AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"No. Ugh, yes." I dig the mobile out of my purse and check the new text. "It's Aidan. He says...run away to America with Gavin. We all agreed you should."
Gavin grabs my mobile and types on the screen, then hands the device back to me. "There. I made the decision for you, so you couldn't come up with reasons not to do it."
I should be very annoyed with him, but instead, I grin. "Let's get on the bloody plane before Lachlan realizes what he's done."
"Thought Aidan texted you."
"Aye, but Lachlan would have told him to do it."
Gavin steals my mobile again so he can dump it into my purse. Then he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me up the stairs and into the jet. I'd only ever flown in this jet twice, when I went to America on a trip that would change my life and when Aidan and I had to go home. Since I don't have a job right now anyway, I might as well go away with Gavin.
The co-pilot emerges from the cockpit and seems not the least confused that I'm on board. One of my brothers must have alerted the pilots. Once the co-pilot has shut the door, he disappears into the cockpit again.
Gavin takes my hand, leading me to a sofa, and we both sit down. "What was that thing you said when your phone pinged you?"
"What thing?" I suddenly realize what he's asking. "Oh, you mean the phrase I used. Mhac na galla means 'son of a bitch.' It's a Gaelic curse."
"I see. That's cool." He slings an arm across the sofa's back and leans in closer. "Got any dirty Gaelic phrases?"
"Oh, aye. Want to hear some?"
"Absolutely."
I lean toward him to whisper, "This jet has a bedroom."
"Let's go in there, so you can talk dirty Gaelic to me in private. That will probably wind up with us fucking."
I pretend to pout. "That would be just awful."
We retire to the bedroom and spend a good portion of the six-hour flight to Minneapolis in that room, shagging and laughing, while I teach Gavin all the dirty Gaelic words I know. By the time we reach our destination, he has become quite good at pronouncing Gaelic, and I love the phrases he has chosen to use. Rory had arranged for a limousine to pick us up at the airport and drive us to Gavin's wee apartment.
He winces as he opens the door and seems to be delaying, as if he worries I'll run back to Scotland once I see his home. But he finally swings the door open, and I walk inside.
Gavin shuts the door, leaning back against it while I explore the small space.
When I'm done, I face him. "Ahmno horrified, Gavin. You can relax. This is a cozy apartment. You even have a comfortable recliner."
"Yeah, but you're used to living in a castle."
I approach him, settling my hands on his chest. "I love you, Gavin. That means I would live in an igloo in the arctic to be with you."
He relaxes and almost smiles. "You're really not disgusted with my tiny, cramped, rundown hovel?"
"Not in the least." I take his hand, leading him over to the twin-size bed. "I'm sure we can both fit on this mattress. Let's make love."
He grins.
And we both undress. He insists on giving me plenty of foreplay, though I would've been fine with going straight to the shagging. I love that he wants to give me more than a quick poke. Gavin genuinely worries about my pleasure. And when he uses a bit of dirty Gaelic, I grow so aroused that I dinnae know how much longer I can wait to have him inside me.
He kneels over me, straddling my thighs, and skims his hand up and down his stiff cock. "Damn, Jamie, you are so beautiful. Need to push my bigealais inside your baltan and fuck you until I caith."
I know he will always make sure I come before he does. I don't need to hear him say the words. We make the wee bed creak in an erotic rhythm that matches our movements, and when we come at the same time, it feels like destiny.
Dinnae care how bloody stupid that sounds.
A few days later, I go home.
I'd love to say that in the following months our relationship remains rock solid and angst-free. But lying to myself won't help matters. Our long-distance romance comes with hiccups and false starts and a growing sense that we're drifting away from each other. I dinnae want that. Gavin doesn't either, I know. But we can't seem to find our way back to those easy, sweet days in Michigan when everything seemed perfect.
