Page 41 of Kilty Plea
Paytonknewhe looked like a monster from a child’s tale. And she’d made it clear from the beginning she was trading her favors—offering her body, going down on her knees—in trade for helping her find her brother. Last night, in fact, she’d only reached for him out of obligation.
But Christ Almighty, he could still taste her.
Feeling her come apart like that, catching her desire on his tongue…Payton didn’t think he’d ever be the same.
When he was back at court, surrounded by fancy ladies who sniffed haughtily when he glared at them, he’d remember that taste. He’d pull out his cock and stroke himself, remembering the way she’d called his name and come apart on his face.
Just the memory of the way her exquisitely tight passage had squeezed his fingers kept him hard for the last few miles.
His brother Daniel met them in the courtyard. “Payton!Thereye are!”
Payton refused to feel guilty about escaping this chaos for a bit. “Da kenned where I was off to. Is aught amiss?”
“Nay.” Daniel planted his hands on his hips—his cassock covered by a simple cloak—and glared. “ButIdidnae ken where ye were when yer visitor arrived, asking for ye. Since when are ye friends with holy men?”
Smiling, Payton swung Flora down from the saddle and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Get out of the cold, lass. I’ll deal with my brother.”
Chagrined, Daniel offered an abbreviated bow. “Lady Flora, apologies.”
She offered his brother a small smile, sent a look toward Payton he couldn’t identify, then nodded and hurried toward the main doors.
Payton watched her go, appreciating the swish of her skirts around her rear end—he couldn’t help remembering how it had felt to cup that arse—and then sighed and turned back to his brother.
“Now, what were ye saying? Ye’re the only holy man I dinnae mind spending time with. The rest of them are judgmental bores.” Seeing his brother about to argue, Payton hurried to ask, “Ye’re certain he was looking for me?”
“TheMacIntyre Hunter, he said.” Daniel seemed harried, running his hand over his tonsured head. “I’ve been running ragged up here, otherwise I would’ve gone with him to look for ye. I sent him to the village.”
Payton snorted. “If he found the inn—and the whores—he might no’ be back up here ‘til midnight.”
Since the sun was setting and the torches being lit, amid the bustle around them, ‘twas no’ an exaggeration. But Daniel’s mouth curved into an irritated frown. “Shame, brother, he’s anAbbot. He wouldn’t indulge in pleasures of the flesh like that. Here I am, busting my arse to shepherd souls into Heaven, andyeget called on by such a great holy man.”
“Well, brother, ye’re arse is looking un-busted to me, so ‘tis certain I am ye’ll get the attention ofallthe holy men soon,” Payton said with a grin.
Daniel frowned at him, as if trying to work out the insult, and chuckling, Payton held out his hand. “We’ve been visiting the tower house. ‘Tis been well cared for—ye have my thanks.”
His older brother hesitated, then clasped Payton’s forearm. “Ye had a pleasant trip? The house is in good condition, but so small.”
Shrugging, Payton knew that mattered naught. “We liked it.”
Daniel seemed to light up. “So ye’re taking it over from me? I remember ye saying Hunters retire when they marry—are ye hanging up yer sword andfinallyrelieving me of the duty of taking care of that place?”
Payton was suddenly glad Flora hadn’t heard what his brother had said about retiring. Not when evenhewas certain what the future would bring. So, he forced an easy smile.
“Aye, I’ll find a way.” And he would. “’Tis unfair to ask ye to continue to live there, when yer dream is here, caring for the MacIntyres.”
Daniel pumped Payton’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank ye!” Still grinning, he pulled Payton into a hug. “Happy Hogmanay to ye!”
‘Twas just the start.
The next hours—as the sun set and the moon rose and the revelry began—were just as chaotic and loud as the Yule had been. Payton didn’t have a chance to speak to Flora alone—not that he was certain what he would say.
Instead, the pair of them joined in the celebration. He was delighted to discover that, after two ales, Flora was an enthusiastic dancer.
Well, whirler.
Well, spinner-about-in-circles-while-laughing, at least.
He supposed there hadn’t been much opportunity for dancing in her life, but thejoyin her expression made Payton…
