“It had better have been his dirk or I’ll kill him.”
“That’s what he called it. I don’t know why men always feel the need to name it.” I tilt my head when Alex blasts out a loud rumble of laughter.
“A dirk is a long knife. See.” He holds up his own before sliding it back into the holder on his waist.
“It did cross my mind that it was a mighty persuasive reason why they have three kids.” I laugh, wiping my eyes on the back of my hands.
“Can we please naw continue tae discuss my brother’s bits on our wedding night? If he finds oot, we’ll never get his ego back in check.” We both start another round of laughter. Finally, when we can regain control, Alex asks, “Would ye like something tae drink? Rob stocked everything imaginable.” I listen as Alex crosses toward the kitchen. For some reason, he’s jingling.
“Water is perfect. Alex, why are you rattling?” He returns with two bottles of water. After taking a long drink himself he takes off his purse, handing it to me. “Your purse is full of silver coins? Why?” Alex spits out his water coughing.
“It’s a sporran, naw a purse. It’s like a wallet since I dinnae have any pockets. It also doubles as a really heavy codpiece.” I laugh, running my hands over the soft fur. Walking over to the table, I dump the contents out. Nestled inside Alex’s actual wallet is a pile of coins.
“Wait, there’s more.” Sliding his tartan sash off over his head, he shrugs off his waistcoat, handing it to me. It’s heavy with coins filling both pockets. I add it to the stack.
“Hang on, let me get the flashes off. They’re the only thing keeping more in my socks.” He tosses his garters on the table before sliding off a sock. When I turn it upside down over the table, more coins fall out. I quickly repeat the process with the second one. “I swear they’re everywhere.” He adds his cufflinks and tie to the flashes on the table. Looking at me, he grins as he pulls his shirt out of his kilt. Coins bounce to the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head, tossing it on the couch.
“How did you even walk?” I ask in amazement, looking around us. Reaching to the floor, I pick up one of the coins, turning it over in my palm. “Alex! There must be over a hundred coins.”
“I’m naw dan yet. One more place.” Reaching under his kilt, he shimmies out of his boxer briefs as coins bounce again on the floor. Wadding up his briefs, he tosses them onto the floor, raising his hands above his head.
“Ta-da! God, I hope I dinnae have them anywhere else. Some of the women from town got pretty aggressive.” I take a step back, raking over his body with my eyes as I laugh.
Holy fucking hell! I run my eyes back down his body, but much slower this time. Without a doubt, this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Alex is standing with his hands at his side, every inch of muscle down his chest and stomach defined in hard lines. The blue woven through the red in his kilt makes his eyes stand out like a summer sky. The long knife still strapped to his side makes him look like he just stepped off the cover of a steamy romance novel.
“Stay just like that. Don’t take off anything else,” I moan at him. He looks down at himself before snapping his eyes back to mine.
“Is there a problem?” he asks, his face looking stormy in concern. Boom! Even sexier! “Whit?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips, making his pecs tighten even harder. He takes a step toward me.
“Stop,” I say, placing a hand up. He steps back, raising his arms out to the side in surrender. My eyes run down his body one more time. “Turn around,” I tell him, making a turning motion with my hand. Rolling his eyes, he starts to spin around. “Slowly!” I bark out.
“Claire, whit are ye daein?” he asks when his back is to me in his slow turn.
“What, Alex? Do you think men are the only ones capable of eye-fucking someone?” I didn’t think it was possible, but there’s red creeping up his chest when he turns to face me.
“Damnit, Claire! Ye cannae say shite like that after my naw being able tae touch ye in a month. I’ll come all over this fucking kilt.” I grin at him, a giggle escaping me. “It’s naw funny! These damn things itch and I cannae take it tae the old lady at the dry cleaner covered in cum. It will be the main topic in town for a month.” Now I laugh out loud.
“Well if I have tae stand here half naked, it seems only fair ye dae too. Let me get this dress off of ye.” He searches until he finds the hidden zipper on the side, careful to not catch any of my skin as he works it down.
We add hundreds of pound notes to the coins on the floor as he slowly slips off my dress. “How did ye get money slid into this garter?” he asks with a scowl, looking up at me from his knees.
“Rory,” I answer. “She said it would drive you crazy thinking some cousin was feeling around under my dress.”
“Fucking Rory!” he grumbles. After slipping off my shoes, he stands, holding my hands so I can step out of the dress. “There’s money stuck all over ye,” he whispers in my ear as he reaches behind me, unhooking my corset, letting it fall to the floor.
“Here’s mine.” He holds up the hundred-pound note with Sir Walter Scott on it. Bending, he gently takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking it to a hard point before moving to the other one. I moan, grabbing onto handfuls of material covering his ass.
Stepping back, he asks, “Dae ye want me tae take it off?” I shake my head vigorously at him.
18
Alex
So, apparently my wife has a kink for a man in a kilt. Wait, that is it, right? “Ye dae want me tae fuck ye, aye?” I ask, relaxing in relief when she nods her head so hard I worry about whiplash.
“Ye want me tae fuck ye in my kilt?” A wicked grin slowly spreads across her face. Well, this is certainly a first for me. I’ve been asked before, but it was usually coming from a drunk barfly who I wouldn’t touch at any cost. We only wear these things on special occasions like weddings.
