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"May not have time for everything in three days." I struggle to turn us around while my feet are hindered by wet sand. "But I'll do my best."
I cart my wife back to the car and dry her feet with a towel I'd brought because I knew she would want to see the ocean as soon as possible. And I knew she'd insist on prancing about in the sand and water.
Once I've taken care of my wife, I settle in behind the wheel of the Jaguar and rest my hands on it, drumming one finger. "Should we continue up the coast, or go back to Corran to take the ferry? We could drive the interior route to Skye, through Fort William and Invergarry."
"You're driving. You pick."
"This is your holiday, love. You choose."
Did I say… No, I didn't just call her "love." That was a thought in my head, not words I spoke.
"Um…" Emery trails off, her brows crinkled as she glances at me.
Mhac na galla. I did call her "love" out loud. I must've done, based on her expression.
She wriggles in her seat and clears her throat. "Back to Corran."
Another ferry trip takes us back to the road that leads northeast out of Fort William, past Loch Linnhe and Loch Lochy. My wife thinks that name is amusing.
"Loch Lochy?" she says, her smile bright and her laughter tickling my senses. "Is there a Mount Mountie too?"
"No."
Emery laughs again.
Our journey toward Skye includes multiple stops of varying types, everything from scenic views to historic places and monuments of interest. I know Emery loves any sort of destination, and I can't resist explaining the significance of each stop on our road trip. Not having a plan doesn't matter. I know the history and geography of this region almost as well as I know Emery's body. She's easy to please, and I love that about her. Sometimes I wish I could be as open and free as my wife, but that's not in my nature.
Sex in the kitchen, in the daytime, doesn't change that.
I'm driving down a straight stretch of road when my wife sneaks a hand onto my thigh, sliding it down between my legs. "I know you have a wild heart, so let it show. Violate the speed limit, baby. See how fast this Jag can run."
"I'd risk a fine and penalty points on my license."
She massages my inner thigh. "How many points have you got so far?"
"None." I clear my throat, trying not to grimace when she strokes my thigh. "Sixty isn't fast enough for you?"
"Kilometers are shorter than miles. You're not going as fast as it sounds."
"We use miles per hour here." I collar her wrist and set her hand on her lap. "We are going as fast as it sounds."
"Come on, break the speed limit for one minute. Floor it and see how it feels."
Glancing at her sideways, I twist my lips into a wry smile. "You are a sexy little devil whispering in my ear, luring me to sin."
"Is it working?"
Oh aye, my wicked angel can tempt me to do almost anything. I punch the accelerator, and the Jaguar rockets forward with its engine roaring.
"Wooo!" Emery shouts while thrusting her arms in the air. She locks her hands over the windscreen's top edge. "Go, Rory baby!"
I grin and laugh, exhilaration rushing through me like I've swallowed half a bottle of whisky. But it's not speed intoxicating me. It's Emery.
After precisely one minute, according to the dashboard clock, I decelerate to sixty miles per hour.
"How did it feel?" she asks.
"Good, but not as exciting as making love to you."
