Perfect Timing 2: Highland Fling Read online

  He threw back his head and laughter rumbled through him. “Aye. I ken a sheep’s bladder is better than a sock.”

  Who’d have thought when Torri foisted a handful of condoms on her that she’d be having a safe sex discussion in the eighteenth century? She put the wrapper off to the side.

  He seemed a smart man and condoms were fairly straight-forward, but she didn’t want to take any chances on misapplication. She stroked his rigid length with one hand and he quivered beneath her touch. “May I?”

  “Katie-love if you touch me like that, you can do nearly anything.” He lay back, propped on his massive arms, every inch the man in charge and she knew a strictly feminine thrill that she was here with him.

  She sheathed him—he was dangerously close to proving that one size didn’t fit all—and even that simple act held a carnal pleasure for her. But then this man affected her, turned her on, like no man ever had before. She felt almost drunk with want, all her inhibitions stripped away, as if she’d tossed back a couple of martinis. Her condom duty done, she still lingered to play. Using both hands, she stroked the length of him again and his eyes glittered hotter and brighter. She tested the heavy weight of his sac in her hand and he groaned.

  She wanted, no, she craved, intimate knowledge of his body. This wasn’t a hunger for a man, any man, it was a hunger for this man. His scent. His taste. The cadence of his breathing.

  “Let me get to know you MacTavish.”

  “Aye, I think I am all for this process, Katie-love.” His slow, wicked grin spiked her internal temperature a few degrees.

  She spent the next few minutes roaming, discovering his body with her hands and mouth, catching up with where her imagination had taken her over the last several weeks. There was a familiarity to the texture of his skin beneath her lips, the slight saltiness of his body beneath her tongue, a recognition, as if she’d known him for weeks, years, possibly a lifetime and this was simply reality catching up.

  She brushed her lips against the puckered skin that stretched from his back to his side, her cheek resting against his hip, her bare breasts against his muscled, hair-roughened thigh.

  “Do you know me well enough now, Katie-love?” he asked, his voice low and warm. She looked up past his flat belly and broad chest to his hooded eyes and his face taut with desire. He reminded her of a king. Despite his nakedness, he lay before the fire cloaked in authority and absolute power, a devastatingly sexy combination.

  “I know you well enough, MacTavish.”

  “Then ‘tis time for me to know you.”

  He wrapped his big hands about her waist and pulled her up his body, a slow sensual slide of skin against skin. Her body rejoiced in his corded muscles and hard planes, the supple suede of his skin and the rough slide of masculine hair against her sensitized flesh, the press of his hard cock against her belly and then her thighs as he pulled her up and up, the abrasion of his chest hair against her nipples, the press of his hands at her waist, his scent that seemed to surround her—the scent that aroused her. She lay atop him, a fire of want raging within her.

  She tested the silkiness of his hair against her fingertips. His heart beat against her breasts and his belly muscles tensed beneath her thighs at her touch.

  “You were sexy in that painting, but you are infinitely sexier in real life.”

  She obviously said the right thing. In a smooth, sensuous movement he reversed their positions, with her on her back and him on top of her. Warm, soft sheepskin cushioned her backside from the unyielding stone floor while MacTavish’s heat engulfed her from above. He trailed a kiss down her chest and flicked his tongue against her tight nipple. The sensation ricocheted through her and intensified the ache between her thighs. She cried out and rocked her hips against him.

  MacTavish nudged her thighs apart and a satyric smile curved his mouth. “I’m going to give you what you came here for.”

  Arrogant sexy bastard. His words and attitude made her hotter still. She reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. There was no mistaking the shudder that coursed through him. She’d seen his reaction when Hamish told him she’d come here because MacTavish needed her. Taunting the lion in his cage perhaps wasn’t the smartest move, but she’d be damned if he’d make her out to be some twenty-first century desperate who had to go back nearly three hundred years to find a man willing to sleep with her.

  She spread her legs wider and guided him to her wet portal. Her smile mocked his. “And I’m going to give you what you summoned me here for…what you need.”

  6

  THE DEVIL TAKE IT but he wanted her. Mayhap not her precisely, but some relief. When it came to a tumble, one lass was much the same as another. She’d given him an itch and he’d scratch it. But he was Darach MacTavish, the Laird of Glenagan and he needed no woman. Katie was about to discover exactly who needed whom. Hamish wouldn’t deliberately lie, but he was subject to err in his facts.

  She’d opened her legs and guided him to her. One fractional move of his hips and his rod teased against her. His body tightened in anticipation. “Ah, Katie-love, you are as hot and wet as a summer storm.”

  Instead of plunging into her, he delved the wet folds of her channel with his tip until her gasp told him he’d found what he sought. Again and again he rubbed his cock against her, until she grasped his arms with her hands, her nails scoring him, and she met his stroking with quick thrusts. Despite her heated response, she kept her face turned toward the fire and her teeth bit down on her lower lip, yet she couldn’t quite contain the soft mewling in the back of her throat. Her body tensed and he knew she was on the brink of finding her pleasure. He eased away from her.

  She whipped her head around to face him and tried to tug him back to her. “MacTavish…”

  Her utterance was a mixture of reproach, entreaty and protest.

  Much as he’d like to slip into her wet heat and find the release hovering so close, it was too soon.

  “Patience, Katie-love.” He swirled his tongue about one perfect nipple and found reward in her sharp intake of breath. He looked up. “Even though we both consider this practice, truth is, neither of us know what will happen once we have lain together. There’s no guarantee you will not disappear from my world immediately afterwards.”

  “Afraid you’ll miss me?”

  Cheeky lass. “That’s yet to be determined. How will I know until you’ve gone? But if you are gone after one toss, I’ll not have you remembering Darach MacTavish as the world’s briefest lover.” And he’d not have her confused about which one of them had the greater need.

  The evil wench laughed at him.

  He flicked his tongue against her other nipple and her laughter ceased. “I want to make sure you find your pleasure.”

  She propped herself on her elbows and looked at him, quirking one eyebrow. “Maybe there is something to be said for the eighteenth century, because men I know don’t share that particular concern. We’d have already been done.”

  He paused, his cheek resting just above the soft heat of her belly. Despite the fact that she’d appeared out of nowhere and his intent was to promptly send her back, the idea of another man breathing in her scent, tasting her skin, burying himself between her thighs rankled.

  He traced the circle where her pink crest met the smooth alabaster globe of her breast. “Then you have obviously bedded the wrong men.”

  She sighed her pleasure and arched up into his touch, the tip a tight pouting bud. “You’re obviously right and obviously my lot has now improved.”

  “If that’s what you are used to, then it definitely has. In my opinion the more you want something, the better it is once you get it.”

  “Or sometimes you’ve wanted it so long, so desperately and you’ve built it up in your mind and then it doesn’t live up to expectations. Or maybe you only want it because you think you can’t have it.”

  Foolish woman. Darach never allowed himself to give consideration to what he couldn’t have. That ty
pe of thinking left a man weak. “That is simple enough. Know what you want and make sure you get it.”

  “And do you always get what you want?”

  They both knew he wanted her. And they both knew he was going to have her. “Always.”

  “Because you’re the laird of Glenagan.”

  “Aye. I’m the laird of Glenagan.”

  “Is this about me finding my pleasure or is it about you being in charge?”

  He kissed his way down the slope of her belly, further aroused by her scent, and paused, parting her damp curls with his thumbs. “Mayhap both.”

  He dipped his head and sampled her tender, honeyed flesh.

  KATE SANK BACK into the sheepskin as MacTavish alternately licked and sucked on her clit. Oh. Yes. Every sensation seemed centered between her legs. The swipe of his tongue…the thrust of his nose against her…the brush of his hair against the tops of her thighs…the heat of his fingers against her folds…. He inserted a finger into her as he continued to stroke her nub with his tongue. “Yes.” She panted and fisted her hands into the silky wool and pushed against his finger and mouth, desperate for…“More.”

  “Aye, Katie-love, there is more.” He slid another finger in, stretching her, filling her and she moaned her approval. He moved his fingers in and out while he laved her clit. Each stroke of his fingers and tongue knotted her tighter inside until she thought she’d scream with want, until she writhed with the need to come.

  MacTavish stopped and looked up the length of her quivering body at her and Kate knew what he was all about, knew what this was all about. She’d have her pleasure, but she’d pay the price for her earlier taunt. Or not.

  She skimmed her hands down her belly and rested her right hand on her mound, within an inch of where he was poised between her thighs.

  He retreated, giving her room. His dark smile, brimming with sexual energy, rocked her but she still issued her challenge. “You know I can finish this myself.”

  “Aye, you could.” His voice was a low, sensual croon. “But would that really satisfy you, Katie-love? Is it your touch you crave?” He fingered her and a shudder wracked her. “Is that what you need? Just to finish and be done?”

  Kate had two goals, one immediate, one long-term, both self-serving—to come and to get back home. Opting to go solo wasn’t going to adequately achieve either. If she was planning to hang around and/or pursue a relationship with this man, they’d definitely have to address his “need” issues but she wasn’t on either count so they didn’t have to go there. She’d play by his rules.

  She rolled from beneath him and onto her knees to face him. It was an incredibly erotic position, with her backside in the air and her breasts hanging heavy and full. The heat of the fire licked along her exposed backside and her slick channel. She arched her back. This must be what a cat in heat felt like—totally driven by the need, the urge to mate with MacTavish. Poor kitty. Nothing less than the length of his cock would satisfy her.

  She shook her head and her breasts swayed. “No. It’s not my touch I crave—that wouldn’t satisfy me at all. That’s really not what I need.” She looked at him from the top of his head, past his broad shoulders and muscled arms, past his belly to his jutting erection and powerful thighs, letting him see in her eyes what she wanted. She looked at his sheathed cock, and just to make sure there was no mistake, she licked her lips.

  “Come here,” he said. His commanding tone and hot glittering eyes belied the lazy smile that curled his lips.

  Maybe it was because she was in charge all the time, of everything, that it came as quite a surprise that she didn’t want to be in charge in the bedroom. That it was even more of a turn-on to let him take the lead. Still on her hands and knees, she closed the small gap separating them.

  “Now tell me what it is you need,” he said.

  Kate slid one hand beneath the black silk of his hair and cupped the strong column of his neck, pulling him to her. She brushed his lips with hers. “I want you.” She slipped her tongue along his lower lip. “I need you.”

  His mouth captured hers. Bold, demanding, he tested her response and she answered, meeting his tongue with hers. He cupped her breasts in his hands and toyed with them while he kissed her hard. His tongue in her mouth…his fingers tweaking her nipples…on her knees, her legs spread, her sex ready, quivering…she moaned into his mouth.

  He released her and got to his knees. “Turn around and face the fire.”

  Kate turned. She’d never tried it from behind, it had always struck her as somewhat coarse and demeaning. Now it felt elemental and primal and very right. She dropped to her elbows and wriggled her bottom toward him in invitation.

  “Oh, lass…” He grasped her hips in his hands and teased each of her cheeks with his thumbs, spreading her wider. The fire heated her face, but his body heat scorched her from behind. He hesitated the tip of his cock at her opening. “You are so wet and hot.”

  “For you, MacTavish. Only for you.”

  That seemed to break through his control. In one smooth motion he entered her.

  In that instant it was as if everything inside her stilled, a pause that served as a moment of recognition. For an instant she could swear she stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating, that she ceased being. She sensed the same sensation in MacTavish and then it was as if they were both swept up in a maelstrom of want and need and being. Every sensation, every thrust, every stroke of him inside her, every brush of his thighs against her, every sensation was more intense, magnified. It was as if each thrust brought her closer to something she both craved and feared. But it didn’t matter because her will was no longer her own. She was caught up in something greater than herself that she didn’t quite understand but was powerless to stop even if she wanted to, which she didn’t.

  “Oh, Katie-love…”

  “MacTavish…” She hurtled along on an orgasm that took her where she’d never been and then brought her back, marked, changed, a different person. It was as if she’d found a piece of herself she’d never known was missing.

  She lay with her eyes closed, feeling MacTavish’s weight on top of her, his breath against her hair, the fullness of him still inside her, and panic swamped her.

  What if she opened her eyes and found that she’d hurtled forward to the twenty-first century and taken him along with her? That sex could’ve certainly done it. What if she opened her eyes and she and MacTavish were naked and connected on the museum floor? More horrifying still, what if they were naked and connected in the ER?

  It was like one of those bad dreams come true where you find yourself walking naked down the street. Or at least it had the potential to be. But thus far all she heard was the thundering of her own heart and the rasp of MacTavish’s breathing.

  Kate squinted her eyes open.

  It was almost a relief to find herself still in the eighteenth century, in a castle, on her stomach in front of a fire.

  MacTavish wrapped his massive arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck and shoulder. “Katie-love, I’m glad you found your way naked to my bed.”

  She laughed, but it actually came out as more of a sigh. “Hmmm. That was definitely worth the trip.” She could definitely use a little more of that before she returned home.

  He withdrew and Kate rolled to her side, the better to admire his naked form. Even with his erection at half-mast, he was beautiful.

  Admiration turned to dawning horror. Yes. There was something worse than if she’d transported them, naked and co-joined, to her work…and she was looking right at it. She couldn’t believe it. Obviously one size didn’t fit all. MacTavish had broken the condom.

  DARACH LOOKED DOWN. That wasn’t supposed to happen. “Bluidy hell.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, staring at him as if he were the devil himself.

  “I am not dancing to celebrate, but ’tis not as if the world’s come to an end.”

  “Not for you maybe. You’re not the one who could’ve just gotten p
regnant…or worse.” She put her hands over her face. “I can’t believe the rubber busted.” She dropped her hands and eyed the useless “condom” still snugged around his rod, but open on the end. “But it obviously did.”

  He rolled off the inept device, walked over and tossed it into the chamber pot. “I have not got the pox because I have always used a sheep’s bladder and they work a sight better than that.” He turned to face her. She’d picked up his plaid and was busy wrapping it around her. “I’m no monk, but I have not bedded every lass that looks my way.”

  “I’m sure they all look—young and old alike.” She tied the plaid in place. Backlit by firelight, wrapped in his plaid, head held high, she looked like a Celtic queen.

  Her tone obviously meant it an insult, but he’d take it as a compliment.

  “’Tis a fair number—” he tried to lighten her mood “—despite my personality. But I’ve yet to get one with a bairn. As I said, the sheep has stood me well. When are your courses due?”

  She shook her head. “I should pay more attention but I’m not sure.” She took a deep breath. “It’ll be fine. I just panicked for a moment.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and he noted, not for the first time, that she possessed lovely, delicate ears. “And I never panic. I’m trained not to panic.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and he had the distinct impression she was repeating it so it would be so.

  Darach knew a moment of sympathy for her plight. He wouldn’t panic—battle taught a man a clear head, else he wound up dead. But he could easily see where she would have lost her head. “’Tis to be expected. You’re in a strange place, in a strange time, with a strange man and you’ve no idea if you can get back.”

  She shot a look at him that would’ve withered a lesser man. “Thanks, MacTavish. Now I feel much better. Not to mention I could be pregnant.”

  There’d been something different when he’d tumbled her—something fey and unfamiliar—she’d touched a part of him that had never been touched before. Now the thought that in that moment they might’ve created a bairn…. “If you were, ’twould definitely be better if you went back.”