Highland Fling Read Free Page B

trapping her between the bar and him. His muscular six-foot frame pinned her gently to the shiny wooden surface as he pressed his hips against her. His hard length nestled at her back set her blood dancing and she was left in no doubt as to what exactly was under his kilt.
    “Brodie...” She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him. But she couldn't afford to have him. The emotional cost of having him and then leaving to go back to Glasgow may very well crush her. As a child she had cared deeply for her friend and the short time she had spent with him today had proved that those feelings had only been hidden rather than lost. He moved slightly and turned her in his arms.
    “It'll be very embarrassing if I have to move away from you just now. It's not like I have a sporran on to hide my predicament. Dance with me,” he urged.
    Fiona chuckled and placed her arms around his neck. They moved slowly into the throng of couples on the makeshift dance floor. Brodie caressed her hips as he brought his hands down over her bottom and squeezed, drawing her closer to him and rubbing himself against her. His groan of desire was muffled by the skin on her neck as he skated his lips over the delicate flesh.
    “You're not doing anything to improve your predicament,” she warned him.
    “I don't care,” he muttered, nibbling gently on the lobe of her ear. He stroked the cheeks of her butt before moving the fingers of one hand lower, prodding between her legs and almost reaching her core, despite the layers of cloth between them. It took all her will power to draw back slightly, preventing herself from rubbing harder against him.
    “Brodie, this is dangerous. We're in public.”
    “Hmm.” He started to move, steering her through the other couples and farther away from the bar. The sudden chill of night air made her gasp as he grabbed her hand and dragged her out into the street. The road was lit by a few street lights, but it was much darker than the pub had been. Even still, she could see the tenting of his kilt and smiled at the effect she clearly had on the handsome islander. It felt good to know that she was desired – and by the same person who used to tease her for being ‘a ginger.’ He seemed to like her mane of long red hair now.
    “Why are we out here,” Fiona asked, breathlessly. He stopped and looked at her then grabbed her hand, pulling her along the road. “Where are we going?”
    “I'm taking you home.”
    “You are? Why?”
    “Because, if I stay out here with you much longer, I won't be responsible for my actions.”
    “And what actions might those be?”
    “Stop flirting, Fee. You were the one who, a few hours ago, was telling me she was not ready and doesn't do one-night stands.”
    She allowed him to drag her along a few hundred yards. She really did want him. Her nipples were like tiny rocks chafing against the fabric of her bra and her legs like jelly. She needed his strength, his hardness to press against, to disperse the frustration that mounted with every minute that passed. If she went into this with open eyes, she couldn't be too badly hurt surely.
    She dug her heels in, and Brodie came to a stop, turning around and raising a questioning eyebrow.
    “Would you be interested in a fling? A holiday romance, I suppose. No strings attached.”
    “I thought men were the unromantic ones.” He inched close and caught her around the waist. “And yes, much as I want more from you, I'll take what you're willing to give for now. You know, as we grew up, I always assumed you and I would marry. We were best friends and I thought we always would be. Then the summer before university, you wouldn’t speak to me and since then I’ve wondered what I did to upset you. I really wanted to make it up to you and hoped that one day you’d be my girlfriend. I guess I didn’t want that childish notion to end. So yes, Fiona Campbell, I will be your Highland fling and I’ll keep my fingers crossed for more. ”
    He really did