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Her brows crinkle in the sweetest expression of confusion. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing. I meant 'a lift' as in 'a ride.' What were you talking about?"
"The lift." I wave toward the far end of the hall, where the contraption in question is. "It's the thing that ferried us up to this floor."
"Oh, you mean it lifts the car to a higher floor."
"Aye. That's what I said."
Her smile becomes a grin. "In America, we call those things elevators."
"Oh, aye, of course. I knew that, but I forgot momentarily."
She swings the door open further. "Want to come in for a drink?"
"I should be away. We both need rest after this evening's get-together."
"But Fiona gave me a bottle of your best single-malt Scotch." Rebecca sashays across the threshold, then half turns to look at me. The lass licks her lips and rubs them together. "I can still taste the whiskies I tried yesterday. Please won't you share one drink with me?"
Though I know I shouldn't do it, my mouth has a mind of its own. "Aye, lass, I would love to have a dram with you."
Her entire demeanor lights up like fireworks in the night sky. When I shut the door behind me, she kicks off her shoes and ambles over to the island that fronts the open kitchen. As I follow her over there, I can't help glancing out the huge picture windows in the living area. This is indeed luxury living, though not quite as posh as the apartment Evan MacTaggart owns in Inverness. He's a billionaire tech mogul, though. Rebecca is not, and neither am I.
The lass tosses her suit jacket over one of the four stools at the island on her way to the drinks cabinet in the corner. "Sit down. I'm just getting the whisky."
I park my erse on a stool and continue with my visual inspection of the apartment. Despite the darkness outside, I know this building sits near the water. I also notice that where the picture windows end, a glass door leads out onto a patio. That might be a nice place to enjoy our whisky if it weren't so bloody cold out there tonight. To my left, I can see a bedroom through its half-open doorway. The living room offers a sofa and two armchairs as well, not to mention a coffee table.
Rebecca comes around the island to hand me a whisky glass that's one-third full. She hops onto the stool beside mine. "This is your black label whisky, the one that has an unpronounceable Gaelic name."
"Collaidh Sgeul-Rùin. It's not as difficult to pronounce as you think. I'd be happy to teach you."
"Maybe another time. I'm wiped out after two days of work, which doesn't bode well for my stamina in this job."
"You shouldn't think that way. After all, you've moved to another country thousands of miles from your home and started a new job in an industry you've never worked in before." I pat her hand. "Give yourself a chance to settle in. Then I'm sure you'll fall in love with the Highlands."
"Think I already have." She takes a wee sip, then closes her eyes and sighs with deep contentment. "You really do know how to make whisky."
Her sultry tone does nothing to alleviate my growing state of arousal. I don't have an erection yet, but I will do soon. Very soon. Unless I walk out the door and drive home. But I cannae do that. Rebecca has cast a sensual spell around me without even trying.
She takes a larger taste of the whisky and moans. "I've never been big on drinking alcohol, but your stuff could make me a convert. It tastes so deliciously, erotically spicy, and it feels warm and silky going down my throat."
Walk out the door, man. Do it now.
I start to back away from the island, but then Rebecca takes another sip and drags her fingers down her chest while moaning even more deeply. My cock is beginning to stiffen. I cannae tear my gaze away from the lass. Her soft, sexy smile makes my dokey jerk. But when she slides her tongue across her bottom lip while petting her throat, I lose the last vestiges of my self-control.
She opens her eyes, gazing at me with sleepy-sexy desire.
And I rush up to her, seize her about the waist, and drag her into my body.
Her eyes flare wide for a moment, then she blinks rapidly. "Thane?"
I snatch the glass from her fingers and down the rest of the whisky in one gulp. Rebecca is right. The black label single-malt does taste erotically spicy and silky. I never thought of it that way until tonight. "Ah, lass, no more whisky for you. I need you sober if I'm going to make love to you tonight."
She freezes, not even blinking her eyes. Then her entire body relaxes.
I can feel the hard peaks of her nipples through our clothes, and that makes me hunger for her even more. Should I be seducing my employee? No. But we are both consenting adults. "Dinnae want you to feel pressured. I want you, but only if it's what you want too."
She slips her arms around my neck. "Oh, Thane, I want you too. But this has to stay between us. Nobody at work needs to know."
"Aye. It will be a secret affair."
