Page 59 of Scotch & Dreams

He cocked his head. His eyes answered in the affirmative. She’d come this far. She wasn’t going to miss out on the four-hundred-year-old scotch recipe just because she didn’t have a glass. She did as he said, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth for him. He held the copper whisky thief above her and let the light amber liquid slowly drip into her mouth. She closed her eyes and revelled in the flavours that slid over her tongue.

Tilting her head back up, she saw his eyes drop to her neck as she swallowed. There was a wild hunger in his eyes, not unlike a tiger eyeing its prey, and god help her, she liked this feral Lachlan.

She dipped her head back slightly and opened her mouth again, and he allowed more scotch to drip in. The last drop hit her lips as she closed her mouth to savour the dram. She licked the smoky sweetness from her lips, all the while watching Lachlan as he watched her. She didn't know which of them was more mesmerized.

He brought the copper above his own mouth, allowing a good mouthful to pour in, and his eyes landed back on her. It felt as if he couldn't bear to look away from her for too long.

“Liquid gold,” she said, seeing the pleasure soften his handsome features as he swallowed. “How old is this one?”

“This one," he said, putting a hand on the old barrel, "is sitting currently at thirty years.”

"Wow, that's old.”

Lachlan chuckled. "My da had it casked when my brother Alex and I were born."

Violet laughed. "Let me clarify, it's old forscotch.”

"We have two barrels of a whisky that has been aging in sherry casks for sixty-nine years.”

“No way!”

“Aye. We hope to get it to seventy-five years, and we'll see what's left after the angel's share.”

“Angel's share?" Violet thought back to Andy talking about the magical healing powers of the hidden whisky.

"It's the whisky that evaporates over time, but we ken 'tis heaven's angels having their fill," he said with a playful wink.

"Aww, I love that. Maybe your great nan and Helena sit together and enjoy a sip or two." Violet smiled up at him, but Lachlan's expression grew serious. She suddenly regretted her words. She hadn't meant to be insensitive. Lachlan's eyes seemed to be penetrating her soul. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—“

"Ach, my wee Canadian, always apologizing. Dinnae, V. I've never thought of it before. I honestly dinnae ken if I believe in angels, but somehow, I can see those two in my mind’s eye cackling over a wee dram, bletherin' away. It's a nice thing to think. Thank ye.”

Violet was relieved. She never wanted to upset Lachlan. She definitely had a crush on the man, but she also had grown to care about him. "How old is your oldest bottled whisky?" she asked, now more curious.

He raised his brow. "We have a small batch of bottles from 1888."

"Wow, now that is old. Have you ever opened a bottle?”

“Aye, we did one year. It was the new year before Helena died. It was one of the last times I remember us all being together as a family. It was such a celebration. We all took great pleasure in finally opening one of the bottles and sampling its nectar, and God, it was so pure and delicious. Unlike any I’ve know before or since.”

“That is so special that you were all able to share in that moment together.” Violet touched his arm in comfort, but all she could feel was his rock-hard bicep under his tux. The air suddenly seemed thicker. Sexual tension arose between them. His eyes were on her, hunger rippling on their blue surface.

“More lass?” His burr was deep.

She grinned, tilting her head back and opening her mouth, now accustomed to the process, and he let the scotch spill past her lips.

She swallowed and opened for more, savouring the flavours and the heat as it rolled down her throat. Then he closed off the cask and dropped the whisky thief nearby before one of his big hands gently held the back of her neck, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. He searched her eyes. She knew she should stop this, but she couldn't, and she didn't want to.

There was a longing in the way he looked at her that made her desperate to answer his need. Violet was completely immersed in the moment. All thoughts of making an escape evaporated. She wanted whatever was going to happen next. She couldn’t deny it or fight it. With his other hand, he held her face. He ran a thumb over her lightly parted lips. She could barely breathe, though her heart raced. She needed his kiss so badly.

“Ye are stunning, V.” His voice was thick with desire.

As if seeing and hearing her heart's desire, his lips crooked up to the side in a smile that was her undoing. Her heart skipped a beat as he lowered his lips to hers. The touch of his mouth on hers rocked her world. She was scorched. Even though they’d kissed before and that had been pretty damn amazing, this kiss was mind blowing. Perhaps because now, she really knew the man. Perhaps because there had been a tension between them for so long, or perhaps because this time,hewas kissing her. She hadn’t realized until now just how much she desperately wanted him.

His lips lingered on hers, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. They’d kissed before, but this was very different. She’d barely known him then. There was so much longing and need built up now. The feel of Lachlan Mackenzie actually kissing her was earth-shattering.

His lips had gently teased against hers before pressing more firmly. Lips tangling with each other. He pulled away briefly to look into her eyes again as if confirming that she wanted this too. And she did—god, she really did.

With a low growl, he took her mouth in his again, sliding his tongue against hers. He kissed her harder, deeper, like kissing her was the only thing keeping him alive. Violet had never been kissed like this. It was all-consuming. She opened her mouth to him, craving more and more, and he plunged his tongue deeper, ferociously tasting her. Her body thrummed for him.

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