Page 64 of Blindsided
“Aye, I’ve already called ahead. The owner is expecting us in thirty minutes.”
I squeal with delight and turn to drag Mac’s face down to mine. The kiss is a reflex at this point. We’ve spent two weeks together, never going a day without touching.
And regardless of my new, burning feelings, I don’t want what we have to end. “Let’s call this lesson ‘who can orgasm the fastest’,” I state excitedly as I begin to shed my clothes like they’re on fire.
Mac laughs and breaks free from me long enough to shut the bedroom door. “Actually, let’s call it ‘who can be the quietest’. This house is old, and the walls are paper thin.”
I bite my lip excitedly, and we set about completing our lesson. I call it a success when Mac only has to cover my mouth twice the entire time.
Who knew that watching Freya pet horses would turn me on so fucking much? Fuck, at this point, I should know that watching Freya do pretty much anything is going to turn me on.
She only looked slightly disappointed when she learned these were work horses and not meant for riding. When the farmer gave her a brush and asked her if she wanted to comb some of them out, I thought she was going to kiss the old coot.
Luckily, she didn’t.
I helped brush them some, but mostly, I just watched Freya positively light up as she put her hands on the beautiful animals. Kittens and horses make this woman bonkers. If Freya were my wife, I’d be a fool not to live on a farm and give her horses.
Not that she’d be my wife someday, of course. She can hardly stand me long enough to shag me for a month, let alone live with me for a lifetime.
Plus, something tells me that as much as Freya enjoys being with me, she doesn’t see me as the type of man she’d ever settle down with. And it was far too easy for her to agree to the end date of this arrangement. Freya Cook’s heart is firmly guarded indeed, just as mine is. I’m still focusing on my football career. And I refuse to let another woman mess with my game the way Cami did only a year ago.
I must stick to the thirty day end date. I’ll head off to training camp, and that will be the end of that. A clean break.
Freya and I head back to the house to get ready for dinner. I’m ready in ten minutes, so I head downstairs and leave her to do her makeup in peace. When I come striding into the small kitchen with its bright yellow walls and old wooden table, I smile when I see Roan sitting there, reading the paper like an old man.
“Aye, making yourself at home, I see,” I say, patting his shoulder as I move by him to the cabinet where my grandad always stores the whisky.
“Allie’s getting ready, and I can only watch her curl her hair so many times.”
I laugh as I pull down the amber liquid and grab two tumblers to join him at the wee table. “Don’t tell me the honeymoon is already over.”
I pour us both a finger and hand his over to him. He smells it and winces. “Ag, no. It’s not even started.” We clink our glasses and down our whiskies in one gulp.
“What about you?” Roan asks as I pour us another. “Haven’t seen you at the house in a couple of weeks. Allie is asking all sorts of questions, and I’m curious myself because the last time you and I talked, you were only going to be gone for one night.”
The corner of my mouth tilts upward. “Aye, well…things change, I suppose.”
“I suppose,” Roan repeats. “And this is still just a casual thing? Like how you were with Cami?”
“Different than Cami,” I state and sit back in my chair to sip the second whisky slower, savouring the smoky flavour before adding, “Freya and I have a clear, defined end date.”
Roan chuckles and shakes his head. “And you think that little detail is going to save you?”
I frown at him. “Aye, of course it will.”
Roan purses his lips in judgment. “You say Freya can’t stand you, but you’ve been at her place for two weeks, and you haven’t burnt the place to the ground, and she hasn’t kicked you out. You don’t think she’s starting to wish you’d stay there forever?”
I shake my head. “No. Not at all. Freya doesn’t look at me like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I say simply. “I was a means to an end for her, and now she’s using me to help build up her confidence. That’s all we’re doing here.”
Roan frowns. “Who are you trying to convince here, Mac?”
“You, because you’re the one with all the nosy questions,” I reply in agitation, gripping at my neck. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“I think you have feelings for her,” Roan states simply.
