sexual haze cleared, he trudged toward the stateroom. Two dozen condoms and no chance of using them. But he wanted to. He could easily imagine her rolling one on him. His dick throbbed, begging for the smooth touch of her hands.

I’m such an idiot! Why did I kiss her?

He stowed the condoms in the nightstand drawer. Paul might need them one day.

***

“I can’t. I can’t,” Leslie whispered, shoved her hair back and stared at her reflection in the mirror on the door. Even in the dim light, her flushed skin was obvious, and her eyes dilated and glazed. She cursed under her breath at the riot of arousal surging through her. She trembled, and her body prepared itself for him with moisture between her thighs. Her knees shook so hard, she lowered herself to the berth. Even her amulet was warm and glowing like a bright green coal of fire. Freaky. She lifted it over her head and placed it on the small nearby shelf.

She licked her lips where Scott’s kiss had scorched her. His tongue had done erotic things to her mouth. She’d never had a kiss like that, not from anyone, certainly not from Fletcher.