Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)

Above and ahead of me, blue skies stretched out to the horizon. I’d been in Iceland for ten days now, staying with Jordie, Gordain’s friend, and sleeping in a bunkhouse with two other pilots, Gabe and Tommy. Training had been intensive, and today, I was taking a solo trip to explore an area I’d be flying over tonight.

In a storm.

With all manner of risky shite going on.

But this was what I’d signed up for. So far, the weather had been easy on me. I’d put in hours flying through light snow above a shimmering waterfall, being buffeted by a gentle breeze over a glacier, but Iceland had more in store for me.

Jordie had pulled me aside this morning and showed me the forecast. A major weather system was due to hit at midnight. The two of us would be in the centre of it, and I’d be practising the kind of manoeuvres I’d need in the mountain rescue. The worst-case scenario where a family member might be the one I’d need to save.

My adrenaline spiked in anticipation.

Instantly, my mind shot to Rory. It often did when I had any spare moment, or a flash of emotion, good or bad. Somehow my mind associated that with her now. She hadn’t taken me up on my offer of driving her to the airport and, though I’d had limited sleep that night, I’d eventually dozed off then woke to find her long gone.

I’d wished her a safe journey by text, and she replied presumably from the airport by simply sending me the last picture she taken of us together. On the beach at Balnakeil.

Like a sap, I’d saved the shot as my phone’s background.

Every time I saw it, I got a buzz of feeling, addictive and sweet.

Since then, we’d messaged a few times, so I knew her mother was eating again, but still, I wasn’t ready to let Rory go. No matter the fact she was thousands of miles away, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I didn’t try.

But the last two messages sent had been from me. She hadn’t replied, and I’d resisted sending another.

Ahead, I spotted a place Jordie had told me about. My stop-off point in the journey. A pristine snowy plateau edged up to a mountain and, beside it, clear, shallow pools of water steamed in the freezing air.

Iceland’s Highlands was full of geothermic surprises, and this wee pool had been sold to me as nature’s hot tub. I brought the Robinson R66 into a sweep then landed on the packed snow. In my time here, I’d learned how to assess a snow-covered landing site—something that I could only practice in winter at home.

Powering down the machine, I hopped out, crunching through the top layer of frost. Then I stripped my jacket, my jumper and T-shirt following, deposited onto the heli’s seat. Next, I trod out and back into my boots, shedding my jeans and underwear while trying not to freeze my feet.

There was naked, as I’d been advised to get, and then there was nuts.

One of the plus points of spending time in Iceland was mini adventures like this. A dip in a hot spring, bare-arse nude as the day I was born, and entirely alone in the last hour of daylight.

I closed up the heli, taking only my phone with me, then stomped through the snow to where it met the water. Steam drifted in plumes and swirls, the warmth melting the snowy edge in a strange combination of ice meeting fire. The thick sulphur scent that was becoming familiar permeated the air, and I stepped out of my boots and onto the warm rocks.

Tonight was going to be tough. I’d use this soak to try to relax ahead of the action.

As a last-minute thought before I immersed myself, I activated my phone’s camera and angled the shot to take in my body, a cheeky side view only, plus the incredible scene I was in. Then I tapped to send it to Rory, though it wouldn’t make it through until I got back onto Wi-Fi at Jordie’s place.

There was nothing for it but to stash my phone in my boot and to get into the pool. I curled my toes, gripping the rock. Warm water, almost hot, lapped at my ankles. On autopilot, I cupped my dick, then sat on a flat piece of volcanic stone, the water halfway up my chest and balmy. Instant relaxation eked out into my muscles.

Holy shite, but this was awesome.

I already knew I had the best career going, but this bonus activity took the biscuit.

For a long minute, I just basked.

A text tone sounded.

I snapped my head around to stare stupidly at my boot, then reached to grab it and extract my phone.

Rory: You poor thing. Looks like you’re working really hard.

How the fuck had she got my message? I barked a laugh then hit to reply, hoping that whatever satellites had aligned would stay that way for a few minutes longer.

Maddock: Is it cheesy to say wish you were here?

Rory: Totally. I’m just getting ready for a long day of work, and there you are, looking like that in a place no man should be alone.

A picture loaded. Rory with headphones on, sucking on the straw of what looked like iced coffee, and walking down a busy city street.

My heart gave an almighty thump.

Maddock: I miss you.

Then I deleted that for being overly sentimental and tried again.

Maddock: I’ve missed talking to you.

There was a long pause with no reply. I wondered if she’d been talking to my brother since being back in the States. Max was home now. Ma had messaged the previous night to say that he’d returned. He and I hadn’t spoken again, but I’d assumed he’d messaged Rory to find out how things had gone with her mother.

I rotated my phone in my fingers when it buzzed, a call incoming, Rory’s name on the screen.

Jerking upright, I answered. “Hey.”

“Hey to you, too. Got to say I’d rather be doing what you’re doing right now than pretty much anything else.”

“I’d rather you were, too.” I gripped the phone hard. “It’s really good to hear your voice.”

She clucked her tongue. “Yeah, sorry about that. I did love you and leave you, didn’t I?”

“Just a bit. Not that ye had a choice. I can’t believe we’re even able to talk right now. I’m in the middle of nowhere.” My pulse sped, my body’s reaction to her the same as it had always been, even just on the phone. “If the call drops, I’ll try and call ye back later.”

In the background of the call, traffic roared. Rory grumbled. “That’ll be good, but it’s super early here, and I’m heading into work. If I’m at my desk, I won’t be able to answer. This job is the worst, and my boss is a jackass.”

“What do ye even do? I know ye were applying for an internship.” All these little details about her I’d pondered in my idle moments.

“Ever since college, I’ve worked for a company that makes printed products. I do low-rent pieces of graphic design for clients. It’s endless drudgery, but I’m glad to have it. It pays the bills anyway.”

“How’s things at home?”

“Mom’s doing better, I think. The company she works for let her go, which sucks, so I’m supporting us both.” A moment of hesitation followed. “On the subject of the internship, I just had a reply from them offering me an interview.”

“That’s incredible. But of course they want ye. I’ve never seen anyone create art like yours.”

“I don’t think I can take the internship,” she confided, almost on a whisper. “To do it, I’ll need to put in twenty or more hours of work a week, on top of the forty-five I’m working for Bokeh. If I didn’t have to do everything for Mom, I could maybe manage with evenings and long days on the weekends. I’d be willing to give up everything else. Who needs a social life? But as soon as I got the interview request, I pictured myself driving her back and forth to doctor appointments, keeping the house clean and tidy so it doesn’t depress her further, taking her places, or watching TV with her because she doesn’t want to be alone. Do you know what the main issue is? I’ve been so worried about her, I don’t think I’ll have the brain capacity I’ll need to design something epic.”

“I understand. To be creative, ye have to have that space.”

“Exactly.” She drew a heavy breath. “I think I’ll have to turn them down. So I’m going to need full-body nudes from you to cheer me up.”

I grinned at the phone, not that Rory could see me, and an idea flourished. “I’ll send whatever ye want if you’ll send some back.”

“Are we talking sexting? Because hell yes.”

A trickle of heat slid down my spine, and my blood headed south. “Don’t torture me.”

“Would I do that? Hold up a minute.”

The sound on her end of the line changed, as if she’d left the street and gone indoors. Then the rush of a door being opened was followed by the click of a latch.

Her phone camera’s click of activation had me groaning.

“What the hell are ye doing?” I asked.

“Wait a minute then you’ll see.”

Rory clattered around wherever she was, then my phone bleeped with an incoming message.

“I sent you something to remember me by,” she told me. “I’m at the office now so I’ve gotta go. Sorry I’ve been out of contact, but these past weeks have been shitty, and I fucking missed you, too. Okay? So enjoy your peaceful oasis, and we’ll talk again soon.”

She hung up on me and, fast, I loaded the picture.

Onscreen, Rory had unbuttoned her shirt and exposed a lacy, pale-blue bra. A flimsy thing I wanted to tear into with my teeth. But more, her hand was inside her bra, cupping her delectable breast.

“Fuck,” I drawled and slid my hand under the water to my already half-hard dick.

Thoughts of Rory alone caught me alight. Talking to her added fuel to the fire. But her sending pictures like this? My body burned with awareness.

I gave myself a stroke, staring at the shot. If only she could be here, I’d strip her bare then worship those gorgeous tits and her tight pussy until she screamed my name to the mountains.

Picking up pace, I swept my thumb over the head of my dick.

I went to toss my phone back into my boot to get in with some double-handed action but paused.

Huh. Two could play at this game. She’d be stuck at her desk all day doing a job she hated. Maybe I could torment her a little in return.

Out of the water, I laid out on the warm rock shelf and angled my phone for a picture. Then I snapped it, hard dick, mountains, and all, and sent it to her.

I stashed the phone, jumped back into the pool, and worked myself to memories of the time we’d shared together. Her pretty smile, her gorgeous body, the way she’d come so sweetly when I was inside her.

I growled her name and came, Rory’s image forefront in my mind.

Chances were slim of us spending time together again, but doing this with her? I was all in.