Against Her Rules (9 page)

  Her
last thought before she succumbed to her exhaustion was that she was in
trouble. Big, freakin’ ginormous trouble.

  C
am
woke to find himself alone in bed. The only certainty that he hadn’t dreamed
the night before was that he was in her bed, surrounded by her scent, and
tell-tale signs that this was a woman’s room. Useless pillows piled on a window
seat, a soft lilac duvet cover, and a hundred subtle little things that you wouldn’t
find in a room if it was shared with a man.

  The
sun was streaming through lace curtains, blowing in the cold breeze from the
open window. He remembered getting up at some point in the night and opening
it, the cold air adding to the sensations of their sweaty bodies.

  It
was seven thirty. The latest he’d slept in since arriving at the inn. But the
last thing on his mind this morning was getting breakfast and going in search
of birds. The only thing he wanted was for Elsie to come back to bed. He heard
the shower running in the bathroom, and figured the best way to get her back to
bed was to entice her.

  He
quietly stood in the bathroom door, watching the shape of her through the
frosted glass shower door. Every curve was outlined in the steam filled room.

  “Room
for two?” he asked. The last thing he wanted was to startle her. He still
couldn’t help but feel that this change in events was a tenuous thing, and the
littlest mistake on his part could break the magic.

  “If
you think you can fit.” She opened the door and he saw the shower was not
intended for two. Had she been a taller woman, he wouldn’t have dared enter.
But her size made him give it a try. There were mere inches keeping them from
pressing against the walls.

  “Good
morning,” she said, her hair full of soap. She kissed his chest, since that was
what was at lip level for her.

  “Is
it ever,” he replied, running his hand down the centre of her back. Her skin
was slick with soap, and he couldn’t resist massaging her lightly.

  “Mmmm.
If I’d known I’d get a massage I would have woken you.” She turned, pressing
her body against the shower wall to give him better access to her back.

  While
he continued his ministrations to her back with one hand, he slid the other
around to her stomach and down to the soft mound between her legs.

  The
water from the wide shower head installed in the ceiling fell on them like a
spring rain as he worked her back and front. Within seconds she was moaning,
rocking her body against his hand. He stopped rubbing her back, instead
caressing her breasts as he pulled her tight toward him. He ached to slip
himself inside her, but waited until she had regained her breath.

  Before
he could shift positions to aim himself towards her wet opening, she turned and
kneeled in front of him. She slowly kissed her way up the inside of his thigh,
one hand massaging his firm butt cheek, the other cupping his balls. It took
everything he had not to explode there and then.

  He
tangled his hands in her hair, but tried not to guide her. He wanted to
experience the rhythm she set, not drive her to follow a pace of his own
choosing. It was worth it. She moved her mouth over him, at times taking him
deep into her, other times lightly teasing him with the tip of her tongue. When
she pulled away, it was to explore him with kisses, on his thighs, his balls,
his stomach. And while she kissed him she would slide her hand over the length
of his cock.

  Cam
wanted to make it last, and fought to calm himself. He took in deep breaths,
willing himself to remain in control. It was a losing battle the moment she
took his entire length into her mouth and squeezed his scrotum. He tried to
push her away as he came with a shudder, but she kept a firm hold of him,
continuing her kisses until his body relaxed.

  He
looked down at her as she looked up, a smile on her face and a glint of
satisfaction in her eyes.

  Once
out of the shower he tried to entice her back to bed, but she insisted she had
to make an appearance at breakfast.

  “Why
don’t you stay here,” she said as she towel-dried her hair. “I’ll bring you
food, and we can spend the rest of the morning in bed. Or do you want to go get
some work done?”

  “If
you think I’m leaving this room to go freeze my arse off drawing birds, when I
could be here working up a sweat with you, then you really need to get to know
me better.” He took her brush and worked through the tangles in her hair.

  He
also tried to undress her while she swatted him away.

  “Campbell
Scott.” She paused. “What’s your middle name?

  “Campbell
Duncan Alistair Scott. It’s a mouthful, I know. My father’s father was Duncan
Scott. My mother’s father was Alistair Campbell. I was their first child, and
in case there were no more, I got all the family names.”

  “But
you have a sister?” she asked, pulling on a pair of jeans.

  “Two.
And a brother. He’s the baby. He’s only twenty. And acts twelve most times.”

  “There’s
just me and my brother, Will. He’s younger than me too. He doesn’t come home
often. He’s in the Navy.”

  “Ah.
Will he be upset to see how you’ve redecorated his cottage?”

  She
pushed him. “I told you. There was water damage. It needed it.”

  “If
you say so, darling,” he said, kissing her nose. The intimacy was spoiled by a
loud grumbling that wasn’t coming from his stomach. “I think you need to go in
search of food. Don’t worry. I’ll stay here just like this awaiting your
return.”

  He
lay back on the bed. “You don’t even need to tie me up. I am your willing
captive.”

  “I’ll
try my best not to be long. Any preference for breakfast?”

  “Hmmmm.
You, covered in marmalade. And a cup of coffee.”

  She
grinned and kissed him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

––––––––

  E
lsie
refused to over-analyze anything that was happening. She was going to let
herself live in the moment and just shut out the thinking side of her brain.
Once downstairs she quickly said good morning to the two tables of guests that
were enjoying French toast and ham. She made one recommendation of a great day
trip, promised to find a bottle of bakeapple jam for a couple from Atlanta, and
reviewed the reservations list. After check out tomorrow Cam and Asher were the
only guests on the books. If she could get Ash to leave, she might get to enjoy
the house with just her and Cam. She often kept staff to a minimum when there
were only a handful of guests. The idea of sharing the house with Cam was
comforting. They could curl up in the library together in front of the fire.
Play strip poker in the games room. Snuggle in the TV room and watch a movie on
the big screen. Yes. She had to get Asher out today. Tomorrow morning at the
latest.

  “Well,
don’t you look happy this morning. Much better than that scowl you’ve had of
late.”

  Elsie
kissed her great aunt on the cheek. “Good morning, Auntie. How’s the concierge
business today?”

  “Grand.
I got myself a hundred dollar tip, just for telling Mr. and Mrs. Emmerson that
there was bingo this evening down at the parish hall. I’m going to drive them
down after supper.”

  “That’s
great,” Elsie said, running through her emails quickly. “Anything else?”

  “Well,
Mr. Scott hasn’t been up for breakfast. He must have gone out pretty early this
morning because I haven’t seen a motion down that way since I got in at half
past six.”

  Elsie
tried not to smile as she remembered him wrapped around her back, one hand
cupping her breast, as he snored into her ear. That would have been around six
thirty this morning.

  “Well,
it’s a beautiful day for it,” she said. “I’m going to take the morning off
myself and relax with a good book. If anything comes up, of course, call me.”
She kissed her aunt again, and headed to the kitchen.

  Her
father was reading the paper. Thankfully her mother was nowhere in sight.

  “Found
an empty whisky bottle in here this morning,” he said, not looking up from the
paper.

  She
filled him in on Asher’s drunken episode, although keeping her role in the
whole thing out of it, other than as B&B owner to the rescue, while she
prepared a breakfast tray.

  “That
for him?” her father asked, finally looking at her.

  “No.
It’s for me,” she said.

  “A
lot of food for just you.”

  “I’m
hungry.”

  “I’ve
fed you lots when you’re hungry. That’s a lot of food for just you.”

  “Dad.”

  “Elsie.”
He met her gaze.

  She
recalled what her mother had said. “Asher Corbin is not sharing breakfast with
me, okay.”

  “Never
said he was,” he said. “But someone is.”

  She
didn’t answer.

  “None
of my business. I’m just the chief cook and bottle washer round here.”

  She
ignored him as she grabbed a handful of tea bags, a tub of honey, and some
other staples. “I have a kitchen of my own. Perhaps it’s time I stocked it,” she
said before carrying it all out of the kitchen.

  She
wondered how long it would be before her father called her mother. She also
wondered how long it would be before she stopped feeling like a teenage girl
having to justify everything she did to her parents. Here she was hiding a man
in her room, just so that no one would know. And she was wishing her house was
empty so that she could share it with him. It was ridiculous. She was a grown
woman in her thirties for the love of God. It was her choice who she shared her
bed with, and her house. If she hadn’t been starving, and turned on by the
thought of Cam up in her bed waiting for her, she would march into the room,
demand he get dressed and eat with her in the dining room. Where she would hold
his hand, and stroke his hair. Maybe she would even feed him.

  Okay.
Maybe that was a bit much. But she wasn’t going to hide it. She was attracted
to a man, and he was clearly attracted to her. There was nothing to be ashamed
about. This was a place where couples came to experience a bit of romance, and
take a break from reality. And she knew there was a lot of “knockin‘ boots”, as
her brother used to refer to it, happening under her roof. It was time she got
in on the action more often.

––––––––

  T
he
morning with Cam was amazing. And not just the times when they were having what
could only be called mind-blowing sex. They laughed. They dozed. They even
tried to watch the news, but turned it off when a story about Asher came on.

   Cam
was easy to talk to. And easy to seduce.

  “So,”
she said after recovering from a particularly intense orgasm. “I was thinking
you might like to go for a drive with me this afternoon.”

  “Really,
where?”

  “Into
town. St. John’s. A friend of mine owns an amazing restaurant. I thought we
could go for a walk downtown, have an early supper and then come back here.”

  “If
you like. I’m fine staying here all day. Then I don’t have to get dressed.” He
nibbled her ear.

  “That’s
also tempting. But I’d like to show you the city. It’s really my second
favourite place on earth. And since you’ve spent days exploring my favourite
spot, I thought you might like to see a bit more of Newfoundland.”

  He
rolled on top of her and kissed her. “I’d much rather explore my favourite
spot,” he said, running his hand down her stomach. “But once I’m done here,
it’s a date.”

  An
hour later, once her mind was focused once more on getting out of bed, those
words came back to her. Smiling, she realized he was right. It was a date. Her
first in more than six years.

––––––––

  I
t
was a spectacular afternoon for a drive. The city was an hour and a half away
and they filled the time easily. He hadn’t really seen the city when he had
arrived because of the fog and his rush to get started. And his grumpy mood.
But exploring the oldest city in North America with a beautiful woman by his
side was a whole other experience.

  She
parked on the harbour front, which they walked along, looking at the different
vessels. Some looked like they had spent more than enough days at sea, rust
thick on their bodies. Others were sleek and clean. There was even a cruise
ship docked. Which was a bit of a shock, honestly. He pictured cruisers seeking
sun and surf, not fog and wind. But there was no denying there was a certain
charm about the place.

  The
wind was cool, which encouraged them to duck into the little stores along Water
Street to warm up. In one, he bought a wool hat, and she bought a pair of
mitts. At another, they got some locally roasted coffee to go. The highlight of
the afternoon for him, however, was a trip to a small lingerie shop where she
modelled several options for him.

  “Pick
one. I’ll wear it tonight under my outfit for dinner,” she teased.

  In
the end he couldn’t pick just one. He bought everything she tried on.

  “If
I’d known that, I would have kept trying things on,” she joked, once she
realized he was ignoring her protests that she was capable of buying her own
clothing.

  About
an hour before dinner she left him on his own. Apparently she had some more
shopping to do, and figured he’d enjoy himself more browsing around. It was a
good time to get her something special.

  Cam
wasn’t the kind of guy who showered women with gifts. Then again, he wasn’t the
kind of guy who was content to spend an entire day with a woman, especially if
it was out of the bedroom. Hell, he wasn’t the kind of guy who wandered around
aimlessly thinking about the kind of guy he was. He was different with Elsie.
More himself, really. Not that he had changed anything major about himself. It
was more a shift in perspective. Since his chat with Daphne he had done some
soul searching and didn’t really like the images of himself that were coming to
mind.