I glance back over my shoulder. “Sorry. I just can’t help it.” I tilt my hips in shameless invitation.
He rumbles low in his chest, then shifts. His hand presses between my shoulders, guiding me down until I’m braced on my elbows, ass tipped high. The new angle has him slamming deeper, and with every hard thrust I come apart.
The moan that tears out of me is louder this time, helpless as my climax crashes over me in waves. My body clenches around him, every nerve ending on fire.
“Blair!” he tries to scold, squeezing my ass, but the breathless way he says my name betrays him. He picks up the pace, hips snapping harder until, with a broken groan, he comes hard inside me. I feel every pulse of him, milking him for all he’s worth until we’re nothing but trembling limbs and ragged breathing.
Later, tangled in his sheets and held close against his chest, reality creeps back in. “I should go,” I murmur.
But when I shift to move, his arm tightens around me, possessive. “No. Stay with me tonight.”
“But Finn?—”
“I’m up before he is. You can slip back then.”
The warmth of his bed, the strength of his embrace... it’s too tempting to resist.
“Okay,” I whisper, sinking back into him.
Saturday
“Logan Fraser, get your sister’s foot out of your mouth this instant!” Douglas bellows across the chaos.
I’m at a table with him and Struan, watching the mayhem in the ball pit unfold. The familiar cocktail of warm plastic, sugary snacks, and overheated kids hangs in the air, underscored by a symphony of squeals and crashes.
Logan releases Rosie’s ankle with a guilty grin. All four kids are deep in some elaborate shark game, with Logan taking his predator role very seriously. Finn surfaces nearby, giggling as he “splashes” through the multicoloured balls. Isla, meanwhile, perches on the edge, apparently the designated lifeguard—not that she’s doing much to stop the shark attacks.
“So, Blair,” Struan says, leaning closer to me. “Is our boy Lachlan still being his usual grumpy, moody self with you?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Um . . . no, actually. He’s been . . . fine lately.”
Douglas and Struan exchange a look.
“Hehasbeen in a good mood lately,” Struan agrees. “Almost like he’s finding some kind of release that’s putting him in a better state of mind.”
My cheeks flame as the implication hits home. Oh God. They know. They absolutely know what’s going on between us.
“What did I miss?” Lachlan asks, returning with a tray laden with juice boxes and cups of the barely drinkable coffee.
“Um...” I clear my throat, avoiding his eyes. “Well, I think the secret is out.”
Lachlan looks from Douglas to Struan, both smirking like they’ve uncovered the scoop of the century.
“Brilliant,” he sighs, setting down the tray.
Friday
My fingertips trace lazy patterns in the hair on Lachlan’s chest, his heartbeat racing hard beneath my hand. We’re a tangle of limbs on his bed, both of us still breathless from the night’s exertions.
“Well,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone, “someone was particularly enthusiastic tonight.”
His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. “Aye? And what about the lass who was gripping the headboard like her life depended on it?” His fingers trail down my bare arm, teasing.
I’m about to reply when footsteps sound in the hallway. We freeze, listening. The soft pad of feet, moving closer to the bedroom door.
“Shit,” Lachlan whispers, lunging for his pyjama bottoms.
I dart for the bathroom, snatching my robe from the floor as I go and pulling the door shut behind me. It’s pitch black inside—I don’t dare risk the light.
