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Until I’d met The Beast.
The last two days of pent-up lust since first meeting him had me shamelessly rubbing myself against his body, desperate for as much contact as possible. His hands slid over my bottom and he ground his hips into me.
Oh, my. He was hard.
He ended the kiss with a grunt and stepped back, one hand still on my hip. With the other, he ran rough fingers over his lips, looking dazed.
“Whisky Girl,” he croaked. “Fuck… that was…”
“Amazing,” I whispered, still against the brick wall. My knees were shaking and I wasn’t sure if I could stand independently yet.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Amanda.”
He smiled but it was fleeting. “Whit are ye doin’ here?” he frowned.
His tone suggested I wasn’t allowed to be in Oban’s train station. I stared at his fierce eyes, full lips and his jaw covered in scruff. How those eyes and mouth had featured in my dreams more once since the whisky bar two days ago.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I matched his tone. “Are you… following me?”
“I was aboot tae ask ye the very same thing.”
I blinked again. “Um, what?”
“My accent.” He cleared his throat. “I tone it down when I travel for work. It’s stronger when I’m at home.”
“Home?” I looked around. “You live at a station?” Maybe he worked for the railways.
“I live in a flat like an ordinary person.”
“You might live at that colosseum thing on the hill, for all I know. One can’t be quite sure.”
He gave me an amused look. “Ye mean the Tower?”
“What tower?”
“Never mind.” He shook his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry but I’m here to meet some big wig from London off the train. On business.”
He snatched his hands away from me as if he had just touched a hot stove.
“So I cannae be kissing and arguing with an Australian woman, nae matter how pretty or ehm… brightly dressed.”
“Hey! This coat is a little ray of sunshine when the weather isn’t giving you any.” I stood away from the wall and waved a hand down my outfit. “Did you seriously just insult my clothes?”
His brow furrowed into that distinctive scowl of his.
“I’m not insultin’ your clothes! Ye look incredible!” His voice boomed off the brick walls. “And that kiss was… it was just as I thought it would be, and more.”
He said I was beautiful on Sunday night.
The small voice niggled at the back of my mind. I pushed the pesky thought away. I was lost in his dark eyes, thinking of how his hands felt clasped around my hips.
Of eating Christmas pudding…
He looked around, puzzled. “But this station is a wee place and you’re all that’s left of the passengers.”
“Maybe they left without you.” I touched my lips. Shit, my lipstick must be a mess! “I, too, have to meet someone. My client is due to meet me. From the Gallanach Distillery.”
