Lunch? Right. Plans. That thing people do when they aren’t too busy losing every brain cell to the woman beside them.
Honestly, after what just happened, I barely remember my own name. I completely forgot we were supposed to be at the Glen Garve Resort approximately—I glance at the clock—five minutes ago.
“Ah.” I make an apologetic face. “We’ve already missed it. We’re due there right now, and it’s a bit of a drive. Plus, we’re completely naked.”
She rolls off me and I immediately miss her warmth. “I hope you’re planning to call and grovel,” she says, arching a brow, “and not just leave them hanging.”
“Aye, course. Maybe I should ask if we can reschedule for next week?”
She narrows her eyes in mock suspicion. “Is this your way of locking in a second date?”
“Might be,” I say, all casual-like.
“Well, then.” A little smirk plays at her lips. “Yes to another date... but only if you go phone them now.” She nudges me with her foot under the covers like she’s shooing out an unruly dog, but there’s this secret delight in her eyes.
I grin wickedly as I swing my legs out of bed and stand, noticing how her gaze drops—very blatantly—to my cock. Soft now, aye, but she’s looking at it like she’s replaying exactly what we just did. A tiny, satisfied smile tugs at her mouth.
Christ, I could die happy right now.
“You think they’ll accept ‘Sorry, I was shagging the hot single mum next door’ as an excuse?” I ask, stretching my arms above my head.
She snorts then reaches over and slaps my bare arse. “Just hurry up and go!”
I’m halfway to the door when she adds, low and teasing, “And Struan? When you get back, if you fancy it, maybe we could go another round?”
I turn to look at her. She’s propped up on one elbow, the sheets pooled at her waist, hair a wild tangle, looking like every fantasy I’ve ever had made flesh.
Jesus Christ.
If that isn’t motivation to sprint stark-bollock naked downstairs to grab my phone, I don’t know what is.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AINSLEY
I give Struan’s bare arse a satisfying slap. “Just hurry up and go!”
He grins at me then heads for the bedroom door. The muscles in his back shift as he walks. The arse I just smacked flexes with each step like it’s putting on a show just for me.
“And Struan?” I call after him. “When you get back, if you fancy it, maybe we could go another round?”
He looks back at me, his grin full of promise.
Then he’s gone, footsteps thudding down the stairs.
I flop back against the pillows with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. My body’s still humming, warm and loose and thoroughly satisfied. The sheets smell like him. Likeus.
So much for taking things slow. Still, I can’t bring myself to regret it.
I close my eyes, letting myself sink into this feeling—this rare, perfect contentment—while I wait for him to come back.
Downstairs the front door opens.
Then—a shriek.
“Struan!” A woman’s voice, high and startled. “What are you doing here? Your da said you were at the dentist! And why are younaked?”
I sit bolt upright.
