Page 62 of The Rescue

“Alright, Rab. Jesus, I was just dancing with her.” The Anderson guy shoots him a glare.

Fuck, I hope this doesn’t turn into a fight. I’ve never seen Rabbie talk to anyone like that, or even raise his voice. I don’t know why but it kinda turns me on. The Anderson guy lets go of my wrist and disappears into the crowd with his friends. I’m a little relieved that he’s finally gone, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get rid of him.

I don’t want Rabbie to know that I’m relieved that he’s just rescued me, I’m still mad at him. I glare at him and try to look as if I’m pissed off at him for ruining my fun with the Anderson guy.

“Rabbie. I was having fun dancing with him,” I huff.

“Not whilst you’re wearing my clan’s tartan, you’re not,” he steps in close to me.

“You don’t own me.”

“I technically do when you’re wearing that tartan,” he runs his finger under the tartan sash across my chest. His closeness leaves me speechless, he looks so handsome in his kilt and I’m trying to keep my cool, but my words fail me.

He gently grabs my hand and tries to pull me to the side of the dance floor. I see people out of the corner of my eye looking over at us. I can tell he’s trying not to make a scene, but I’m too mad at him to care about that.

“You could’ve owned me last night, but you were too chicken shit,” I hiss at him. I yank my hand out of his. I regret it the moment I did because his hands make me feel all types of things, one of them being safe.

He steps even closer to me now, I can feel his breath on my face as I look up at him.

“Crystal,” He says my name with warning.

I know he’s furious because he never calls me by my first name.

I cross my arms like a child having a tantrum. “I wouldn’t have worn it if you were going to go all clansman on me.”

I keep prodding him for a reaction, I need something from him. I need to know that he wants me as much as I want him, even after last night.

“What’s wrong? Are you jealous that I was dancing with another man? If I remember last night correctly, you’re the one who backed out. You don’t get to tell me who I can’t dance with. You don’t want me, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

He steps even closer now and we’re practically flush against each other, he looks down at me, and I see hurt in his eyes.

“I never said I didn’t want you,” he chokes out.

Well, shit.

People are craning their necks to look over at us, we’re face to face on the dance floor, and it’s obvious we’re having a heated discussion because we’re the only ones who aren’t dancing.Rabbie gently grabs my wrist, and pulls me through the crowd towards the exit.

I don’t give shit about small town gossip anymore, most of the villagers are staring at us, and taking quick glances over their drinks to see us bickering. I let him lead me outside into the cold crisp air. The air hits me in the face and suddenly makes me feel completely sober. I mean I only had one whisky, I wanted to keep a clear head for when I saw him.

He leads me away from the door of the parish hall, and down the side of the old stone building. He finally lets go of my hand. He swipes a hand through his hair as he looks around. I don’t know what he wants from me, I’m getting sick of trying to figure him out.

“Rabbie.”

His eyes finally snap to me.

“I’m so mad at yo–”

I can’t get out what I wanted to say before his hands are cupping my face and his lips are on mine. He kisses me hard with need, and I can’t help but melt into him. He moans as he grips my face. He slows down the pace, and his tongue swipes mine as he kisses me tenderly. I feel heady from his kiss, he’s so intoxicating. His hands are tangled in my hair and he gently pulls as he brings me closer to him. I’m too lost in the moment to remember why I’m mad at him, but then I’m suddenly reminded of last night. The humiliation I felt straddling him in my bra whilst he pushed me away.

I’m in deep shit. This man has me in a serious choke hold, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m trying to remain focused on why I’m so pissed off with him, but it’s hard when he kisses me like this. I’m trying to understand what’s going on in his head and have some patience with him, but then I’m reminded of the embarrassment I felt last night after he pulled away again.

I plant my hands on his firm chest, and break the kiss. A frustrated groan escapes his lips as he leans his forehead on mine. I can hear the turmoil in his head, the push and pull game he’s playing with himself is plastered on his face. He’s not getting away with what he pulled last night so easily.

“You can’t just drag me outside and kiss me like that, especially after last night,” I try to catch my breath.

I push him softly away from me. I need to create some space between us otherwise I’ll cave. He looks at me with sympathetic eyes, and I want to crumple at his feet and forget about last night, and the night in the hot tub.

“Last night was so humiliating, the rejection.” I look away from him, I can’t look him in the eyes.

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