"No," I chuckle. Then I lift my free hand to cup her cheek. "It's a sweet liqueur made from oatmeal, honey, whisky, and cream."
"Sounds yummy." She's breathing harder now, just like I am.
I drag my fingertips down her cheek, over her jaw, trailing them along her throat to her collarbone.
"Do you speak Gaelic?" she asks.
My mouth drops open. Aye, she's desperate to change the subject, but that felt like a supersonic jet pulling a hard U-turn.
Erica hunches her shoulders.
What else can I do? I give her a gentle smile and skate my thumb across her lower lip. "My mother insisted we all learn."
"We? Do you have brothers or sisters?"
"Both." I collapse back into the armchair, blustering out a resigned breath. "Two brothers, three sisters."
"Thr—You mean you havefivesiblings?" She blinks once, slowly. "Wow, that's amazing. Do you get along with them?"
"Mostly." I shrug one shoulder. "With a clan as big as ours, the occasional barnie's to be expected."
"Barnie?"
"A tussle." I tilt my head to the side, scrutinizing her for clues to what the bloody hell she's doing. We said nothing personal, but here I am indulging her curiosity. And for reasons I can't fathom, I find myself asking her a question. "Do you have brothers or sisters?"
Well, it's only fair I ask since I told her about my family.
"Nope, just me," she says. Erica picks up the Monopoly board and dumps everything off it. Playing pieces, houses, and hotels scrape across the smooth cardboard to clatter into the box in a wee landslide. "Do you see your family often?"
A noise, somewhere between a growl and sigh, rushes out of me.
She tosses the multicolored money into the box and glances up at me.
This won't do. I cannae get to know her because I donnae want to…feel something for this woman. That was our agreement. No strings, nothing personal. I've gone through enough drama in my life, thanks to the woman I shackled myself to for years.
My mouth twists downward, and my shoulder muscles bunch up. "No more talk of family. Agreed?"
She opens her mouth, then shuts it as she claps the Monopoly box shut. "Sure, you got it. No more family talk."
Christ, I hate causing strife between us. But she needs to understand and stick to the rules. So do I. From this moment forward, I will do that.
My shoulders relaxing, I press my palms to my eyes for a moment before I let them fall to my lap. "Don't quite understand why, but we've derailed in somber territory. Time to get back on track."
Chapter Nine
With both hands on the chair's arms, I thrust my body up and straighten to my full height. Then I saunter around the table to settle in beside Erica, half on the cushion where she's sitting. My weight forces it to slope away from her, tilting her body closer to mine, and her shoulder brushes against mine. I love being this close to her, but I need to kiss her right now, not later or tomorrow or anytime that isn't this moment.
I brace one arm on the sofa's back, behind her shoulders.
She draws in a quick breath, her lips parted.
And I slide my hand up her cheek, diving my fingers into all that soft hair. With delicate pressure, I urge her to turn her face toward mine and tip her head back while I lower mine until our lips are aligned, hovering millimeters apart. My lips are tingling with anticipation, which is barmy. Erica excites me more than any woman ever has, and as my breaths reflect off her lips, I tease them with gentle nips and swift grazes of my mouth across hers. Her eyes drift half-closed. I explore her scalp with my fingers, massaging her skin while I struggle to catch my breath. When she exhales a delicate gasp, I flick my tongue out to trace the seam of her mouth, loving that I can still taste the faintest flavors from our snack earlier—chocolate brownies and Talisker.
Erica sags into me, her hands flat on my chest, her throat exposed to me.
"Sweeter than anything," I purr, ducking my head so I can place open-mouth kisses on her throat. I draw her earlobe between my lips and suckle, licking at the lobe until I hear her suck in a shallow breath. My pulse beats so fast I can't think anymore, and I groan against the shell of her ear. "Forget tasting. Devouring ye is what I'll be doing."
I crush my lips to hers, starved for a deeper taste of her, desperate to thrust inside her mouth the way I need to thrust into her body since I cannae do that yet. I've never kissed a woman this way, with our lips mashed together and our breaths blustering over each other's faces. The entire world seems to disappear, and nothing else exists for me in this moment except for her mouth and her body.