Page 128 of Scotch on the Rocks

“Is that so? Then what’s that poking me in the arse?” She nudged her hips back, emphasising her point.

I grunted, angling my body to disguise it against her hip. “That is an unfortunate side effect of watching you thrive. I might have a praise kink, I’m so damn proud it’s turning me on.”

She laughed, hands covering her eyes. “That’s not what a praise kink is.”

I couldn’t care less. This was my version of a praise kink. “You can show me later,” I said, ready to move us on to safer subjects, like Hank’s spread of vol-au-vents or Fiona’s tentative new relationship with a tourist she’d met over Christmas, when Juniper pushed onto her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, “Meet me in room five in ten minutes.”

My mouth was still gaping as I watched her climb the stairs, a seductive sway to her hips. God, she fucking excited me.

Eyes on the clock, I made it to seven minutes. Heart and cock threatening to tear through my damn clothes to get to her as I took the stairs two at a time. The thrill of fucking her only a floor above the entire party urging me down the corridor.

Slipping through the door, I found the room quiet and dim, despite the early spring afternoon. Juniper had closed the curtains and spread out across the bed, head resting on her hand as she drew shapes across the coverlet. Absolute perfection.

“Alistair didn’t come today,” she said, eyes finding mine.

I stopped short, trying to place her tone. Talk about boner killer. “And you’re upset about that?”

“Not upset.” She shrugged. “Just a little concerned. He’s missed a lot of family events recently. Even your mum dropped by for an hour.”

I was worried about him too, he felt like a different person most days. There was something … sad about him now. Guarded.

He hadn’t returned to Glasgow. Other than to pack up half of his belongings and come straight back. I’d expected him to leave when things with Dad settled but he remained. Even going so far as to start working with Mal at the distillery and move into a small cottage on the outskirts of Kinleith. Anything that wasn’t strictly related to Dad, he found a last-minute excuse to bail.

None of us believed him, but we enjoying having him home too much to push him on the matter. And frankly, I felt like I had no room to pry into his business, so I let it go. Perhaps the time had come for me to push.

Loosening my tie, I stalked toward the bed. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Happy?” I balled the tie, dropping it beside her hip.

“Yes.” Juniper picked it up, running the dark green silk between her fingers. “Do I get to tie you to the bedpost now?”

I grinned and it felt exactly like us. A little vicious. A little out of control. “Later. First, I want your back against the door so everyone downstairs can hear it rattle.”

“Romantic.” She hopped to her feet, every line of her sleek and perfect.

“Romance is my middle name.”

“I thought it was Clive?”

“I regret telling you that,” I said, guiding her into position and flicking open the buttons of her shirt.

“You don’t mind when I shout it in bed.”

Pausing just as my favourite lacy blue bra came into view, I pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but, sweetheart, when I’m between your legs my dead grandmother could start tap dancing on the side table and I wouldn’t notice.”

“That is …” She squinted.

“Fucked up?”

“Weirdly hot, actually. You’re right, we should probably fuck against the door.” She curled her arms around my neck, readying to jump into my arms.

But I held her steady and dropped to my knees, tugging her trousers and underwear as I went, so she was gloriously bare to me. “Not so fast, I want to live up to my favourite alter ego first.”

She grinned, eyes dancing with that mischief that had drawn me in from the very beginning. Even when it shouldn’t. “Whatever you say, Ken.”

My eyes found hers, right before I licked her tattoo. “Dig those nails in my back and scream for me, harpy, I’m feeling lucky.”

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