Scandalous Scotsman - M.J. Fields Page 0,54
about exuding sex appeal and wearing the most expensive labels. Women who’d look past being treated as property for material gains. Not one has worn panties that screamed, I could give a fuck less what ye think like those knickers did, Elizabeth. Coupled with yer blatant fuck-you-I- haven’t-time attitude, ye became something I needed beneath me.”
“Well, dang.”
He shrugs and leans back. “Then, well, out of true concern, I dialed a number and all that went to hell. I didn’t want to just redden yer arse, I needed to ken it was okay, because ye made me so, Elizabeth Bloom.”
Goosies … everywhere.
“Now, shall we eat?”
I nod as I look into his eyes. Eyes that are expressing a million different emotions, yet none seem to be mixed nor dull the other. They show me lust. They show me concern. They show me determination. And I swear they show me love.
As he plates the steak then cuts mine, I’m not surprised that it’s cooked to perfection.
“It looks amazing.”
He nods. “Aye, even more so when you live with a wee little vegetarian determined to save every animal she’s ever seen.”
Reusable bags, sexy accent, amazing lover, not just emotionally stable, but woke AF, silicone lids instead of plastic wrap, single dad who has clear love for his daughter and knows what he wants, and in my non overthinking, anxiety-ridden, lucid mind, one of those things is me.
Standing at the sink beside him, rinsing dishes as he loads them in the dishwasher, sexual energy like static electricity jolts between us each time we touch.
He closes the dishwasher and turns toward me. “I had a million places I wanted to lay ye out tonight, to devour ye, but I want ye in my bed so fucking bad that my desire to be a gentleman is getting beat to hell by my need to make ye come.”
Jesus, is he real?
“Pinch me.”
He looks at me oddly.
“A figure of speech.”
He grips my waist. “I was thinking ye had a kink ye needed explored.”
“I’m happy to be a passenger as long as you’re in the driver’s seat.”
“Fuck,” he growls before his mouth crashes against mine.
Saturday
Ethan
She’s lying naked in my bed, the sun lightly filtered with the sheer curtains hanging over the large windows overlooking the landscape of the backyard. The room is big enough that it stretches to both sides of the house, yet I’ve never paid attention to anything but the street side until now.
Why?
Elizabeth Bloom’s bedroom window is the view from the front.
I prefer her in my bed than seeing shadows across the way and allowing myself to imagine it’s her.
Her raven hair is loose and fanned out over my pillow and hers, the white sheet lays diagonal across her body. One perfect breast rises and falls, uncovered. My mouth waters with my desire to bring her rose-colored nipple to a sharp peak just to see what isn’t lust alone in her eyes. The curve of her hip, her full, sexy thigh, and bended knee leading to her strong calf, and slim ankle now adorning my gift … I crave everything about Elizabeth Bloom.
Everything.
I have one charm to gift her each week leading up to the four-day trip that I must take to Scotland. The trip coincides with a long weekend, in which Kai’s grandparents were given visitation by the court, per their request.
They refuse to discuss arrangements with me; their preference to do it through lawyers, which pisses me off when they’re granting the requests without being consulted.
It won’t happen again. I’ve made sure my lawyer has made that abundantly clear. I’ve blocked their access to her the best I can, but I am sure Christmas was changed. They’re not even Christians, for fuck’s sake, yet they tried to impress upon the courts that it was important to them.
Grandparent rights may be important to a child’s wellbeing in some cases, but the grief they live, borne of regrets they have, will not force me to lend sympathy to unsympathetic people. I was only allowed four hours with them hovering with my Kai for eight years. They deserve far less, and they have received it.
They didn’t win that battle, so I’ll be surprising Kai with her first trip to Scotland. My heart’s desire is to show her that part of her genetic makeup, the part that has no doubt been villainized enough that she has “little” desire to see it.
It won’t be Elizabeth’s first trip to Scotland though. Well, I’m hoping it won’t.
Which is why I sit here, cock