Ian (Las Vegas Sidewinders Book 15), page 18
“I’m guessing offering to pay your rent next month would be a no?”
“That would be correct.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m fine, Ian. I make a good living and live frugally so I can help Margot and put some away, that’s all. I have to get home, though.”
He sighed. “Then what if I come to you?”
“When?”
“You’re leaving on the thirty-first and I’m leaving four days later. What if I changed my flight to go to Seattle instead of Vegas?”
“You’d do that?” She looked surprised and a little conflicted, which bothered him.
“I could try to get on your flight. If you wanted me to.”
“I…”
Something was going through that head of hers, but he was damned if he knew what it was. She always did this, getting cautious and reluctant the moment he talked about the future.
“If you don’t want me to come, just say so,” he said gently, though he didn’t dare look at her because he was getting frustrated.
“No, of course I want you to come. I just might need a couple of days with Margot and Gracie, to give her a little break and get caught up on work stuff. But yes, absolutely, if you can change your flight on the fourth to fly to Seattle, I want you to come.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes! You caught me off guard, but there’s no universe where I don’t want you to come to Seattle.”
“All right then.”
He wanted to ask what her hesitation had been but he was pulling up to the hotel and there was no time. Later, he thought, after he’d fucked her a few times, which was when she was most vulnerable, he was going to get some answers. She was hiding something, and though he didn’t believe she was married or anything, it was starting to concern him. What could possibly have happened to her to make her so skittish with him, still, after all they’d shared in the last month? He was ready to make things permanent, have her move in with him and take care of her, and she was still worried about catching up at work before he could visit. His gut told him there was more to it, but it never seemed like the right time to ask. It occurred to him that if he was nervous about asking her something so serious, she might be afraid to tell him whatever it was that made her so tentative with him.
He might have to talk to Isla about this. He’d never been unsure with a woman before, but he’d also never had such strong feelings for one either. He’d thought after the sexy pictures, she would see that he was a man of his word, a good man, and a man who was falling in love with her. Instead, it seemed to make her even more wary, which made no sense at all.
Tomorrow, he’d think about all of that. Tonight, aside from the bride, he would have the most beautiful woman in the room on his arm. And he was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.
29
The wedding was beautiful and Everly was caught up in a real-life fairy tale. With the most amazing man she knew at her side, looking hotter than any man had a right to, it was like she was someone else. Which was ironic since she was already essentially someone else. From the name she used to the life she lived, she’d walked away from her past the minute she’d turned eighteen, one of many reasons she struggled to trust anyone other than Margot. Tonight, she was about as far away from her life as possible, mingling with some of the rich and famous of Edinburgh, and it was nice to be lost in a crowd.
She’d never attended a wedding this lavish and now understood why Constance had bought her the dress. She would have looked and felt completely out of place wearing her own dress tonight. Everyone here was in a beautiful gown, tuxedo or the kilt equivalent. Ian wasn’t the only one wearing his and she found herself mesmerized by men in kilts. It wasn’t a sexual thing, because she was completely enamored with the man by her side, but more cultural. There was nothing like this in the U.S. and she itched for her camera, to catch the majesty of it for eternity.
Someone put another glass of champagne in her hand and she turned, smiling at Ian as he asked, “Having fun, love?”
“I seem to have fun no matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to find Seattle really boring after Edinburgh.”
“With you beside me? Not a chance. Besides, I’ve been to Seattle more than once and love it there. There’s a ton to see and do, and even if we never leave the house, what more could I want than to spend time with you and get to know Margot and Gracie?”
Everly’s heart swelled with an emotion she wasn’t sure she could name. It wasn’t exactly love, but it wasn’t just friendship either. Ian made her feel all kinds of new things and she moved against him, resting against his strong chest. One arm closed around her, his hand hovering just above her ass.
“What is it, lass? Why do ye look so sad sometimes?” He’d had a bit to drink, and as usual, the more he drank, the stronger his accent got.
“Someday, when we’re ready, I’ll tell you everything,” she whispered.
His other arm closed around her and he pressed his lips to her temple. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. Is it your dad that makes ye so sad?”
She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing he could just read her mind, so she wouldn’t have to tell him the story. Explain the misery of her childhood and the consequences that still impacted her today. It was so damn hard and she desperately wanted to get it off her chest. If only the truth wasn’t so terrifying.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, as if he really did hear her thoughts. “Nothing can hurt you now that I’m here.”
She didn’t move, listening to the steady beat of his heart and reveling in how safe she felt with him. For years after her father left, she’d been afraid to go anywhere alone. Even at school, she’d needed Margot at her side through almost everything. They had one class freshman year that they didn’t take together and she’d been a mess during that period every single day. After that, they synced their schedules so it wouldn’t happen anymore. It had taken until college, when she’d changed her name, to finally feel like the past couldn’t catch up to her anymore.
“Are ye ready to go?” Ian asked her.
“Yes and no.”
“Why’s that?”
“Yes, because I can’t wait to find out what’s under your kilt, but also no, because tonight has been like a fairy tale I don’t want to end. Beautiful people, incredible clothes, wonderful food, fun music, and the most amazing man I’ve ever known. I’m afraid my glass slipper is about to turn into a pumpkin and when I wake up I’ll be alone.”
“But I’m going with you,” he said softly, pulling away just enough to look into her eyes. “And neither of us has a curfew.”
“Can we dance once more?”
“Aye, lass, we kin dance.”
Jesus, she loved his accent. She planned to get him drunk at least once a week just so she could listen to all the wonderful brogue syllables. But right now he’d pulled her onto the dance floor, holding her against him, their bodies swaying to the slow beat. She never wanted this to end, and for so many reasons they were hard to count. Mostly, she didn’t ever want to have to tell him about her father. He was already so far out of her league, and her gut told her he would not only be upset about her secrets, he would also be angry that she hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him. Maybe that was the worst part of all. Somehow, she had to find the strength to tell him who she was and trust that his feelings wouldn’t change.
They were all over each other the moment the door of their hotel room closed behind them.
“I love this fucking dress,” he panted against her ear, “but I don’t want to see you in anything but those heels.”
She snickered. “And I don’t want you to take off a single thing. Not even your shoes.”
“Hurry, lass, I’ve been waiting all night for this.” He stood back, watching as she pulled the dress over her head. She hadn’t worn a bra or panties, so he got what he wanted in one motion. “Bloody hell,” he breathed. “How the fuck did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.” She pulled his head down and dragged her lips across the side of his face until she got to his ear. That little spot behind it always made him a little weak and she wanted to make him a lot weak tonight. She wanted to make him hers in whatever way possible. Without breaking contact with his delicious skin, she slid one hand down to his kilt, fumbling with the layers until she got beneath it. And he was gloriously bare, just like in all her fantasies.
“You really don’t wear anything underneath? Not even in public?”
“Not in public, not in private, never.”
“Jesus.” She grasped his throbbing cock. She stroked it gingerly, letting her thumb slide over the fluid leaking from the head. He was so hard, so ready for her, but she needed this to be more than just sex. She trembled a little as emotions overwhelmed her. Ian was the whole package, inside and out, and every time they touched, a little of the pain from her past faded. She wanted—no, needed—to trust him. Otherwise, if she couldn’t trust Ian, she might never trust anyone ever again, and it was clear now that that kind of emptiness was no way to live.
“Can I get undressed?” he murmured as she dropped to her knees.
“Fuck no.” His cock was bobbing right in front of her and she used her hand to hold it still. She licked the head slowly, tasting the tangy fluid as it coated her tongue. He held up the heavy wool fabric of the kilt so she could get comfortable as he spread his legs for balance.
“Lass, I’m not going to last long like this…”
“Mmm, that’s okay.” She opened her mouth, enjoying the way he pulsed in her hand, both silky and hard at the same time. She flicked her tongue around the head, licking more pearly drops until he pushed deep. Normally, the idea of deep-throating was intimidating to her, but not with Ian. She clamped her lips around him and sucked until her cheeks hallowed out and he let out a grunt of pleasure.
He pulled out abruptly, shaking his head. “Not like this, lass… Come up here and ride me.”
“God, yes.” She crawled into his lap, pushing his jacket and vest off of his shoulders and then fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She loved the kilt and the rest of what he’d worn tonight, but she needed to see and feel more skin, so she yanked it in frustration, her eyes widening as buttons flew everywhere. But Ian was laughing, shaking his head.
“Easy, I’m all yours, love. No need to ruin my best shirt.”
“Sorry.” She tugged his mouth down to hers, greedily taking pulls of his tongue, grinding on his lap as he tried to simultaneously kiss her, hold her in place and roll the condom down his cock.
It didn’t take long and he adjusted her hips so she was poised above him. Without waiting, he slid through her wetness until he was deep inside of her. Her head fell back as she sank down all the way. In this position he filled and stretched her almost to the point of discomfort, but her skin tingled with anticipation. She clenched down, squeezing him, trying to draw him as deep as possible.
He was taking his time, moving in and out lazily, watching her as she squirmed and tried to guide the pace. She was so close, the familiar tightening in her belly warning her that an orgasm was forthcoming, but he’d stopped moving and was watching her intently.
“Already?” he teased, cupping her ass.
“Please, Ian…don’t stop.” Sweat coated her skin and she got a little wetter every time he moved.
The scent of sex filled the room, even with his kilt practically covering their private parts as she bounced in his lap.
“Tell me how you feel, lass,” he whispered, slowing to a stop again.
“Wh-what?” She frowned, trying to focus on what he wanted her to do.
“You want to come, yeah?” He reached between them and gently flicked her clit.
“Oh, yes, please…”
“Then tell me how you feel.”
“About…you?”
“Well, yeah, of course about me.”
“I…oh!” She let out a little shriek as he thrust up hard while simultaneously circling her clit. But then he stopped again.
“Come on, beautiful, tell me.” He leaned forward, dropping light kisses on her collarbone. “I need to hear the words, and then I’ll give you everything, lass. All of me.”
“Ian, I…” He stroked up and angled his hips, hitting something inside of her that made her whimper with both pleasure and the frustration of denial.
“Yes?”
“I’m crazy about you.”
Hard. Deep. Stop.
“And?”
“And I want to be with you—oh, please don’t stop again!”
“Then say the words.” His green eyes bore into hers, his face flushed with exertion and something she’d never seen in him before: vulnerability.
“I love you.” It came out in a whispered rush, fear and insecurity falling away as he gripped her hips and began lifting and lowering her. He fucked her harder than he ever had before, bottoming out each time and burying his face in her shoulder. He nipped at her skin and then roared through his release just as she exploded around him.
“Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck!”
“I love you, lass, and yer all fucking mine. Say it!” He was still moving, his cock somehow thickening even more.
“Yours,” she cried. “Yours!”
She collapsed against him, too spent to move. Her eyes closed and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say or do other than nestle as close as possible into his strong, safe arms.
30
She loved him.
It was the last thing he’d thought about before he fell asleep and the first thing on his mind when he woke up. Everly was still in his arms, her blond hair fanned across his arm and her sweet face completely relaxed as she slept. They’d had a breakthrough last night when he’d finally gotten her to admit her feelings. It was a little rushed and kind of crazy, but it felt right, as if everything had fallen into place. She still hadn’t told him about the things that haunted her, but he felt sure she would start opening up now.
“Is it time to get up?” she murmured sleepily.
“We have time.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “You looked so pretty sleeping in my arms, I didn’t want to wake you.”
She smiled, though her eyes were still closed. “You really are the most romantic guy ever.”
“I dinnae think so, lassie.”
She chuckled at his exaggerated accent. “Well, I think so, and that’s all that matters.”
“Ye may be right about that.” He stroked his hand down her arm. “Are you ready to take these formal portraits today? The boys are probably grumbling about having to dig out their kilts, but Granddad is undoubtedly over the moon. He loves a good formal affair, even if it’s just pictures.”
“I can’t wait to get all of you in the room, though I’d love some photos in the garden as well, especially of your mom and Isla.”
“I’m sure you’re going to do a great job.”
Her eyes finally opened and she blinked up at him, a soft smile on her face. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been more excited about a photo shoot.”
“How come?” He was genuinely curious.
“Because I adore your mother and want to do this for her. She seems really excited about it too.”
“She is and I’m sure you’ll do great, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you want to do this for her, for our family, even though it’s not your specialty.”
“Which is why I’m both excited and terrified.”
“It’s going to be great. I have faith in you.”
“Then let’s get some breakfast because I’m hungry.”
He wasn’t inclined to move just yet. “First, I have a present for you.”
“A present?” She smiled. “What kind of present?”
He swung his legs over the bed and got up, rummaging through his bag and taking out a small, ribbon-wrapped package. He handed it to her. “I hope you like it, lass.”
Everly didn’t know what to think as she pulled the ribbon free and slowly unwrapped it, unable to disguise her curiosity. It was small, definitely a jeweler’s box, and that made her both nervous and excited. As she slid the top of the box off, she stared at an elegantly carved gold brooch. It was stunning and she gently lifted it out of the box.
“I know a brooch isn’t something most ladies today wear,” he said softly, “but this one is special. It’s a Luckenbooth brooch.”
“That has to be something spectacularly Scottish,” she said softly, holding it in her hand and staring at the beautiful design. There were two intertwined hearts, topped by a crown covered in diamonds.
“Aye.” He smiled, fingering it softly. “You might call it the Scottish equivalent of a promise ring. It’s a token of love and affection, often given as a wedding brooch, but that’s a bit old-fashioned even for me. So this is my promise to you, a token to help you remember how much I love you and what you’ve come to mean to me in such a short time.”
“Oh, Ian.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
“Legend has it that it was the engagement brooch given to Mary, Queen of Scots, by Francis II, whom she eventually married.”
“And now you’re giving me something that was given to Mary, Queen of Scots?” Tears spilled down her cheeks and she threw herself in his arms.
“Well, it’s not the original, lass,” he whispered against her hair.
“Doesn’t matter,” she sniffed. She lifted her head to look in his eyes. The time had come. She had to tell him the truth about everything. “Ian, we have to talk about something.”
