When we reach my bedroom, I suddenly become aware that the lights are on. There’s nowhere to hide. With a wry smile on his face, Keats kicks off his shoes, pulls free of his socks and shrugs off his waistcoat, exposing his plain white shirt. A smile curves one side of his mouth as he tugs his tie off, fingers flying over the buttons of his top till it gapes open and slides off his arms.
In just his kilt, he walks over to me, sinuous body made for sin. Long, lean muscles on a lithe frame, he looks taller than just six feet. But with him barefoot like me, we are eye to eye. This time he grabs my face between his two hands and kisses me again. When he pulls away, he starts to unfasten his kilt.
“No, leave it on.”
He raises a brow at me, smile wicked. I splay my hands over his chest, tracing the warm contours of his body, his skin smooth except for the sparse tuft of hair between his pecs.
“Your turn,” he whispers, nibbling my earlobe.
I scoff.
“If you want to see what’s under this kilt, it’s your turn,” he repeats, dipping his forefingers into the waistline of his tartan. “I want to see you.”
“I’m not…”
He dives onto my bed sideways, patting the space beside him. “Come here, beautiful. Make me a happy man.”
I chuckle but crawl onto my bed, settling on my side to see him better. Also, my breasts look even bigger when I’m on my side and they’re squished together like this. Keats studies my cleavage, his fingers tracing the path his eyes have just taken. With curled fingers, he touches my cheek, opening his hand till it disappears into the tresses of my hair. Keats twirls a lock of it around his forefinger, a smile in his eyes and on his lips.
“I love you,” I tell him finally, the words spreading warmth and peace through me like a secret that’s finally been shared.
Keats smiles. He dips his head to mine and kisses me, his lips soft, stubble rough against me as he rolls me onto my back. He rests his hand on my abdomen. I resist the urge to suck my stomach in. Instead, I put my hand near his, smiling when he threads his fingers through mine. He returns my smile before deepening the kiss, slow and sensuous.
My pulse quickens, my heart almost bursting, as I realise something—I’m about to make love for the first time in my life.
Also by Catherine Rull
Romantic Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit
The Fat Chicks Club (Book 1)
Coming Soon in e-book and paperback
Romantic Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit
The Fat Chicks Club (Books 3 & 4)
Confessions of a Mere Mortal (Book 1 Mere Mortal Series)
Romantic Comedies
Two for the Road (Book 1 Swim Bike Run Series)
Mr Write (Book 1 The Right Guy Series)
Paranormal
Guardian: Recruit (Book 1 Guardian Series)
About the Author
Catherine Rull started writing novels at 15 after learning at school that S.E. Hinton was the same age when she wrote The Outsiders.
Catherine writes humorous Women’s Fiction, Chick Lit, Young Adult, Contemporary Single Title Romance and Paranormal. She is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association (UK), the Romance Writers of America and the 2012 Golden Heart® Finalists’ group, The Firebirds.
Catherine loves travelling (she’s been to 31 countries so far), superheroes, talking to herself to work out dialogue, watching movies and following the NHL. When she’s not writing, she’s busily procrastinating housework.
Catherine lives in Brisbane, Australia with her very understanding husband, Mao Che and their two amazing kids, Alexandra and Atticus.
