Under His Kilt by Melissa Blue Page A

worry about it. It’ll be fine.” He paused. “Of course, he can always make us look like jackasses for trusting him, but that’ll be on me, not you.”
    “Maybe,” she muttered.
    Lexxie left her side to sniff around Ian’s feet. Finally, she just plopped down on his right foot. Sadly, she and her dog had it bad for the man. She wondered how Lexxie would react once she realized that Jocelyn was it, the real and only owner.
    But that’s not why they were home. “Season the steaks, then meet me in the bedroom. We’ve got some very important things to talk about before you go.”
    He raised a brow. “You’re going to let me use salt unsupervised?”
    She hissed and thought about that for a moment. “Use the All Seasoning.”
    “Your trust in me is breathtaking at times.” He grinned at her and tutted at Lexxie. The dog rose on command, tail wagging and smiling at him with a stupid I’m-so-in-love grin.
    Jocelyn sighed. Yeah . She kicked off her shoes, the jacket came off next and she was naked by the time she curled under the covers. Lexxie preceded Ian, but mainly to settle down right at the threshold. Her girl knew the routine, too. Ian passed her by and closed the door in the dog’s face. A short whine to make her opinion known but no scratching followed the action.
    “Your dog likes to listen,” Ian said.
    “She’s a pervert like her owner. It’s why she puts up with me, I think.”
    He tugged off his shirt and displayed the chiseled chest Jocelyn never got tired of seeing. “Oh, so you’ve accepted this new side of yourself?” he asked.
    “Around the time you got me off with my showerhead.” She tried to remember and couldn’t. “When was that?”
    “Yesterday.”
    “Yeah. Then.”
    He tossed his sweats at her and she caught them, pressing her nose into the soft cotton just to smell his decadent musk mixed with her laundry soap. Completely pervy, but that’s why he’d tossed them at her—he wanted to watch her do it, so, she didn’t feel alone.
    Ian waylaid his path to the bed to break out the oil and a handful of condoms, placing both in easy reach on the nightstand. Finally he slipped in beside her, sighed and pulled her on top of him. Where he was hard, she was soft and their bodies curved together perfectly. She arched up, letting her hands sink into the mattress, one on each side of his torso.
    “Feels like I haven’t touched you all day,” he murmured before kissing her collarbone. His hair had grown out again, curling around his ears and looking unkempt.
    “We haven’t if you discount the morning.” She tried to say it lightly, to continue the act of not caring that this might be the last time he’d touch her like this.
    Her throat clogged with all the emotions she’d tried to hide over the last few weeks. The moment his body lay warm and hard beneath hers. Or, maybe the moment her dog plopped on his foot, unabashedly needing to touch him, any part of him. Jocelyn completely understood the need to feel the warmth of his skin.
    “Joce,” he whispered but pulled back. “Look at me.”
    God, she was going to cry and then that would make it clear her speech had been bullshit from the go. It would prove that those twenty-nine years of being timid and sweetish, his word, and un-adventurous was who she really was. No, she hadn’t calcified to that woman who didn’t take chances—she was that woman already. Pretending to be someone different for a month didn’t change who she really was.
    She’d only proved without any doubt she was a meat and potatoes kind of woman. Ian would have every right to walk away now instead of in two days and feel like shit for doing it. She’d broken the one rule they really had. Fuck. Her eyes stung, and she tried to blink fast, keeping her face averted from his.
    “Look. At. Me. Don’t hide.” His burr deepened. “I know I shouldn’t be here. With you. Like this. So just fucking look at me.”
    She did and couldn’t read his expression,