I go in search of him after dinner, a little uncertain as to why.
“Can I come in?” I knock on the study door. It’s open, but I’ve never been in here.
“Aye,” Dougal smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Just going through the surveillance footage. I got a report back from Ian after he questioned all the employees.”
“You didnotrough those poor people up,” I groan, “haven’t they been through enough?”
“Of course we didn’t ‘rough them up’. The explosive was attached to the exterior wall of the restaurant, that’s what saved us. There’s a small storage room between that wall and the meeting room. It weakened the blast.”
Thinking of that enormous skylight crashing down makes me wince, “If you say so. So whoever it was didn’t get a man inside. They still managed to pull together a credible amount of C-4 in a hurry. That’s not easily available even to people in our line of work.”
“Aye, that’s a good point.” He’s got a half-finished glass of scotch in front of him and I nod at it.
“Any more of that around, then?” I seat myself in the armchair opposite the couch. Dougal pours me a glass and sits next to me, lightly tapping his glass to mine. This feels… almost too comfortable, but he’s talking business with me and I don’t want to lose this moment. “So, do ya’ have someone running down all the local suppliers?”
He chuckled, “The MacTavish’sareone of the local suppliers. There are only three other outfits that’d have C-4 in stock. We’re following up with them now.”
Taking a sip of the scotch, I nod in approval. I prefer wine, but even with my limited experience, I can tell from the smoky notes and the smooth finish that this is some ridiculously high-end stuff. “I’m sure this has already come up, but who benefits from playing our clans off against each other? We’ve mostly stayed out of each other’s way. Our businesses rarely overlap.”
We trade theories back and forth but don’t come to any useful conclusions. I’m on my second glass of scotch and feeling oddly relaxed with this man who made me marry him.
He’s watching me, his ice-blue eyes are warmer, more like a Mediterranean blue tonight.
“Do you know how I caught you so fast that night at the party?”
Frowning, I shook my head.
“It was the scent of you. When I bumped into you in the hallway, I could smell it. Citrus, the sweetness of vanilla, and something peppery. I remembered it from the night at the docks.”
“You…” I grind my teeth. “So you knew it was me before I even stole the box?”
“Aye.” He leans forward, rolling his glass between his palms, gaze intent on me.
“Well, why… I mean, why didn’t you stop me then?” I’m so angry. Heknew?
Here comes that shark-like grin of his. “I wanted to see what you were up to, wife. Seeing you in action was such a fecking turn-on.”
My hand’s tilting at an odd angle and he rescues my glass before I pour the very expensive scotch down my dress, he’s close enough to feel his breath on my skin as he takes a long, deliberate sniff.
“You smell like that now. Perfect, sweet, and feminine.” He’s close enough now that his lips move against the thin skin of my throat. “You smell like mine.”
His hand slides up to cradle my jaw and his mouth slams down on mine as he groans. Almost like relief. Like he’s been waiting forever to do this. His other arm slides around my waist, pulling me tightly against him, and I can feel how much he wants me.
My world tilts again and I’m bent over the arm of that couch, that damned couch that has witnessed too much of Dougal’s outrageous behavior and before I can protest, he’s yanked my dress up, undies down and his hands are on my arse, spreading me wide and his mouth is on me.
“Oh, my god!”
I want to protest his actions most strenuously but… his tongue is rolling along my clitoris and he pulls it between his lips, sucking hard. My hand slaps down on the leather arm of the couch. I can feel the cool air of the room mix with the heat and wet on his tongue and then his mouth fastens over my pussy like the most outrageously carnal kiss. His teeth are gently pulling on my pussy lips and a thick finger circles the opening to my channel before sliding in.
“God-damnI could eat this pussy all night,” Dougal groans and I moan along with him. Then his mouth is back on my clitoris while his finger slides in and out of me. He uses the flat of his tongue to give me long, cat-like licks and I bite the inside of my cheek trying to stop myself from pushing back against his voracious mouth. He’s making low, pleased sounds as he licks me and the guttural tone is vibrating through me.
A loud slap echoes around the room as the sting on my arse alerts me that he just spanked me. Before I can protest, that huge hand of his hits the other cheek.
“I want you to come for me,” he growls into my pussy. His finger hooks inside me, rubbing hard against my inner walls and I shiver, a full-body shake that turns into something bigger, heat radiating down to my fingers and toes and I know when it cycles back to my center, I’m going to explode, whether I want to or not. “Come on, be my good girl,” he croons, “come for me. Soak my face.”
It’s the dirty talk. And his finger. And his lips fastening back on my clitoris and tugging and I let out a scream. There’s shock. Surprise. And coming so hard I can’t breathe, just draped over the couch gasping and shuddering while he licks me faster.
Dougal pulls me upright so fast that I give a little yelp and he grins, the rakish bastard. Still, he’s holding me carefully so I’m not putting my full weight on my injured foot. He kisses me, and I make a noise in the back of my throat as I taste myself, his tongue shoving through my lips to play with mine.
