He drank in every inch of her with a hunger that burned deep within him, his desire threatening to consume him entirely.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lachlan said, the words rushing from his lips as his brain short-circuited from her intoxicating sensuality. “The most fucking beautiful woman in the entire world. Fuck the world. In the universe.”
She smirked and circled him like a predator stalking its prey. She kneeled between his legs, her eyes smoldering with desire as she moved closer to his rock-hard cock. He moaned as she brushed her nails lightly against his inner thighs, trailing fire beneath her touch. He squirmed, wanting more but unable to move with his limbs effectively restrained.
Lachlan shivered as her breath trailed up his thigh, blowing air on his erection. He twitched involuntarily. A small smile crept over his face as he felt her hand stroke his cock, squeezing him ever so gently before moving away.
“Damn tease,” he panted, willing her to touch him again. “Aye, woman, get on with it, would ye.”
“Who’s in control, Lachlan?” With a raised eyebrow, she leaned back away from him, flooding his body with coolness from the absence of her closeness.
“You are, love,” he said quickly.
“Don’t forget it,” she snapped, then resumed her position between his legs.
This time, she didn’t tease him. She took him whole into her mouth without hesitation.His cock throbbed, every nerve ending on fire as she sucked and licked him with a hunger that matched his own. An insatiable need for more taking over his body. He bucked into the hot, wet heaven of her mouth and gritted his teeth to stop himself from climaxing too soon. This was her gift to him, and he wanted to savor every damn second of it.
“Bloody hell, I love you. Na’ just a wee bit, mind ye.” His Scottish accent became more pronounced. “I love ye so much, Britt.”
Teeth scraped against the sensitive skin of his cock, corrupting the pleasure flooding through his body. He jerked his hips away from her mouth, eyes flinging open as he stared into the crushed face of … Stacy.
Fuck!
She froze above him, her body tensing. "What did you just call me?"
He'd more than fucked up this time. Lachlan grimaced as guilt threatened to drown him. "I'm so... sorry, Stace."
"You called me Britt." Her voice was flat as she climbed off him, nearly tangling herself in the sheets. "Your dead girlfriend's name. While we were having sex." She snatched her robe from the chair. "Real classy, Lachlan."
"No, I didn't mean—" he struggled against the restraints, the silk scarves cutting into his wrists. "I just got ... confused." His response was lame as fuck, but what else could he say? Yes,Stace, as a matter of fact, the dead love of my life adored tying me up and fucking my brains out. I miss her so much that I imagined I was with her instead.
That would be beyond cruel and heartless.
Especially toward a woman he highly respected, who had been nothing but sweet and kind to him and his daughter. How could he have made such a stupid mistake?
"Confused?" She yanked the robe around her slight frame, tying it with jerky movements. "Oh, that's rich. Were you thinking about her the whole time? Is that why you wanted me to tie you up?" Her laugh was bitter. "What, did she do this better?"
"Stace, please?—"
"No, I want to know. Was this some kind of sick fantasy fulfillment?" She snatched her thong from the doorknob and stomped across the room to her discarded dress beneath the window. "Because I'm not interested in being someone's replacement fuck while they pine over their dead ex."
"That's not fair," he ground out, the guilt mixing with anger at her callousness. "She's the mother of my child?—"
"And I'm the idiot who thought three years was long enough for you to actually be ready for someone new." She stared at him in disbelief as she tugged her dress over her head and shoved her underwear into her purse. She swiped at a tear that trailed down her cheek. "I can't compete with a ghost, Lachlan. Especially one you're still clearly in love with."
Her last words were a dagger through his heart. He winced at the physical pain in his chest. He’d give anything to have Britt back. Sharing his life with her instead of struggling with how to move on from her death after all these years.
"I never asked you to compete?—"
"No, you just asked me to warm your bed while apparently fantasizing about her." She paused at the door. "You know whatthe worst part is? I actually believed you when you said you were ready to move on."
Getting over Britt was never going to happen. She owned a huge chunk of his heart. His love for her would never fade, but she was gone, and he’d believed enough time had passed to open up to someone new. To Stacy.
But he’d been fucking wrong.
“You’re an asshole, Lachlan!” Stacy yelled.
“Please, Stace. You might wake Paloma …” Lachlan pleaded.
