“True, but I also heard he’s rumored to be wearing a kilt to this thing. And I have never gotten to see what’s under one before.”
“Aye, lass, you have. You were up close and personal with it last night and this morning, andwhen we get back to the inn, I’ll show it to you again.”
My thighs clenched tight. Heat pooled low in my belly. “Yes, please.”
“Come on then. Time’s a-wasting.”
“We can’t have that. Did I ever tell you about the time I took riding lessons?”
He looked puzzled by my topic deviation. “No.”
“It wasn’t something I wanted to stick to, but Clara insisted. So I went down to visit her, and my brother-in-law’s youngest brother Sutton taught me how to ride.”
A low growl left him. “Oh, he did, did he?”
“Oh, yes. He gave me very detailed attention. Made sure I was seated just right. And that I knew how to work my hips.”
“Becca, are you trying to wind me up? Because it’s working.”
“My point is, I never took to horseback riding, but maybe that’s because what I really needed was to learn the fine art of beard riding instead.”
He grinned wide and dragged a hand over his closely cropped beard. “Oh aye, that is quite a sport. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been a participant in having my beard ridden. I think maybe I’d like to take it up again. If you’d like.”
“Oh, I’d like. I’d like it very much.”
“Let’s go, right now.”
In a handful of minutes, we were running up the stairs to our room. He slammed the door and threw the lock, and then we were frantic. Tearing at each other’s clothes. Kissing so hard my lips would be bruised and swollen. I didn’t care. I just wanted him.
And then he laid back on the bed, fully nude, cock hard and jutting. A specimen of perfect masculinity, not a single toxic trait about him. Well, maybe a few. He was a bad boy, after all. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he licked his lips.
“All right, lass. Your saddle is ready. Come over here and sit on my face.”
18
TAYLOR
The wedding partywas exactly as I had expected—absolutely over the top and ridiculous. Mum didn’t do things by half, and this was a prime example of that. She spared no expense. And thankfully, with the weather being beautiful, we were able to make use of both the outdoor and indoor portions of the space she’d reserved, because the entire bloody town showed up.
All I could think about, however, was being in the room with my beautiful girl and helping her do up the zip of the dress she’d brought for the occasion. It was not quite white—she said it was called ivory—with a plunging back and fitted waist. The bottom of the skirt flared out, and it reminded me of something you might see in the fifties, but sexier. The straps were off her shoulders, nestled just at the curve of each, and I could see every inch of skin from her neck down to the tops of her breasts.
It was painful for me not to take advantage and slide my hand inside the back of her dress so I could touch her, but I held myself back like the grown man I was. At least I wasn’t the only one ogling. She was right there with me, taking in my formal kilt wear.
“Fuck, the look in your eyes, hen. I cannae go to this sporting a cockstand.”
“You’re just going to have to tuck it or tie it down or something,” she said with a giggle.
“Tie it down?”
She shrugged, then kissed me. “I’ll give it something as a reward later.”
A pained groan escaped me, but I pulled it together.
Thankfully I’d been able to get myself under control, and the two of us walked hand in hand onto the grass where the tables were set up.
“Oh my God. Your mom wasn’t kidding. It’s beautiful..”
“Aye. She’s an excellent party planner.”