KiltTease (3 page)

Kate had no clue about him—that much was clear from the first moment they’d met. And that meant she had not one question about why he retired from rugby or what he planned to do now. He could flirt with her shamelessly and know her response was genuine. She’d wanted nothing from him. Had no expectations of him or what he could give her. No time soon would he end that.

He relaxed and barely felt the residual pulsing pain through his shoulder. “You often travel alone?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you mean ‘Are you single, lass?’”

“Are yer?” He teased her by deepening his accent.

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth parted for a second before Kate snatched the bottle from the crook of his arm. “You take care of Bobbie for me, and I’ll answer.”

Single
. “If I take care of that prick Bobbie, you’re going to give me more than an answer.” He pried back the whiskey and placed it on the shelf. “Have a drink with me instead.”

She released a breath. “I thought you’d say something that would force me to accidentally elbow you too.” Her brows furrowed as she inspected his face. “But I don’t think your nose can take anymore abuse. What do you do?”

He ignored that question, not yet ready to change this—whatever this buzz between them was. “I know how to behave when I want.”

The naughty smile she gave him hit right where he needed it—low in his gut.

“Yeah?” she murmured.

“Aye,” he answered, not listening to the voice of reason at all.

“Excuse me?” A familiar, husky lilt interrupted whatever could have happened next.

His teeth clamped together just at the sound of the other female voice. What was the next step up from a clusterfuck? An apocal-fuck? But Quinton should have known he’d be hunted down eventually. He couldn’t hide from his old life forever. Scotland was too small for that wish to ever come true. He had just hoped it would have taken longer.

Kate’s stare went to him. His shoulders bunched at her questioning gaze. The buzz of attraction had disappeared between them. Just as well.

She looked at the woman next, her mouth thinning for a moment, likely seeing the intimate connection. Quinton put the kit on the shelf and then stepped into the hallway, because he believed in ripping off the Band-Aid hard and fast even if it was on his balls.

CHAPTER THREE

“Oh,” Angeline said, her octave dropping, “there you are.”

If Quinton hadn’t been standing next to Kate, he wouldn’t have heard the curse she uttered right before she plastered all those soft, small curves to him. His limbs froze as her warmth engulfed him.

She wore a lazy smile, but her eyes were sharp.
No
. They telegraphed,
You’re so going to owe me
. Confusion flickered through his brain for a millisecond. It would have lasted longer if any blood had remained in his head.

“Sweetie,” she cooed, “who is this?”

“Kate?”

He didn’t mind the way her breasts crushed into his chest and arm, nor could he really stop his hand from cupping her arse—the action was reflex. Maybe it was her musky scent that clogged his brain and kept him from understanding the sudden change. The woman he’d flirted with in his uncle’s pub would have never called him sweetie, much less throw herself at him.

Kate rose to the tips of her toes, nuzzling his neck. His eyes closed as a groan spilled out. She whispered, “Go with it, you idiot.”

A second ticked by before the meaning could get through the fog of her full lips having feathered over the skin of his throat. When it did, a smile crept out. Quinton brushed his mouth over her brow. She shivered—that reaction was real.

Captivated by her tremble, it took him another second to remember what he’d planned to say. “This is Angeline, my ex.”

“Quinton,” Angeline said, “that’s no way to introduce me.”

“You assume I want to.”

Kate’s eyes went wide at the exchange. He said to reassure her, “By the time our relationship ended this kind of interaction was the norm.”

“Oh,” Kate said, “I see. She’s that kind of ex. I have a few of those.”

His ex was standing there and he was bantering with Kate. With his hand still firmly on her arse. She had a way about her. “Probably more than a few,” he guessed.

“I’ll never tell.”

Angeline cleared her throat. Awright.
Her
. He’d been daft enough to love her. But over the course of their eight-month relationship, he’d learned
she’d
loved his money. Loved the way the world kowtowed to his whims and, by proxy, hers. Loved to play it up for the paparazzi, even when Quinton tried to guard his personal life from prying eyes.

But when you stripped all that away, there was just Quinton—cocky, loved pussy, and bloodthirsty on the field…aye, but he was so much more than that handful of qualities.
Just Quinton
came without fame and status.

Knowing her truth hidden beneath the facade didn’t stop those old feelings from welling up and making his throat tighten. So Quinton pulled Kate into a tight embrace.

Angeline sized up her competition at the action and disregarded the other woman with a flick of her gaze. She tried again. “Quinton,” she purred, “it’s good seeing you. I’m sure we can be civil.”

Her words were pretty lies. He wished for cold indifference to wash over him, but there were vestiges of love he still felt for her. “This is my version of civil.”

“I forgot that about you. You’re not always so charming.” She donned her signature pout and strutted forward.

The fit of her black dress reminded him of every tumble they ever had. Some nights she’d happily drain him dry, and he’d ask for more. It stung his pride more than a little bit that he’d let pussy turn him inside out.

“What are you doing here?” his voice turned hard and cold.

In an airy tone, she said, “I haven’t seen you in what feels like forever.”

Again, he asked, “Why are you here?”

Her perfectly arched brow lifted. “You don’t know?”

“What should I know?” The irritation was clear in his tone.

Her eyes widened in a show of innocence. “I’m the wedding planner’s assistant.”

Quinton balled his free hand at the news. “Fuck me in the arse,” he muttered.

Victoria couldn’t have known of the connection, and neither would his brother. If they had, they would have found a different wedding planner. Fuck, he hadn’t even seen Angeline at the castle earlier during the wedding rehearsal. If Quinton had, he could have maybe prepared himself for this apocal-fuck.

Kate shifted in his embrace, snuggling her warmth and softness into him. Without thought, his fingers dug deeper into her hip. The action drew her attention to him for a heated second. A soft noise escaped her mouth before she cleared her throat. He blinked, surprised at how easy Kate had managed to drag him out of the tense moment.

Bringing her focus back to his ex, she put out a hand. “Katherine Campbell.” When Angeline took it, Kate smiled. “He’s told me so little about you.”

A snort of laughter fell out before he could catch it. Quinton put his face into Kate’s hair and whispered, “Beautifully bitchy. I owe you.”

“If you would excuse us, Angeline.” He could hear the laugh in Kate’s tone as she spoke. “You caught us in the middle of a…discussion.”

The glacial glare Angeline gave Kate could have cut diamonds, but the mask was in place by the time she brought those smoky-green eyes back to him. “I guess I’ll see you around then, Quinton. You seem…occupied.”

He could only shake his head. “Aye, I guess I will be forced to.”

Angeline’s gaze promised retribution. She hadn’t taken her pound of flesh, and she’d crave for it until he had paid in some way for leaving her instead of the other way around. No one broke up with Leggy-Irish-Angeline. But she left without another word. That counted for a lot.

“Kate,” he said softly to the woman who had saved him from all that, “did you come from a place called Karma?”

Her brown eyes held a hint of mischief. “It’s safe to say the United States since we never stayed in one place. My dad followed work, and my mom followed him. My grams lived in Florida. She was my constant.”

He laughed again, because even her straight-forward answer still somehow came across sarcastic. “Good to know.”

“Are you going to tell me about the she-devil?” She paused, glancing down, and then disentangled their limbs. “I get it though. She’s kind of hot.”

His brows rose. That was interesting. “Really?”

She rolled her eyes in a men-are-pigs sort of way and laughed. “Unlike men, women can see another woman’s hotness and not want to screw her. It’s why we’re the superior gender.”

God, he liked her. He cupped her cheeks and then brushed his thumb over her lower lip, smearing her red lipstick on his finger. “You have no idea what you just did for me.”

“Saved your ass. I took one look at your face and then hers and knew.” Her words tripped over each other in a ramble. She didn’t let that stop her. “I went to school with girls like her. She’s the type to poke holes in your condoms.”

Pleasure filled him at the knowledge his touch could make her ramble. “Kitten,” he said to help her stop the words.

Anger sparked in her gaze. “You know—”

“What?” he urged, still satisfied at the flush he’d put in her cheeks.

“You…” She looked into his eyes, her teeth scraping over her lip. “You did that to shut me up.”

His attention fixated on her full lips, now practically bare. “Aye, though there are better ways.”

Her gaze strayed to his mouth, and she shifted an inch closer, tilting her head in a silent invitation for him to take what she offered. “Yeah?”

He wanted to take and take hard. Maybe even crush her against him so she couldn’t move until he had his fill. “And…I should thank you properly.”

She made a quiet noise of regret and jerked her thumb toward the bar. “I should get back.”

“That’s smart and proper.” He grasped her hand and tugged her to him.

Her palms went to his chest as though to brace herself against the impact. Indecision played over her features before she held her breath. A second later, with a sigh, she pressed into him like before, but this time with no audience to play it up. His heart drummed out an unsteady beat as she settled against him, heating his blood.

“Thank you, Kate,” he murmured, brushing his lips over hers.

If he were honest, this is what he’d wanted to do that afternoon. Although kissing pretty, mouthy strangers was out of the norm for him now. He’d learned the hard way to be cautious. Letting himself be led by his dick had led him to women like Angeline.

Remembering that, he started to pull away, but she moaned. Kate and that sexy husk in her voice seduced him again in that short second. He drew her into him and nipped the corner of her mouth, first tasting the last of her lipstick and then just Kate. She moaned again.

He didn’t chase, not anymore, but that soft sound would be the makings of his next downfall. Quinton grasped her waist and tugged her closer to make sure every inch of her pressed against him.

She groaned, her hands curling into his shirt before she pushed him. His back hit the wall. He grunted at the twinge of pain…and the desire sparking within him. Instead of her pulling away as he had expected, she buried her hands in his hair, rising on the tips of her toes as though she wanted to climb inside him.

Fuck
. His heartbeat throbbed in his head and his cock. He nipped at her bottom lip again. He could taste her and a hint of whiskey. Quinton could get addicted.

Her lips parted, but before he could delve his tongue inside, she feathered hers over his mouth and then took a taste of him.
Fuck
. This is what he’d missed while being cautious—soft, pliant, willing women.

He slid his hands up to her breasts and drew circles along the sides with his thumbs until he felt her breath catch on another moan. He was right there on the edge of losing whatever common sense he had left. Only a nudge would do him in.

Fuck, he wanted to grind his pelvis into hers to make her moan again, to have that erotic sensation of her pussy rubbing up against his cock zing up his spine. His reservations could take a backseat if she were wrapped tight around his dick and milking him.

Common sense clung to his lust-soaked brain though. He’d been cautious for good reason. Quinton’s groan rumbled in his chest, the pained sound was filled with regret. He tore his mouth away.

The spark of something more darkened her eyes as her face lit with a glow. He called on his restraint to keep from bending down again to see where this could go, because her lips weren’t even swollen yet.

Quinton had to suck in a breath to steady that wild urge to kiss her again, harder and deeper. Kiss her until her lips were swollen and he knew with certainty his mouth had left her pussy soaking wet.

“Let’s consider that my drink of whiskey.” His voice came out gritty and deep. He didn’t care. “Now, I’ll take care of Bobbie to hold up my end of the deal.”

She blinked, settling back on her heels. He could see her common sense dribbling back in by slow degrees as the haze of their kiss cleared from her eyes.

“Right,” she whispered. “You wanted a drink in exchange.” She glanced down at her hands. They were fisted in his dress shirt again. “You should get back to your family, and I should go back too.”

He slid his hands down to her arse.
Lush
, his libido taunted. Quinton ignored the bastard. “I meant it. Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” Her tongue fluttered over her bottom lip as if she wanted to taste him again. “But if she’s the wedding planner’s assistant, you’re going to have to get inventive.”

Right. This was his life. His ex’s profession put her in the perfect position to find a steady stream of rich, notable bachelors. Fuck, it was how they had met.

He closed his eyes and tried to shift through everything that had happened that night just to pinpoint where he had screwed up. Aye, right. The mistake hadn’t been tonight, but four months ago when his brother had phoned to announce his wedding and that Quinton would be an uncle.

No. Maybe the initial mistake had been when he signed his first contract. He’d welcomed in the media, the money, and forfeited every ounce of his privacy.