Under His Kilt by Melissa Blue Page B

but his head was tilted up, meeting her gaze head on. She grasped again for lighthearted. “Now all you need is a kilt.”
    He didn’t smile. “Don’t cry over me. I’m not worth it.”
    “I’m not. I wasn’t.”
    She put her hand over his mouth to make him shut up. His words were absolute drivel. There was much to be said about knowing who you were, what you were capable of, accepting yourself, flaws and all. He couldn’t see that a lesser man, a shit of a man, would have led her on. Made her believe they could have happily ever after when the time became right…and then leave her. He’d told her this is what they would be and nothing more. He’d stated their end date.
    Jocelyn had wanted to believe that she’d be a different kind of woman, but she wasn’t. That wasn’t his fault. “No.”
    He closed his eyes and rested his head deeper into the pillow. She frowned because he suddenly looked so exhausted.
    “I should go,” he murmured.
    “But you won’t.”
    His lips curved into a smile and he laughed. “But I won’t.”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “Yes,” he gritted out and opened his eyes.
    “You’ve got oil and that means a massage. Maybe we should do that instead of talking.” She shifted, spreading her legs. He was hard as a rock, but he wanted to talk. Stubborn man.
    His breath huffed out and his jaw clenched. “Wait.”
    She shook her head. “Done talking.”
    He let out an exasperated sigh. “You drive me nuts.”
    She smiled. “Usually because I’m always sitting on them.”
    “Joce,” he said again but groaned as she slid up.
    “You were saying?”
    “We’re not done with this.”
    She said, “Yes. We. Are.”
    His lids were low, voice raspy and his hands were already working their way up her spine. She teased him some more, using a fake Scottish burr. “Ach. A man’s heart is not in his stomach, Lass.”
    He smiled and she ran her fingers over his lips. “What fantasy haven’t we explored yet?” he asked.
    Kissing him. A fairly new fantasy, but it ran rampant in her mind. He’d tried twice, but both times she’d dodged his lips. He’d gotten the message and hadn’t tried again. Smart man.
    Tonight, kissing him would undo her, so, she nipped at his ear lobe. He held his breath and she pressed closer to feel his heartbeat pound against her breasts. “You.”
    His chuckle rumbled low in his chest. “You’ve had me plenty of times.”
    “Never fails to get me off.”
    He reached for the oil and lathered up his hands behind her back. Ian started at her neck and massaged his way down and up. He kneaded out any tense muscles. The more he touched her, the wetter she became, the heavier her breathing. It was seduction, but she’d long since stopped pointing it out and asking for anything else. If for just a time she could have intimacy with him, she’d revel in every one of them he showed her.
    “Sit up,” he said.
    When she did, he straightened and placed his back against the headboard. Face to face, he continued to knead her muscles, but now, with her legs spread open by his, he brushed his fingertips over the lips of her pussy from behind.
    She buried her face in the crook of his neck and let him tease her. This was his fantasy, just touching her, and it was something he’d done often, but it never felt old. He poured on more oil and it slid down between her butt cheeks. She stilled at the thought and kissed his neck.
    He tensed, hands paused. “What?”
    “I have a fantasy now.”
    “Tell me. In detail.”
    She smiled against his neck and had no trouble this time speaking it, “I’m astride you like this. Riding you, slowly, and you’re touching me where no man has ever touched me.”
    Ian’s heart jumped into his throat and he cursed, because he knew exactly what she was asking for. “You’ve got to warn me when you ask for things like that. You know I’m fragile. Give me a moment.”
    But his hand was already moving down her back, following the line of oil. He