Here With Me (Adair Family 1)

“But I’m supposed to be meeting Mac.” I sighed, melting into the bed as Lachlan trailed shivery kisses up my calf. I thanked God I’d shaved that morning.

“Mac can wait.”

It took me a minute to gather my thoughts again.

“I’m not sure he—” I cut off my delayed response with a low moan as Lachlan’s mouth reached my inner thigh and his hand caressed my stomach, fingers tantalizingly close to where I wanted them. My breath hitched as he licked the crease of my leg. The bristles of his beard tickled sensitive skin as he scattered kisses over my stomach and down my other thigh.

Deliberately avoiding the spot.

Frustrated, I arched my hips. “Lachlan.”

He lifted his head, eyes full of mischief. “Problem?”

I grunted in irritation. “Stop torturing me.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” the bastard lied, and then pushed my thighs wide, eyes a smoky cerulean with lust as he bowed his head between them. “Is this what you want?”

I nodded, trying to push up into his mouth, but he had my hips pinned.

“Say it.”

I flushed at the demand. None of my sex partners had ever been particularly loquacious in bed. “I want your mouth.”

“Is that it?” His breath whispered over me, increasing my excitement. “No special instructions?”

“I’m pretty sure you know what to do,” I huffed, growing more agitated. My fingers fisted into the bedsheets.

Lachlan laughed, and then I was in heaven.

As he worshipped me, his hands smoothed up my stomach to cup my breasts and squeeze. I was overwhelmed by him, writhing on that bed, lost in nothing but passion. My moans grew to groans and cries, no longer cognizant of anything other than him and the pleasure he wrung from my body.

I came on a loud, hoarse cry of release that echoed around his room as he moved up my body, mapping it with his kisses. Still breathless, blown away by the best orgasm of my life, it took me a minute to realize that Lachlan was paying particular attention to the three scars on the right side of my chest: one near my right collarbone, another close to it just above my breast, and the third lower down just beneath my breast.

But then he was distracted by my nipple, for which I was grateful, and I wrapped my legs around his back to encourage him to come closer. My fingers worked through his thick, silky hair and moved down his back, touching and exploring him as he sucked at my breasts, taking his sweet time until both nipples were swollen and sensitive. I wanted him inside me. I could feel him throbbing against my stomach, and I kept trying to hitch my hips to bring him where he was currently very much required.

Lachlan chuckled at my efforts, his bearded cheeks grazing my breasts as he caressed my hips and ass and continued loving me with his mouth.

His head dipped downward again, and I thought I was going to get a second orgasm via his tongue when his kisses did a U-turn.

Back to my lowest scar.

He kissed it tenderly.

And then lifted his head to study it.

The scars were easy to hide with clothes, but I only hid them because I didn’t want people to ask questions. I wasn’t self-conscious about them, and I didn’t think they were ugly.

While what happened had put me in therapy, it was also one of the things I’d done in my life that I was most proud of. I’d saved my friend’s life, and the scars were my badges of honor.

Still, what did Lachlan think of them? Running my fingers through his hair, I asked him.

“I know what they are,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I’ve seen bullet-wound scars before.”

I nodded, hoping the mood wasn’t about to be spoiled.

His brows puckered. “What happened?”

I shook my head, trying to signal with my body that I just wanted to have sex. When he didn’t catch on, I said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “At least tell me Mac knows.”

“He does.”

“Then I guess that’s what matters,” he bit out, seeming pissed off before his mouth took mine, his kisses hard, searching and breath stealing.

He broke the kiss only to grab a condom from his bedside-table drawer. Suited up, Lachlan caught me under the arms and hauled me farther up the bed as if I weighed nothing. Then he was over me, one hand braced at the side of my head, the other curled around my thigh.

He glided in, eased by my desire, and I gasped at the delicious, full sensation of him.

Lachlan held my gaze as he took his time, gentle, slow, deliberate flexes of his hips as he built a torturous friction between us.

“More,” I demanded, dragging my nails down his hard chest, my thumbs catching on his nipples. “Lachlan, more.”