Stolen (Wild Mountain Scots, #3)

We rolled up to Rory’s house a little after five PM, and I gazed with interest at the insight into this lass’s personal life. The single-storey made sense as her ma was in a wheelchair, and there were flowers in pots on the windowsill with a bird feeder hanging from a bush. Rory worked long hours, cared for her ma, and was pushing the boundaries to take on an internship. Yet she still found time to feed little animals and pretty the place up.

“Ignore the yard, it’s long overdue attention. I keep meaning to find a few hours on a weekend, but it hasn’t happened yet. Oh, and don’t look at the broken tiles on the roof. I bought new ones but haven’t had a chance to get up there.”

“It’s a sweet house. You’re super woman for all ye manage.”

The apples of her cheeks pinkened. “Stop. I know it’s nothing to your pretty cottage in the mountains.”

“A cottage I did nothing to aside from move in. Cait renovated and painted it all. I just so happened to like the colours she chose.”

“Your sister? She must be close to having her baby now.”

“Aye, after Christmas. I remember ye saying ye wanted bairns.”

Rory grumbled and climbed from the car. “In the distant future when my life is under control. Which means never. I want to have my career established before that. And be able to afford care for Mom. So you see, it’s kinda hopeless.”

Across the street, a furniture van sat outside a house, and a man in his fifties carried a box from the back. The neighbour shielded his gaze then waved at Rory.

She raised a hand in return. “Looks like they’re finally in. That couple have been working on the house for a week, getting it ready.”

The man strolled across the road. “Rory, am I right?

“Got it in one. Dustin and Carol,” she replied.

Dustin gave a huge grin. “That’s correct. I’ve met April, your mom, but who’s this?”

“I’m Maddock, just visiting for the weekend.” I shook the man’s hand, smiling at his commentary over my accent.

“It’s great to be in such a friendly community,” Dustin advised, returning his attention to Rory. “I know your mom is housebound, but her daily visitor always seems to cheer her up.”

Rory stilled. “Daily visitor?”

“Oh yes. The man who stops by. Usually mid-morning. He a relative?”

Though Dustin seemed oblivious, I knew Rory well enough to pick up on her discomfort. Information on this visitor was news to her, and she didn’t like it.

“My stepdad,” she said quietly.

“Ah, that’s right. Excuse the prior knowledge, but soon as I saw you, I recognised you for your famous sister. Any chance of the great Elise Darcy doing a movie soon? Maybe stopping by here?”

Both of us stiffened.

The exposure of Rory and Elise as sisters had been high-profile, and mixed in with Elise making a public statement about an awful situation she’d been in. This guy was blithely chatting on as if the subject of gossip columns was genuine conversation fodder.

Rory shook off her confusion and summoned a smile. “I can’t give out state secrets. Great to see you’re settling in.” Then she turned on her heel, effectively dismissing him, and we trod up to the house.

“Fucking rude,” I muttered.

She gave an exasperated growl. “Ever since those articles went live, people have talked to me about my sister like they know us. But that isn’t what pissed me off.”

“Your stepdad,” I supplied.

She stared at me for a beat, her hand on the door. “Exactly.”

“He shouldn’t be coming here.”

Rory’s slender shoulders sank. “He’s a waste of space and bad for Mom. She promised me she wasn’t seeing him anymore. She lied.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I have no idea.”

We entered the house.

“Hey,” I said low, “does she know I’m coming?”

“Sure, I told her yesterday. But she’ll probably be in bed and have forgotten.”

At her words, the rumble came of wheels on wood, and Rory’s ma rolled into sight. Sitting upright in her wheelchair, she smiled at me, her eyes bright and her features similar to her daughter’s. In every other way, they differed. Her ma was blonde and slight, blue eyes to Rory’s brown.

She moved closer and introduced herself, asking about my trip in a pleasant, kindly tone. “It’s so nice that Aurora has brought you here, Maddock. I never get to meet her friends, and she’s never invited a boyfriend over. I’ll be making fried chicken for supper so I hope you’re hungry?”

“Sounds amazing.”

She beamed then wheeled around and headed into the kitchen.

Rory stared after her, her expression one of confusion. “I can’t remember the last time she cooked. Or got out of bed, dressed herself, and was up when I got home.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the hall. “Just going to show Maddock to my room, Mom,” she called.

Inside the bedroom, she slammed the door and rested back on it.

My gaze landed on the artwork that decorated her walls—all of which I needed to look at closer—but then her bed, the scene that had haunted my memories from where I’d watched her on our video call. Rory with her vibrator, baring herself to me.

“Hey, is wee Maddock over here somewhere?” I strode to her bedside table.

Rory gave a weak snicker. “If you’re lucky, he might come out to play tonight.”

Sadness eked into her tone, and I stalled my teasing and returned to her side. With care, I palmed her face and tilted her chin to better see her eyes.

“Talk to me,” I said softly.

“Sure you want to know?”

“One hundred percent.”

“If Wade is the one making her happy,” she replied, “he’ll break her again, too. It always goes like this. He shows up and sweeps her off her feet. He’ll live here and play the devoted husband for a couple of weeks. Mom will soak him up. She’s always been crazy about him. But then he’ll lose his motivation to be nice, and the tables will turn. She’ll wait on him. He’ll drink heavily and disappear for a night or two. Then the arguments will start.”

She dropped my gaze but interlaced our fingers and led me to sit on the bed.

“My whole life, I’ve sat in this room and listened to the same pattern unfold over and over. The same arguments. Even when I lived away for college, I stayed close enough to return if she was really down. There’s nothing I can do to stop her freefalling back into his orbit. I know exactly how this will go, and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces after. Do you want to know the worst part?”

I stroked her fingers, hurting for her. “All of it.”

“She really believes that each time, it’ll be different. And she makes me almost believe it, too. Then she’ll go on a hunger strike or won’t get out of bed for a month. I’ve tried talking to Wade. I’ve yelled at him about Mom and told him exactly what he does to her, but he doesn’t care. The first time, I was maybe nine or ten, he backhanded me for my nerve. I told him I’d call the police if he did it again, and that’s probably the only time I’ve ever seen intelligence in him, because he never did. And now he’s back. He’s going to stomp all over Mom, and I’ll be waiting to do damage control. Again.”

“He hit ye? Fuck no,” I gritted out. “I want to smack the bastard down.”

“Hitting is easier to take than lifelong hatred. I was so relieved at age fourteen when I finally understood his anger came from me not being his. To be honest, though, I’m pretty sure he’d have made a lousy dad either way.”

I hugged her to me, because this was horrible. There was also a deeper message within it, too. Rory was trapped. By her mother’s blindness to the worthless man she loved. To her stepdad’s shite behaviour.

By the fact she was a good person and couldn’t walk away.

Rory accepted my hold for a minute, then shrugged me off and stood. She forced the pain from her expression and jutted out her chin. “Your orders, airman, are to look pretty while I help Mom make dinner, then fuck me senseless all night so I can forget this bullshit for a few hours. Sound good?”

“Rory,” I said.

She wheeled around and went to the door, no longer making eye contact. “I’d better get to her before she burns something. Feel free to take a shower or rest up.”

Then she was gone.

I dropped down to sit on her sheets, my mind awash with all she’d been through and how it must have affected her.

How I wanted to fix it all, even if I had no idea where to start.

Actually, maybe there was one tiny area I could help in.

Ten minutes after I’d started, Rory emerged from the front door, her hand up to shield her eyes as she regarded me. “I thought I heard tapping. What are you doing?”

On top of her roof, I held up a hammer I’d borrowed from her annoying neighbour. “No use me sitting around while I could be up here fixing the tiles.”

She popped her hands on her hips, her expression flitting between incredulous and something else. “You, who nearly froze on a mountain yesterday, just climbed up and got on with my roof repairs?”

I gave a happy shrug. “Easy job.”

“Easy job,” she muttered, her gaze coasting over my pretty decent patch-up. But she stopped fighting her smile. “Thank you.”

Warmth unfurled in my chest.

For a moment, I just soaked it up, enjoying Rory’s heated attention.

Then I stuck the hammer through my belt loops and jumped down, landing next to her. In a beat, I grabbed her waist and drew her in for a kiss.

“Fuck,” she whispered and pulled me closer, her hands snaking around my neck.

This I would never get used to. The heat, the perfect fit, the rightness of it all.

It was only the throat-clearing interruption from the neighbour that broke us apart. Rory fled back to her mother, and I returned the tool, a whole new kind of happiness renewing me.

Over dinner, Rory picked at her food but maintained a chatty front. I answered questions on my job and training but turned the subject to Rory’s art. On the wall, framed paintings displayed her work from when she was practically a bairn up to teenage years. Her mother was clearly proud.

The woman recounted how Rory had always been engrossed with art. I couldn’t stop myself staring at the lass.

I wanted to get under her skin, but the conversation in her bedroom had included a warning. A back-off statement so I understood what this was between us.

I could be what she needed. But I wasn’t so sure I could stop my own thoughts from wandering to what-ifs and maybes.

At nine, her ma struggled into her wheelchair then rolled to her bedroom, just off the lounge. She waved away Rory’s offer of help, leaving us alone.

“She’ll take her meds and be dead to the world in thirty minutes,” Rory said. Her gaze drifted up my body. “Tell me, do I need to grab the car keys?”

“What for?”

“Are we going to need to go out somewhere public for you to get excited?”

My laugh came out strained. “Naw, I told ye I’ve never done anything like that before ye. I like sex, but never got up to anything that exciting until ye.”

She propped a shoulder against the doorframe, a small smile forming. “Me neither.”

“Then it’s an us thing,” I added. “Come here.”

“Bedroom.”

She turned and flitted away, and I leapt up and pursued her.

In her room, Rory flipped on a lamp and drew the blinds while I closed us in.

“Those pictures we’ve been sending, the positions,” she started.

I prowled over to her. “If we remember them, aye, we can do whatever ye please. All I know is that I need to touch ye. Pretty sure I’ll die if I don’t score another kiss from your perfect mouth.”

Her smile reduced, and she gave a shake of her head. “Don’t be sweet with me. I don’t think I can handle it. Throw me around, make any demands you want, but I’ve been overemotional for a couple days now, and if you start being kind, I might do something stupid.”

“Like what? Fall in love with me?”

“Maddock?”

“Aye?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

I caught her by the waist and set my arse down on the bed, bringing her to stand between my legs. Then I guided her mouth to mine. Rory uttered a soft moan and tilted her head to perfect our connection, her hands cupping my face before running into my hair.

For a head swimming moment, I closed my eyes and lost myself in her.

But when she reached for my waistband, I broke the kiss. “For the next half an hour, I’m just going to kiss ye, keep things light until we know your ma won’t overhear us.”

I boosted myself back until I was against her headboard, then I patted the space between my spread legs. “I repeat, come here.”

Rory knelt on the bed then crawled into my waiting arms. She claimed she didn’t want tender, but our resulting kiss was only that.

In the way we’d never had time to before, we explored each other. Our mouths moving together with insistent presses. The little sounds Rory gave up drove me wild. In no time, I was hot and hard for her, but everything else would have to wait.

The delay only heightened the feelings.

She stretched against my welcoming body. Like me, she seemed content to relax and just kiss me. I had no idea if she knew, but her soft caresses, her knuckles down my cheek, her featherlight touch on my chest, were the opposite of the savage taking she’d demanded.

She ducked to explore my throat, travelling her lips to under my ear. Rory breathed in, as if the scent of me did something for her. My own breathing came hard, and I grumbled when she backed off.

With her palms to my jean-clad thighs, Rory gazed at me.

“I’ve only ever treated kissing as a lead-in to sex. I like this. Pretty sure I’m more turned on now than if we’d been fucking the whole time.”

I reached and traced a finger over her mouth, her lips pouty from our efforts. Likewise, her eyes had a hazy expression that I’d seen on her after sex, and really liked seeing before.

“More,” I demanded.

Rory gave a groan of agreement and leaned in to French kiss me as if her life depended on it. Her tongue met mine, and her fingers curled into my T-shirt, bunching into fists.

“The coast will be clear now,” she said.

“Dinna care. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

A laugh was my answer. She grabbed the hem of her top and stripped the item over her head.

Holy fuck.

I stared at her rounded tits, at the lacy bra that barely contained them. “Pretty sure I’m obsessed with your tits,” I admitted. “Way too many times, I found myself thinking about them, or your face, or your laugh.”

She bit her lip. “Obsessed, huh? Want to fuck them?”

Hormones surged, and I closed my eyes. “Yes. At least to plant that image in my brain for future use when I’m not with ye.”

Rory reached for her drawer and brought out a bottle. Lube, I identified. She unclipped her bra and gestured at my shirt. “Off.”

I snapped to obey, tearing my shirt over my head and tossing it across the room.

Then I reached for my jeans button, but Rory batted my hands away.

“My job. I plan to drive you insane.”

“Already there, gorgeous.”

She bit her lip over a smile and unbuttoned my jeans and drew down the zip. I wriggled out of them, my boxers, too, and let Rory pull them off my legs. Her gaze took in my heavy cock which bobbed for her attention, and she licked her lips. All that was left between us was her short skirt and underwear.

“Ye have no idea how beautiful ye are,” I told her.

Rory sat on her haunches, then slid her knees to one side. “That’s because I’m sitting here wet and willing to fuck you seven ways to Sunday.”

I shook my head, ready to deny it. But Rory had already moved on.

She uncapped the lube, then drizzled it over the valley of her breasts. “I’m a little tender from earlier, so I’ll take this slow.

“Can I touch ye?” My voice came out strained.

The lass cocked her head. “Hmm. No. Hands behind your head.”

I groaned again, and my dick hardened all the more. Either side of my head, my biceps bulged, my whole body tight and ready for action.

Rory ducked and laid a kiss on the underside of my dick, then fitted her mouth to the end and sucked me.

I stifled a shout and closed my eyes for the briefest of seconds while sensation overwhelmed me.

“I love your cock,” Rory said. With her fingers, she rubbed the lube across her breasts, squeezing her nipples.

“I want to do that,” I said with urgency.

She waggled her eyebrows. “Tough.”

On her knees between my spread legs, Rory bent forward and, in a fast move, encased my dick between her tits. I choked on a groan, the warm, soft sensation too fucking nice. My hips moved of their own volition, and I slid my cock back and forth a few inches.

Rory peeked at my face. “This is fucking hot, but you can’t see from the angle. Wait up.”

She sat up, pondering. “I think I need to be on my back. Let’s try that.”

Lying back, she palmed her tits, the slippery lube glistening in the lamplight. “Hands either side of me, then bring your cock to me.”

I loomed over her on my hands and knees, then shifted my position until I got myself exactly where she wanted me.

Now, I could see everything. Rory guided me, assisting the base as she thrust my shaft between her soft tits.

My groan came out indecent. The sight burned into my retinas. “Fucking amazing,” I uttered.

Rory gave a dirty laugh.

I jacked my hips a couple of times, fascinated with this new act.

“On the cold winter nights, alone in your cottage, I want you to remember this,” she said.

It was on the tip of my tongue to confess that I’d never forget any part of our time together, that each conversation or touch left me only wanting more, but I stifled the emotion and switched tack.

“Need to fuck ye,” I told her. “I want nothing more now than just to slide down your body and fuck into ye until we both see stars.”

A flare of heat rolled over Rory’s expression. “I’m on birth control, and when I finished out college, they offered testing to all students. So I know I’m clean.”

A swell of lust surged. I hadn’t meant that—I’d only ever used condoms and thought I always would until I settled down. But my words came anyway. “I’ve been tested, too. And I’m good.”

She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Then do it.”

I dropped down for a long, languorous kiss, and lifted her skirt with one hand. Then I grabbed her underwear and slowly pulled the offending clothing over her arse.

Then I adjusted my position to take in the view.

And saw red.

Literally.

“What is it?” Rory asked at my hesitation.

“I think you’re bleeding,” I said.

“What?” She leapt back and took a peek before cramming her thighs closed. “Oh shit! I got my period. You have to be kidding me. I’m not due for days.”

With a frustrated squeak, she rolled off the bed and reinstated her skirt, backing away to the ajar bathroom door off her bedroom. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to see that. I’m so sorry.”

I watched her. “Why? I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

I jumped up and padded over, entirely naked and my dick pointing at her. “Nope. Cannae say this has ever crossed my mind before, but that’s the same with everything we do. I don’t want to stop.”

Rory blinked and pressed into the doorframe. “You’re still good to go? Even though I’m…” She gestured down her body. “Because seriously, Maddock. I’m super horny and crying inside at the thought of not having you. But at the same point, that is going to be gross.”

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Still don’t care.”

“Shit.” She turned her head to give me better access. “I’ll grab a towel for the bed. And a condom for you so it’s cleaner.”

“Dinna give a fuck about that. Now I have the idea in my head of going bare, I need it.”

“Okay, maybe I have a better idea.”

I pulled back to witness a gleam in her eyes.

“Tell me. Whatever it is, I’m down.”

“Shower,” she said on a breath. “But with one condition—you have to keep your eyes closed at the end so I can clean up.”

“Done.”

Rory spun around into the bathroom, switching on a light and the shower as she went. I prowled after her, unable to keep my gaze off her body. She opened the glass door and tested the water. Then she turned back to me.

“No peeking first either.”

I complied, giving her the privacy she needed. The door clanked, something was opened and shut.

“You can look now.”

I stared. Standing under the water, with the hot spray cascading over her, Rory was nude. The first time I’d seen all of her in real life. Full tits with hard nipples, a tight waist over a curvy arse. On her hip, the tattoo of a robin stood out, and my moment of being utterly stunned broke.

“Christ, woman. You’re so fucking beautiful,” I managed.

She didn’t answer, her brown eyes trained on me, and uncertainty mixed with feverish need in her expression. I closed the distance, shutting us both in the narrow cubicle. Instantly, Rory’s arms went around my neck and our mouths met. Warm water sluiced over us.

I’d been serious about not caring if she bled on me. I was pretty sure I’d die if I didn’t get to do this with her. Without pause, I slid my arms around to lift her by her thighs into my arms. She gave a short huff of breath then wound her legs about my waist.

Then my greedy lass reached between our bodies and lined my dick up with heaven.

With a single, slow thrust, I sank inside her.

“God,” Rory moaned. Her forehead hit my shoulder, and she gripped on to me. “How, how is it so good with you?”

Words were lost to me. I could only feel the tight squeeze of her around my dick.

The rate at which my heart sped.

The pure rightness of the moment.

Pushing her against the wall, I lost all control. Excitement leapt, and I jacked my hips, fucking into my lass like I was saving our lives. Pinned by me, Rory took every inch, every hit, her mouth trailing kisses over my shoulder.

Steam rose around us in billows. Water filled my eyes, and I blinked it away, not wanting to miss a second.

In a few minutes, Rory keened with pleasure. Lust and the need to come inside her surged.

I grabbed the shower off the holder and held it between us.

“Change the speed,” I demanded, my voice rough.

Rory got my meaning and didn’t hesitate. She flipped the lever so the water pulsed out in a fast stream.

I put space between our bodies to give her room to move, and she aimed the water at her clit. It hit me, too, the base of my dick getting the same needle-prick sensation.

I gasped and kept up my thrusts, stifling my urge to let go.

“Fuck,” Rory moaned. “Oh, fuck, Maddock!”

With a muffled scream into my shoulder, she dropped the shower and came. Now, the water hit my legs, but I could focus on nothing but the sweet way Rory tightened around my dick.

Her ragged breathing evened out, and she lifted her head to grin at me, her gaze hazy. “Your turn.”

If she expected me to go off like a rocket, I had other plans.

I nudged to bring her gaze back to mine, then kissed her, keeping eye contact as I built up a steady pace once more.

Rory looked away so I did it again, holding her in place with one hand, and the other to her face to grip her chin.

Rory’s grin dropped, and curiosity flickered before she closed her eyes together, blocking me out.

The lass feared intimacy.

I felt it, too, the uneven, alarming nature of baring your soul to another. It went way past sex and into another realm.

Somewhere I shouldn’t try to go.

But I couldn’t stop myself either. Didn’t want to.

My climax neared, my muscles shaking.

“Rory,” I uttered, barely audible over the splash of water.

She shook her head, so I tried again, brushing my thumb through the droplets of moisture on her cheek.

“Look at me.”

“Why?” Even as she said the words, she opened her eyes.

A whomp of sensation hit, the connection I wanted delivered, and my orgasm smashed into me. I shook. My muscles, held so tight, ached. My breathing came hard.

I thrust into her twice more then stilled, fucking bliss shooting through me. I said her name, but my eyes shuttered closed, out of my control.

Still, I held on to Rory, my head buried next to hers.

It took a long moment for either of us to surface.

“That was—”

“Remember our deal. Keep ’em shut,” Rory ordered, cutting me off.

Some tone played out in her voice that I didn’t understand, but I let her slither from my arms. Then the water returned, and she rinsed me over, taking time cleaning us both up.

When I finally got to see her again, she’d pulled on a raggedy dressing gown, a towel held out for me.

Her gaze held a warning, and I dried off without a word. In her bedroom, she ran a hairdryer for a few minutes, and I watched her from her bed, under her sheets.

Finished, Rory climbed onto the mattress and chewed her lip. “Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Sex voodoo. I don’t know.”

I stretched out and brought her into my arms. She gave no resistance, settling against me like she was made to be there.

Maybe she was.

Except I had no idea how.

As sleep took me under, I started to understand the battle I’d have if my brand-new wish was to come true.

If I wanted to keep Rory, one of us had to change everything.

And I was ninety-nine percent sure that after I left, the lass would ghost me for fear of that change being hers.