Single Daddy Scot (Hot Scots)

‘You did a much better job of following instructions the other night.’ His throat rumbles with the words.

‘But we aren’t playing now.’

‘Little girl, that’s where you’re wrong. Take off your pants and show me what’s mine.’

‘You can’t seriously expect me to believe that you’ve just turned off your feelings for Fin?’ My response doesn’t sound as strong or as indignant as I feel it should, but it’s hard to feel anything but the stroke of his fingertips.

‘I expect you to take me at my word. I expect you to give me a chance to show you. And I expect you to take off your trousers before I create some wicked consequence. I want you in my bed, Ella. Not tonight, but soon. But more than that, I want you in my life. In our lives,’ he adds, his words heavy with meaning. ‘And I think you want that, too.’

‘In your bed but not t-tonight?’ Out of all the information contained in his words, this is the thing I require clarification on? What is wrong with me?

My pussy is in charge, obviously.

‘No, sweet girl.’ His smile is warm one minute, then wolfish the next. ‘But if you’ll have me, I’ll have you soon.’

‘Then why am I taking off my pants?’

‘Because I’ve never seen you in your underwear. And you’re wearing heels,’ he says, as though that explains everything. ‘Christ, I want you. But I want to do this right. Tonight, I think I’ll settle for a taste.’

No ambiguity there.

‘But—’

‘Hush,’ he says, placing a finger against my lips. ‘We’ll work it out. You just have to say yes.’

In answer, I loosen the zipper at the side of my pants.

24

Ella

‘You like heels,’ I murmur, struggling with my zip. Seduction fail number one; getting the lining of your pants stuck in your zip.

‘I like all kinds of things,’ Mac says, smiling. ‘And I look forward to sharing them with you.’ Gently replacing my fingers with his, he yanks, and the zipper moves like it should, but my pants don’t fall.

‘There’s a, er, hook and eye thingy.’

‘Will had no chance of getting into your knickers tonight, did he?’ His fingers ignite the skin of my waist as he unhooks the tiny mechanism.

‘Literally.’ I giggle, but Mac doesn’t join in. ‘None whatsoever,’ I reiterate. ‘I-it was a piece of madness.’ My wide-legged pants fall to my feet.

‘You were trying to make me jealous,’ he says all growly, his gaze thoroughly examining what’s on display.

‘I wasn’t.’ It’s true. I just couldn’t stay here with him. And why is he only looking—not touching? My whole body trembles in anticipation of the brush of his fingers. The feel of his tongue.

‘Then why?’

‘Because you’d never be mine, not really. And seeing you with Fin. I had to get out of the house.’

‘You should’ve called your friend.’ His tone borders on a reprimand, his eyes still branding my skin. ‘But, Christ, you are lovely.’ But not his type, whispers my doubt. ‘I’ve wondered what kind of knickers you’d wear.’ His revelation makes me smile quite suddenly.

‘I like frilly fripperies as much as the next girl.’

‘So I see.’ His hand skims the cream lace between my legs, and I close my eyes. It’s all I can do to stop from throwing myself at him.

‘Do you approve?’ I ask all breathlessly, like a damsel in distress and heaving chest.

‘More than you know,’ he answers cryptically.

‘But the question remains,’ he continues ponderingly, ‘if you’re the type of girl who wears matching underwear.’

In a move far too bold for Raphaela Alescio, I cross my arms at my waist and lift my camisole over my head.

‘You are like a wet fucking dream.’

His dark lashes flicker once, twice, before our mouths meet. Tasting, teasing, there’s a hint of tongue, which I return, sighing. Moaning. My fingers clutching the front of his shirt as our kiss deepens. And when he hums in appreciation, the deep vibration echoes in my pussy.

‘Oh, Mac, I want you.’ My whispers hit the air between desperate kisses. ‘Please, touch me.’ Never have I felt the kind of all-consuming need I feel around him. ‘You make me feel desperate. Want things I can’t even describe.’

‘Try,’ he growls, his kisses traversing my jaw and neck. ‘Tell me how you see us fucking. Tell me how you want me your first time.’

‘Here,’ I whisper. ‘I want you to fuck me here.’ I feel so desperate, my body aches like never before. Uncurling my hand from the front of his shirt, I take his fingers in mine, feeding both between my legs. ‘Here,’ I say, covering his hand with mine, rocking against him. ‘I want to feel you here, Mac. Please, fuck me.’

He cups me, pushing his fingers up against my seam and his palm against my pussy. ‘Fuck, your knickers are wet.’

Oh. My. God. Nothing in my life has ever sounded so awestruck and growly and just as hot as this.