away, those fragments of my parents echo in my mind. Fragments I could easily erase with the slug of a shotgun. Luckily, Mia’s face consigns those times back to hell again.
It took ages for me to share with Leith how Lady and I played Russian roulette with each other’s emotions in the past. Only, she’d blast me to smithereens with the slightest mention of my father. I am a ‘sweep it under the rug’ type of person, always have been, always will be. Lady manipulated the one card she had to my detriment.
I fully understand my history and refuse to let it repeat itself. My husband views me as a happy wife with an aversion to crime, ostentatiousness, and laziness. I can’t stand not helping him take care of us.
I open the stainless-steel refrigerator and remove the gadgets and beakers from the bottom shelf. Since I stopped bartending, at his insistence, I’d begun drafting my own beer. I pull out my latest batch of brew. I place the chilled glass on a silver tray just as Leith rounds the corner. At first sight, he’s as unattainable as he’d been when I watched him from the comfort of half a courtyard away at school.
His dark blond wavy hair is slick atop his head, and he pushes a few strands away from the ocean that is his eyes. His bronzed skin stretches over protective, ropy arms. Basketball shorts ride low along his hips and a dusting of hair branches up across his lower abdomen.
A sharp inhale fuses into my lungs. Damn.
“Take a picture, hen.” My full lips curve ever so cocky.
“Nope, you alright,” I back peddle. He commands my arm with one hand and removes the pint with the other. Eyes wide, I observe his every move while he guzzles the lager, one of the hardest beers I ever experimented on. The amber liquid swooshes until it’s all gone.
In a breathless shock, I ask, “What do you think, Leith?”
“I downed it, aye?”
I shake my head, looking into those dreamy eyes of his. Why is this crazy Scot my most favorite feeling in the entire world?
With how badly Lady treated me, meeting Leith was more than a blessing. His love has opened my eyes. As a giddy feeling surrounds me, I ask, “Of course you downed it. But what about—”
“So good got me begging for a smourich!” His lips find mine, lush yet firm, tongue dipping into my mouth for a taste. As he moans, “how sweet,” I whimper. The notes of honey and orange infuse into the lager heightening the desire brewing in my core. Our kiss builds like a forest fire, alighting my flesh from the inside out. Leith’s arms are my home as he surrounds me fully. Nothing’s better than sex with the one you love, but in these moments, the feel of his mouth along mine almost tricks me into believing his kisses even the score.
Coming up for oxygen, I ask, “But was the beer—”
“Nae, lass!” He growls, grabbing me about the hips.
My ass slams down onto the counter. Heady giddiness surrounds me as Leith’s frisky hands seem to be all over me, kneading my hips, skimming my cheek, tracing my collarbone. “Wait, Leith. Just tell me . . . Yum. You taste good. But from ‘one to ten’ was the beer—”
He clamps the back of my neck, presses his waist between my thighs. “Feck the drink, Chevelle, this right here is a ten. This is a ten. And this . . .” His mouth keeps pressing down on mine, tongue sweet and delectable against mine. Our moans are synchronized.
Teasingly I press my sex to his thick waist. The warmth of him is satiating. “Leith, be serious.”
“This is a ten, but yer pussy is a pot o’ gold.” Leith closes the distance between us. He unloops my overalls one at a time. My mouth falls open, hypnotized by the stroke of his tongue as he pushes my shirt up. “This . . . I have no bloody words, Chevelle. My heart is in there.” His voice grows husky, more Scottish as he says, “Ye stole my entire heart, hen, placed it right in there with yer own.”
His lips clamp on my nipple, his hand clasping around my breast as he suckles. “You will keep my heart safe for me, Chevelle, forever.”
The sound of my name exiting Leith’s mouth is like the chime of a bell during massage therapy. With eyes hazed over, I feel his love from the depth