“Okay, you’ve made your point. I look ridiculous.” He yanked her to him, and he cursed as his sleeves billowed again. “Don’t you dare tell anyone! I should get points for trying.”
“Maybe. So far your execution has been…less than impressive. ”
He smirked and lifted her up and over his shoulder like a sack of flour. She squealed, fighting him for show, and mostly giggling.
“I’m about to show you my skills at execution. Good night, Touchdown.”
The dog went to his doggie bed as Blake climbed the stairs with Natalie. After shutting the door to her bedroom, he set her down on the bed.
“I’m still going to ravish you even though this outfit has chafed my balls raw.”
“Ah…you poor baby.” Chuckling still, she sat on the edge and pointed to the window. “Why don’t you close the curtains so you can ravish me without the owls watching?”
“Are you ever going to stop teasing me about this?” he asked.
“No,” she said, and since she was tugging off her robe, he didn’t care. “You’re never going to live this down. What if you had fallen and hurt yourself? Can you imagine the gossip? Former Super Bowl star Blake Cunningham breaks leg executing an Outlander fantasy.”
She had a point.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath her robe. His mouth pretty much went dry the instant she pulled it off. She stretched out on the bed, his every fantasy, Highlander or no.
“You were worth it, even if I failed.”
Her blue eyes darkened. “Take off your clothes. Don’t you think you’ve wasted enough time?”
He eyed the clock. It was after midnight, and her alarm would go off at six. “Taking off my clothes now, ma’am.”
Stripping before her was exciting and arousing, even if he did want to scratch his privates in relief as the kilt dropped to the floor. Her gaze ran over him.
“Turn around please,” she said in a playful tone, and now he could feel the fantasy building between them, hot and consuming.
He complied, his muscles tightening, readying. Before he knew it, she was right behind him, her hands caressing his butt. His skin caught fire as she moved down to stroke his right thigh.
“You still have the best legs on the planet,” she told him, leaning down and kissing the length of his hamstring.
“The better to showcase in my kilt,” he replied, his voice husky, making her laugh again. But he didn’t try to use a Scottish brogue. He’d learned his lesson there.
Her lips continued their trek to the back of his knee and then cruised over to his left leg. Every touch hardened him to the point of pain, and when she kissed his right butt cheek, he hissed out a long breath.
“Are you torturing me for trying to break into your house like a roving Highlander?” he asked.
“You did scare me. It’s sometimes a little harrowing to be this far out of town.”
He didn’t want to remind her he was next door if she needed anything. No, he wanted to be right here, all the time, checking on noises in the house like he used to do when she’d hear something. Or killing bugs for her. She hated to kill her own bugs.
“How about I show you why I donned a scratchy kilt and hauled a clunky extension ladder across about three acres in the middle of the night?”
“Not your best plan,” she said, kissing his lower back. “But you did get points for the Highlander costume. You haven’t done anything this crazy since you talked me into having sex with you in the laundry room at my mother’s house at Christmas.”
That had been forbidden and more delicious than her mother’s honey baked ham. “Thank God she was doing the laundry that day, or I swear they would have heard you.”
“Me? You make as much noise as I do.”
When her hand slid around to his front and grabbed him, she more than proved her point when he groaned.
“See.”
And she just had to rub it in. That’s why he loved her.
He slid his hands over hers, caressing her wrists as she continued to stroke his body. When he arched his back, she finally let him go and turned him around to face her. She sat back on her knees at the edge of the bed, a gleam in her eyes.
“Had enough?” she asked.
“Not likely. Lie back.”
She did, and he covered her with his body, resting his weight on his elbows.
“You didn’t kiss me when I got home,” he said, stroking her cheek.
“Oops. Sorry. I was distracted by a clumsy Highlander intruder.”
“Smartass,” he said before taking her mouth in a deep, wet kiss that had them both breathing hard.
Her breasts were masterpieces, so he touched them next. The long length of her spine arched off the mattress as he kissed them. She rubbed the heel of her leg over his calf, telling him she was more than ready for him. But still he detoured, journeying lower to the very heart of her. He worshipped her there, and she came apart under his mouth.