The Scotch King (Scotch 1) - Page 29

She laughed and turned around. “What’s he gonna do? Cook all the problems away?”

I shrugged. “He could cook people. I’ve seen it done before.”

She continued to laugh as she walked out. “I better step up my game. I’m about to be replaced.”

London spent most of her time outside. She walked around the island with her binoculars and explored, watching the wildlife and looking at the indigenous plants that were native to the Shetland Islands. Even on the coldest days, she still went outside for most of the afternoon. Only when it rained did she stay inside the house.

I’d been busy with work, so I didn’t pay much attention to her. Sometimes her abrasive comments annoyed me, her little-know-it-all attitude getting under my skin. Even after being here for a month, she still hadn’t conformed to her new living arrangement. She had this ridiculous notion that she would eventually escape.

I’d expected to break her by now. But it was going to be more of a challenge.

Oh well. I like challenges.

I sat in the living room and read a book while the fire cracked in the hearth. A TV was mounted on the old stone wall, but I hardly ever watched it. TV and film bored me. Telling a story in such a rushed amount of time always diluted its power. But with a book, there was never any end.

London announced her presence with her light footsteps. She sat on the other couch, in a pair of black leggings and a pink sweater. Dunbar brought her clothes on his return trips to the island, and he outfitted her with clothing that clung to her curves perfectly. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and I kept picturing my hand fisting it as I shoved my cock into her mouth. Now that days had passed, I was eager to fuck her again. Without even trying, she had a naturally beautiful face. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds in a treasure chest. Her fair skin reddened easily under my palm. I wondered if her ass would have the same reaction.

I kept the book open on my lap. “Can I help you with something?”

“Am I not allowed to sit here?” she asked like a smartass. “I thought the house was open to me.”

Every time she talked back to me, I wanted to slap her then fuck her senseless. Something about her seriously turned me on. Usually, if anyone ever disobeyed me, they were executed. I needed power and control at all times, and on the rare occasion I didn’t get it, I was livid. But with her, it just made my attraction grow. I wanted to do more than just fuck her. I wanted to spank her then fuck her in the ass. I’d already had her once before, and my cock always hardened at the memory. She wasn’t just good in bed. She was an amazing kisser. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll shove my cock in there and do it for you.” It wasn’t an idle threat. Any excuse to fuck her mouth was a good one.

Her eyes narrowed in a glare, but she didn’t say a word.

I turned back to my book, ignoring her on the other couch despite how hard my cock was. While I was a sexual man, I wasn’t obsessed with women. They came and went, pleasing me and then disappearing. It took a lot to grab my full attention. Since I was thirty-two and it had never happened before, I assumed it would never happen.

But London made me reconsider.

“I never see you drink anything but scotch and coffee.”

I didn’t take my eyes off the page. “Because everything else tastes like shit.”

“Even water?” she asked incredulously.

“Absolute piss.”

“Do you like wine?”

I finally shut my book, knowing this conversation wasn’t going to end. “What’s with the questions, Lovely?”

Her face reddened in annoyance at the nickname, but she didn’t bother correcting me. “I haven’t spoken to anyone in three days. I’m bored and lonely.”

“If you’re lonely, I can fix that.” I gave her a meaningful look, telling her exactly what I could do to make her feel less alone. I wanted a replay of the action we already had, the awesome sex that made me explode.

She rolled her eyes at my offer. “I’ll pass.”

“Seemed to enjoy it last time.”

“I was faking it.”

A laugh escaped my chest. “Yeah, sure…”

“I was,” she repeated.

“Your mouth can lie, but your pussy can’t. I made you come, and you know it.”

Redness tinted her cheeks, the embarrassment shining through. She didn’t deny the claim again, knowing it would just make her look worse.

“And I can do it again…” I drank my scotch, feeling the ice cubes press against my lips.

“No, thanks.” She crossed her arms over her chest and purposely looked at the fire, not making eye contact with me.


Tags: Penelope Sky Scotch Billionaire Romance
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