Among the Heather (The Highlands, #2)

My lips pressed together at his blunt one-word response.

She seemed unfazed, cocking her head as she ran her gaze up and down his body. I had apparently ceased to exist.

Eden was caressing his shoulder now, and I was seconds from ripping off her hand. “Those scenes are usually so awkward, but you made them so easy. We’re natural in the bedroom together, no?”

Was she fucking kidding me?

“Eden, I’m standing with my arm around my girlfriend who you haven’t looked at once and are deliberately trying to provoke,” North said calmly but matter-of-fact. “Now I’d appreciate when we’re not filming that you don’t touch me. Okay?”

Her jaw popped out like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and honestly, I was surprised too. Most men I knew, even the best ones, avoided confrontation as if their lives depended upon it. Even Montana, who was a great high school boyfriend, would get squirrelly and nonresponsive when another girl hit on him. It used to upset me. Why couldn’t he just man up and say “I have a girlfriend so don’t do that”? You know why? Because he enjoyed the attention.

But North?

I was coming to find that North Hunter was a unicorn.

“I, uh …” Eden, for once, looked uncomfortable and unsure as her eyes flicked between us. “I did not mean to be inappropriate. If the shoe was on the other foot …” Flustered, she waved a hand. “It won’t happen again.” Eden shrugged and walked away.

Until North called her out, I wondered how many times Eden had flirted with someone in front of their partner. Was it just because no one had ever told her no?

North turned to me and raised an eyebrow at my expression. “What’s that look?”

I curled my fingers into his shirt. “It’s the ‘my boyfriend just made me so wet, I’m going to need him to take care of it’ look.”

His eyes flared and a second later, my hand was tight in his as he practically hauled me off set toward his trailer. Laughter threatened to burst out of me and did when he gently shoved me up the three short stairs. Inside, North spun me around, his mouth crushing down on mine as we stumbled back into the wall. Something fell off it and crashed at our feet, but neither of us was paying attention.

I felt his warm, rough hands on my outer thighs as they brushed my skin, pushing my skirt up to my waist. With an almost animalistic grunt, North curled his hands around the fabric of my underwear and tugged, the sound of them tearing away from my body and the sudden air between my legs increasing the heat between us to a combustible level. He’d just ripped my underwear off. A deep tug in my belly made me moan with want.

Our lips collided in biting, nipping, licking kisses as we both reached for the closure on his jeans. He shoved them and his boxers down to his ankles, freeing his cock, and I watched as he took his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieved a condom. As he rolled it up his straining arousal, I licked my lips in anticipation. No one felt like North. No one ever would.

“I want it hard,” I pleaded, the trickle between my legs amplifying my already excited state.

“I’ll give it to you any way you want,” North assured me, his voice guttural with promise. And promise he did. I gasped as he gripped my legs, spread them, and thrust up into me.

“North!” I cried out in pleasured shock, his throbbing heat overwhelming me. Every feeling, thought, all my focus was on the sensation of his thickness inside me, and I struggled for breath as my body tried to adjust and relax. It was as if every nerve was inflamed, and a minuscule shift between us sparked a tug of delicious tension I immediately sought more of.

North, however, held still against me, breathing heavily as he stared into my eyes with such love and longing.

And a hint of satisfied possession.

I pushed my hips against him, and his grip on my thighs became almost bruising.

“I need you,” I whispered.

His control snapped.

As North hauled me up, I didn’t think about how heavy I was or if this was awkward. I wrapped my legs around him. Holding tight, I panted with excitement as he pounded us into the wall, thrusting into me hard, gliding in and out of my snug channel. The trailer rocked with the force of his drives as he pounded me into the wall, and I loved every fucking second.

I felt his thumb press down on my clit and I blew apart, my cry of release triggering North’s. He threw his head back, his eyes on me, his muscles strained as he gritted his teeth to muffle the sound of his climax, and my inner muscles clenched around him as he throbbed with release.

North fell against me, his lips on my shoulder, his chest against mine, my arms still locked around him. He turned his head and kissed my neck.

“Ye werenae jokin’.” His accent thickened with lust as it sometimes did. “Ye were soaked, princess.”

His hot mouth hit my throat and he groaned. I shivered at the feel of his tongue as he scattered wet kisses upward toward my ear. Then North whispered, voice hoarse, desperate almost, “I love ye so fucking much.”

Joy, fear, adoration, longing, relief, anxiety. I felt it all as I tightened my arms around him and kissed the top of his head. I tried to open my mouth. To say the words back … but they wouldn’t come.

It made little sense because the one emotion I felt more than all the others was love.

I loved North.

Why couldn’t I say it?

Tears pricked my eyes. Especially when he lifted his head to look into them. I sensed and saw his disappointment. But he didn’t condemn me for my weakness. Instead, he kissed me with such tenderness, it only made me feel worse.

Was I broken?

The thought terrified me.

Because if I couldn’t say it to North … there was no hope of me ever saying it ever again.





Thirty-Three


NORTH





Walker proposed to Sloane at her bakery opening. She said yes!





The text from Aria made me smile as I chugged a bottle of water. Blake was filming a scene between my costars for the rest of the day, and I was enjoying downtime overlooking the gorgeous Lake Como.

Hot sun beat down on my back as I replied.

Happy for them. I’ll need to text Walk.





It didn’t surprise me Walker had proposed to Sloane at the grand opening of her bakery. Aria told me last weekend she thought his proposal was brewing.

Monroe is holding an impromptu engagement dinner for them tonight. I might miss our call.





My gut twisted. Not because she’d miss our nightly call, but because I wished I were going with her. A friend’s engagement dinner sounded like something you were supposed to do as a couple. These things never bothered me before. I’d missed girlfriends’ birthdays, for goodness’ sake, because of filming schedules.

The difference was that Aria was my home, and I felt like together we were making a place for ourselves in Ardnoch, even if I couldn’t be there all the time. I didn’t want to quit—I loved acting too much. But it would take me a while to get used to being so aware of missing out on life events with Aria.