BULL: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 6) (154 page)

7.

 

Caine lay Miranda down on the four-poster bed and began to unlace the front of her dress robes. They were heavy, the fabric layered and soft against her skin. He ran his hand up the side of her leg and parted them so he could slip between them. Miranda gasped as he nipped the side of her neck with his teeth and pinned her back against the bed. With each touch, she remembered him even more, and she knew that they had made love before, when they were in their late teens and full of hormones and lust for one another.

She leaned forward and pulled his shirt up. Beneath it were his perfect abs. His muscles were tight and solid from hours of fighting, swinging a sword and jousting on his powerful horse.

“I’m so glad I found you,” he whispered into her neck as he kissed her once more and pressed himself against her. Miranda bit her lip with ecstasy when she felt the stiffness in his trousers. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer to her, needing to see into his large brown eyes. She saw everything when she looked into them; it was as if he were a mirror reflecting her own soul, and when he kissed her, he seemed to breathe life back into her. Ryan had taken so much of that away.

Caine pinned her arms back high above her head with one hand and with the other he began to pull down her robes, exposing her breasts. He sucked on them hungrily and reached between her legs to find her underwear. He pulled them down in one swift movement and plunged a finger inside of her. She moaned and thrust her hips up to meet him. She was soaking wet and desperate for him. She had missed his touch, which remembered so well now and couldn’t get enough.

I’m the luckiest woman alive, she thought. I’m getting a second chance at my perfect life.

Caine released her hands and kissed down her throat, her chest and her stomach before reaching between her legs. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and spread her as wide as he could before lightly flicking his tongue up and down her sex. Miranda screamed in ecstasy and Caine grunted as he crawled back on top of her with his rock solid manhood in his hand. He parted her legs again with his knees and positioned his helmet at her opening.

“I love you, Miranda,” he whispered before sliding himself slowly inside her. He grunted and put all of his weight on her. “And I am never going to let you go again.”

Caine thrust in and out of her slowly and pinned her back into the bed. He held her wrists against the bedframe and slammed her against it. Miranda could barely breathe as he took her, and before long, she was on the verge of the most intense release.

“Caine,” she panted, “I’ve missed you so much.”

He drove himself into her, hot and hard and hitting her spot so perfectly that her whole body shook and seemed to open to him, allowing him to penetrate her deeper than ever before.

His thighs tensed and with each stroke Miranda knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold on any longer. She unraveled beneath him in a wave of pleasure and screamed up to the ceiling as she held onto his neck. Caine wasn’t far behind her, and at nearly the exact same moment, he began to cum, shooting his hot, fierce load right up inside her. He groaned as he buried his face into her neck and shuddered on top of her. Miranda was split open and full of his love… and she never wanted to let it go.

 

***

 

They lay side by side in Caine’s huge four-poster bed, and he cradled her and kissed her head.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispered, “We have so much to look forward to.”

Miranda trailed her fingertips up the side of his arm and breathed him in. Even the scent of him was familiar. He really was the other half of her soul…

Maybe this is why nothing ever seemed to work out for me, she thought, I was always supposed to be here, with him.

She had only been back in the past for twenty-four hours, but she was already losing sight of her current life. She wasn’t leaving anything behind that she would crave as much as Caine. She no longer had to worry about Ryan… about her shitty boss who was so quick to throw her under the bus the very second something went wrong… She would miss her parents, but she knew that they would want her to be happy. And she hadn’t been in 2015. She smiled as she looked up at her amazing man. Her one and only love that after hundreds of years, she had been given another chance with. Her knight. Her savior.

Caine ran his hand through her hair and kissed her.

“You are even more beautiful than I remember,” he smiled. “But you have to tell me… Where were you all of these years?”

Miranda looked into his eyes and wished that she could have told him the truth. She wished she could have told him all about how the world is in the future, but she knew it would blow his mind… and not only that, he would probably think she was a witch, wielding black magic with her crazy talk.

She could try and explain television, the internet, electricity and cell phones, but she had realized the second that she had woken up in 1076, it was a lot more enjoyable without them. Instead of wasting time watching brain dead TV shows or surfing the web, she could cuddle up in the arms of this amazing man and let him make love to her all night. No distractions and one hundred percent dedication. She was excited for their future. Just as long as it stayed well in the past.

 

THE END

 

The Highland Locket

 

Jessica Savage

 

Copyright ©2015 by Jessica Savage. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

Thank you so much for your interest in my work!

 

 

    ’TWAS on the 9th of September, a very beautiful day,

That a numerous English army came in grand array,

And pitched their tents on Flodden field so green

In the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and thirteen.

 

***

 

All was quiet across the hillside, the air eerily calm as before a storm. The occasional sound of a horse braying or a man shouting echoed across the valley, disturbing the peace. A bright sun gleamed across the vast blue of the skies as William Stewart waited for the signal for the battle to commence. He did not know that thousands of the men and boys around him would be dead by the time the sun rose again, one of them being his King. But he could not alter history or the lineage of over 10,000 men. It was possible, however, that he could shape his own destiny.

 

***

 

Rebecca Brooke stared out the window. All week the weather had been cold and dreadful, and a low mist had hung over the valley, blotting out the wonderful view that the brochure had promised. For a summer vacation, late August in Scotland had proved to be a damp squib so far. OK, so it was a working vacation, two months working on a 16
th
-century archaeological dig in Scotland. It had sounded pretty awesome at the time. Cool, yes. Cold–no!

It was her first proper assignment and her first time in Scotland. She would have preferred Egypt or India, but she had been allocated to Scotland instead. Although she had been told to pack for the weather, she had ignored the advice. Living most of her life in California, she spent most of the time in shorts and miniskirts that showed off her tanned and toned legs. What she needed here was a woolly jumper and thermal underwear! She had managed to buy a few pairs of thick leggings and wore these under her shorts and socks. It wasn’t her best look, but at least they showed off her figure. Most of the other girls wore thick, shapeless sweaters over practical-looking outdoor pants that didn’t do them any favors.

Not all was lost, however. There was James Anderson.

James was the lead archaeologist on the dig, a Scotsman and an expert on Scottish history. Not only was he handsome, but he was intelligent, too–the new sexy. With his deep auburn hair and brown eyes, no woman was safe. Not that he noticed her, or anyone else for that matter. By breakfast, he had already eaten and gone out to the dig, and when he returned, his nose was always in a book. At least he was eye candy.

Her cell phone rang in her pocket and Rebecca looked at the number. It was her Mom. She had only been here for a couple of days but she had already phoned twice to see if she was eating properly and if she had managed to see the Queen of England yet; it was a no to both.

“Hi, Mom.” She tried not to sound bored.

“Becky, sweetheart, how are you doing out there?”

“Same as ever. How’s Dad?”

“He’s good, sweetie. Are you eating OK?”

The conversation continued thus and Rebecca tried hard to stifle a yawn. Her Mom meant well, but sometimes she could be overbearing.

“Are you tired, honey? You sound tired.”

“No, Mom, I’m still a bit jet-lagged. We haven’t been able to go out on site yet because of the good old British weather.”

“Well, don’t forget you could check out our relations there. We do have a great Aunt, twice removed, if she’s still living. She must be at least 90 by now. Wait a minute, and I’ll get you the details.”

“Mom...” But it was too late. Rebecca could hear her Mother scrabbling around in her bag for one of her notebooks.

“Here we are. Have you got a pen handy? It’s Mrs Nora McPherson, the Old Vicarage, Selkirk. Did you get that, sweetie?”

Rebecca hadn’t any desire to visit a relative who wouldn’t know her from Adam, but agreed with her Mom just to shut her up. After she promised her mother not to fall into a Loch, the call was finally over.

Sammy, a bespectacled English girl, was walking towards her with a smile. She had done her best so far to avoid her. Sammy was a “jolly hockey sticks” type who was always trying to arrange outings and activities for the others.

“Hey, Rebecca, do you feel like braving the weather and heading into the nearest village this afternoon? We might even find a pub–do you want to come?”

They were all staying in a large rented property on the outskirts of a village, and Rebecca hadn’t had time yet to get her bearings.

Sammy was of the baggy jumper brigade and Rebecca felt nothing in common with her. She would rather stick pins in her thighs than have to make small talk.

Shaking her head, she stood up to leave when Johnny Hampshire strode into the room. Johnny was handsome yet arrogant. He was Scottish but had attended an English public school and spoke with a very clipped accent. He worked closely with James, and neither man had much time for each other. Unfortunately, Johnny had noticed her long blonde hair and treated her like the local bimbo. For once she wished she was wearing Sammy’s shapeless garb.

“Hey, Becky, fancy a stroll in the heather with me?” he grinned suggestively as he looked her up and down, before placing his hand territorially on her arm.

She wanted to tell him to go screw himself but was far too polite.

“Actually, I’ve already arranged to go out with Sammy.” Rebecca shrugged his arm away and his grin slipped into a sneer.

“Frigid bitch,” he muttered under his breath, the muscles clenching around his jaw line.

“What did you say?”

Johnny smiled again, but this time it made her shiver with its coldness. “I said have a great time” and with that, he turned and slowly left the room.

“What a creep.” Sammy made a face as he left and Rebecca laughed. Perhaps the afternoon wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

They ventured out into the mist and fog. The drizzle was light yet constant and Sammy loaned Rebecca a bright green jacket to wear. There was no one to see her wearing it in this place, and James would probably find it sexy.

The girls walked along a little path, and for once Rebecca was glad she had bought a decent pair of walking boots. She could feel the mud slip and slide beneath her feet and was glad that she wasn’t wearing her usual flimsy sneakers.

After half an hour, they had almost given up hope of finding a place when they stumbled across an old coaching house –The Bluebell Inn. Relieved, they staggered inside, dripping water across the polished floorboards as they made their way to the bar and ordered double whiskies to warm them through.

Rebecca looked around, amazed at the place–it was like stepping back in time. Apart from the two of them, the bar was occupied by several all men wearing tweed jackets and caps. They all stared back and nodded. She must have looked as strange to them as they did to her, in waterproof, fluorescent pink boots.

Sammy walked back with the glasses of golden whisky. The whisky tasted good. It was the best thing about Scotland so far. As it hit the back of her throat, her whole body seemed to glow.

“We’re just down the road,” Sammy laughed. “I bet we can see our place from here–I’ve just spoken to the barman, and this is the village of Selkirk.”

Rebecca coughed and started to choke on the amber nectar. Selkirk was the place where her old relative lived, and she was staying literally on the doorstep. A shiver ran through her as if there was something sinister about the connection, as if it was always meant to be. Maybe it was just a mixture of the cold and the alcohol or perhaps she was still jetlagged? She laughed at her foolishness. There was something surreal about the whole thing, standing in the middle of this Scottish pub, dripping wet and drinking whiskey among the tweed-clad locals that made the whole thing seem absurd. A couple of double whiskeys later and she had soon forgotten all about her ancient relative.

It was evening when they rolled out of the door and into the darkening air. The mist had lifted slightly and a smell of decay lingered. The night had started to draw in and wrap itself around the girls, chilling them to the bone as they hurried quickly along the road, this time taking the more direct route. The path took them past an old church, its old Norman tower looming in the darkness. Next to it, Rebecca could just make out the dark shadows of the ancient gravestones and, stopping for a second, she peered through the rusting iron railings and wondered if any of her ancestors were buried there. Sammy proceeded to pounce on her making ghostly wailing noises and Rebecca shrieked with delight as they ran on, not stopping until they were back inside, safe and sound.

It wasn’t late when they returned, but Rebecca was tired, still recovering her recent flight.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. If it weren’t for a noise outside her door, she would have probably slept all night. She stirred and reached on the bedside table for her watch. It was only 10:30 and she realized she had a terrible thirst from the whiskey. She always slept naked and quickly slipped into her fleecy dressing gown, a present from her Mom, before opening the door and setting off down the landing towards the stairs. There was some juice in the kitchen downstairs, and if she was quick no one would see her.

A noise on the landing made her stop in her tracks; perhaps it had been the same noise that woke her? All was quiet again apart from the muffled voices coming from the downstairs lounge.

A hand grabbed her arm as soon as her foot reached the top step.

“Becky.”

Johnny was suddenly in front of her, and from the smell on his breath, he had been drinking for most of the afternoon. His hand was squeezing her arm against the wall and she struggled against his strength. His eyes were like slits and there was a hint of cruelty behind the steely grey as he looked her up and down. She could feel her face start to flush as she realized that her gown was gaping at the front, and she quickly brought up her free hand to hold it together.

“For God’s sake, Johnny, let go of me. You’re hurting my arm.”

Licking his lips, Johnny sneered at her as he brought his face directly in front of hers.

“How about a little kiss first?” His breath was hot and sour, and Rebecca turned her face away from him.

“Fucking little tease, I’ll show you.” He slammed his weight against her, pinning her to the wall as his free hand started to work its way underneath her gown, groping up her bare leg towards her thigh.

Rebecca was stunned. She disliked Johnny, but it was hard to believe he was capable of this, however drunk he might be. She tried to strike him and started to shout for him to stop, but he released her arm and covered her mouth to gag her. His other hand by now had slid to the fastenings of her gown and started pulling at the buttons. He was soon grabbing at the soft flesh of her naked breast, his hand rough and greedy as he squeezed at her nipple, now hard and erect in his fingers.

“I knew you wanted me, you little bitch,” he said, and as he thrust his pelvis into her stomach, she could feel his hardness rubbing against her.

At first she had been alarmed by his behavior, but now she felt powerless and sick at the thought of what he might do to her.

His hand was almost suffocating her, and she thought she might black out when suddenly he released her, his whole weight lifting away from her. Someone was coming up the stairs. Without hesitating, Johnny had disappeared around the corner just as James came into view. She looked startled as she pulled the robe around her, too stunned to cry.

“Are you OK?”

His voice was rich and deep, lilting softly on the question, a look of concern in his eyes.

She nodded quickly in reply. “Yes, I thought I heard a noise. I came out to see what it was.” Rebecca couldn’t look him in the eye, and she sensed that he didn’t believe her, his eyes searching the landing for something or someone.

“You’re sure you’re OK?”

This time their eyes met and she felt a strange tingling run through her spine. It was almost as if something passed between them, some knowledge or sense of something shared. He must have felt something too for his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as if trying to remember something but not quite catching hold of his thoughts.

“I’ll say goodnight, then.” And with that, he was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she let her body sink to the floor until she sat on the landing. She was so tired, past tired, and her emotions were doing cartwheels through her brain. Maybe she should have told James about Johnny, but she had just arrived and didn’t want to make trouble. After all, Johnny had been drunk, not that it was an excuse. Who knows what would have happened had James not arrived when he did? She shivered again at the thought.

No, she didn’t want to think about that; she just wanted to sleep.

The next day it was much brighter but still raining. There would be no dig again today. She had slept right through to 10:00 am, and by the time she had dressed and gone down to breakfast most people had finished. Sammy sought her out as she drank a strong cup of coffee to wake her up.

“Hey lazybones, you’ve missed all the news. You’ll never guess.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. It was all she could manage. “What?”

“Johnny’s walked out. He had a big fight with James last night, and he left early this morning.”

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