Clan McKinloch: Stars, Stripes & Xmas Bells Read online

  On the far end of the room, Trip watched Ashton and Ossian mixing drinks and serving food to the customers at the bar. Trip couldn’t stop staring at her. He’d known she was a knockout that night on the Arch green. He just hadn’t had a chance to absorb her warm personality.

  She was every bit as curvy and sexy as he’d thought. Her coppery-red curls were piled on top of her head in a haphazard ponytail. She wore a snug black McKinloch’s T-shirt and jeans that showed off her full figure. He liked the jeans, but he had liked her skirt better. He wanted to put his palms against the delicate skin of her inner thighs and slide beneath the denim. Touching her was erotic—the way she trembled when he reached her pussy and the silky texture of her pubic hair.

  He’d never forget the way she responded to him. Never.

  His cock was tenting the front of his uniform pants. He hadn’t been with anyone since that night in the museum. It wasn’t lack of opportunity. It was lack of desire. He squirmed and tried to adjust his hard-on without making it obvious to everyone at the table what he was doing.

  It took every ounce of his willpower not to go over and sit at the bar. Hell, it took everything he had not to walk up, crush her to his chest, and kiss her. God knew he’d dreamed about doing that and more every night since July.

  “You’re staring again,” Morrie murmured.

  Ashton’s just a woman. Gavin is my brother. “It’s odd that she’s working here, that’s all.”

  His mother followed his gaze to where Ashton and Ossian were laughing with a customer. “She’s such a wonderful girl. Gavin really has it bad. He’s so quiet I don’t think she had any idea how much he liked her until he asked her to Christmas dinner.”

  “Is that right?” The words sliced Trip’s throat when they came out.

  “Poor thing doesn’t have any family. Apparently she’s in the habit of going to the movies alone on Christmas Day.” His mother said it as if there was nothing more horrifying.

  Trip let his gaze wander back toward the bar. He wondered how Ashton really felt about being alone on Christmas. His family viewed a desire for solitude the same way they did insanity. He wasn’t so sure.

  Some of his most cherished memories had happened while he was alone or sharing the silence with a close friend. He didn’t need a group to validate his existence. It was the elephant in the room when he was at home with his family. They wanted him to be a typical McKinloch, retire from the military, move home, work in the pub, marry, and have a family—in that order, of course. Not that he ever would.

  “For a while there I thought Oz would take up with her,” Jack commented suddenly. “I’ve never seen him warm up to someone the way he did her.”

  “You thought Ossian would settle down with one woman?” Morrie snorted into her soda and came up coughing.

  Jack shot his daughter a rueful smile. “I know. Silly of me, hmm? But there’s just too much age difference there, I think.”

  “Why are you all trying to marry her off and tie her to this place?” Trip felt outraged on Ashton’s behalf. Didn’t they realize the poor girl had other ideas?

  “They think that’s what she wants,” Morrie continued, picking the carrots out of her shepherd’s pie. “I know her better, so I’m not that delusional. Besides, maybe she does want to marry Gavin and pop out half a dozen McKinlochs. You don’t know a thing about her.”

  He clenched his teeth against the words he wanted to say. He knew Ashton better than they thought. He knew she made tiny noises when he kissed her, and that her mouth was warm, inviting, and tasted like sunshine. Her breasts were pale as milk with dark rosy nipples, and the hair covering her mound was just as red as the curls piled on her head. He knew the sound she made when his cock sank into her pussy, and he knew what it felt like when she melted around him in climax.

  As far as he was concerned, that was a pretty damn convincing list.

  “Your brother is half in love with her, Aiden.” His father’s words cut through Trip’s reminiscing.

  So many things about that statement made him angry, Trip didn’t know where to start. “That happened a long time ago, Dad.”

  “Then see that history doesn’t repeat itself,” Jack said.

  THEY WERE ALL staring at her. Ashton wished she knew why. Had the missing McKinloch admitted they were lovers? She watched him have a tense tête-à-tête with his father, and wished she had superhearing.

  “Tricky situation, hmm?” Oz didn’t glance up from the beer he was pulling for a customer.

  She’d already suspected he had put two and two together. It didn’t make her feel less awkward. There wasn’t anything she could say to make the situation better either. It was what it was.

  On that note, she took the ice bucket and went to get a refill. It was a relief to leave the bar behind until she realized her huffy exit had sent her straight through the kitchen. Gavin looked up as she strode through. His wide smile made her feel worse, if that was possible.

  I never agreed to be anyone’s anything, dammit!

  “I need some air.” She set the bucket next to the icemaker and made for the back door as if the bar were on fire.

  She stepped onto the icy brick path that meandered its way around the beer garden. In good weather, Oz manned the bar out here, and customers could watch sports on the flat screen while they enjoyed a beer in the cool evening air.

  At the moment the twinkling lights strung around the naked branches of the trees and shrubs were half-covered in ice and snow. There was no wind in the enclosed space. The L-shaped pub protected two sides, the other two bordered by a residential building and a novelty shop.

  Ashton wrapped her arms snug around her body and crunched a few steps toward the wrought-iron railing that separated the dining area from the server walk-through. There were lights on upstairs. Oz lived in an apartment up there. She wondered if Trip would stay with him or at his parents’ place with Gavin and Morrie.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  She turned around so fast her foot slipped on a patch of ice. Trip was there before her butt could hit the frozen bricks. He was so warm, so alive, and so familiar, though he shouldn’t have been.

  He didn’t let her go, and she didn’t want him to. “I never expected to see you again either. And certainly not like this.”

  “What happened that night—it’s not how I normally do things,” he said.

  Great. Now he was going to give her the brush-off. Mortification hit her hard. It was always embarrassing when she dated a guy and this moment inevitably happened. They usually gave her some kind of speech about how she had a great personality, which she took to mean that she was a nice girl, but not hot enough to tempt them into a physical relationship. Why oh why had Trip come back into her life at all? It was better to have loved and lost, wasn’t it?

  She struggled to put a little distance between them, but he wouldn’t let go. Glaring up at him, she injected enough frost into her gaze to give the patio another dusting of snow. “Since you’ve made it clear how you want to proceed with our acquaintance, I think its time for me to get back inside before Oz comes looking.”

  “God, you’re beautiful when you’re riled.”

  He was smiling at her. No. Check that, he was laughing at her. She could see it in his eyes. “I’m glad you find this funny. I don’t. In fact—”

  Trip took her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss that chased all thoughts from her mind. She should have pushed him away, but she didn’t. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with enthusiasm.

  He tasted every bit as hot and spicy as she remembered, like velvet—all male and as consuming as fire. Her lips molded to his as if she needed him to breathe. She eagerly opened her mouth to invite him inside. She wanted the connection, the remembered feel of him sliding sexily alongside her tongue and coaxing the dampness that saturated her aching core.

  She made a noise in her throat, and he growled. The kiss turned carnal and demanding. His hands moved to her tor
so, raking the bottom of her T-shirt from her jeans and pressing his palms to her rib cage. Her skin tingled where he touched, and her brain kept up a mantra of more, more, more.

  He broke away from her mouth and kissed the sensitive skin of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access. Her breath was coming short and fast. There was so much heat between them she was surprised they hadn’t melted the ice beneath their feet.

  “Trip.” She struggled to speak, needing to explain something. “There’s nothing between me and Gavin.”

  “I know.” He pulled her away from the back door toward an alcove housing stacks of chairs.

  The brick was cold against her back, a perfect counterpoint to the male heat blanketing her front. He lifted her shirt and tugged at the cups of her bra. Her breasts spilled over the top, the cool air making her gasp. The sensation was sharp, her nipples beading into hard points.

  He ducked his head, and she groaned when he took one in his mouth. His tongue rasped over the taut bud, the warmth making everything below her belly clench with anticipation. She squirmed in her panties. She was so wet and needy she was willing to overlook the fact that satisfaction was going to require her to be naked outside in winter.

  His teeth closed around her nipple, and Ash grabbed his head, drawing her nails through his short hair. He sucked, he nipped, he tugged until she was moaning and writhing against him. When he finally let go, the cold air whispered across her damp, aroused flesh like a whip.

  He glanced up at her face. “I miss your skirt.”

  Her laugh was harsh. She missed the damn skirt too. Had she been wearing it, she would have had his cock deep inside her pussy where it belonged.

  There was no more time to debate the merits of being naked outside. He unbuttoned her jeans. “Spread your legs for me, Ashton.”

  She obediently scooted her feet apart. He pushed the denim down around her hips. She was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the extra pounds that were no doubt spilling over the waistband.

  “There it is.” He slid his hand beneath her panties and threaded his fingers through her pubic hair. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months.” He stroked her mound, making her whimper with need. “Your hair is soft as silk. It’s so incredible.”

  His words drew forth a rush of creamy fluid. The scrap of cotton between her legs was drenched in her juices, and she was so aroused she thought she might snap. She grabbed his shoulders and held on. She’d been waiting to feel this again every night since they’d last met.

  “Do you want me to touch you?” Trip met and held her gaze. His dark eyes were warm, promising fulfillment. “Tell me what you want.”

  It shouldn’t have been possible to feel this hot when it was so cold outside, but her blush proved otherwise. “Your hand,” she managed.

  “My hand what?”

  Desperation made her brave. “Touch me. Finger me. Make me come.”

  “For you, darlin’, I’d walk naked through the desert.” He slipped his fingers into her slit.

  The contact made her groan. Two fingers skated past her clit. He straddled it, moving back and forth in a quick rhythm that forced her to follow. She tilted her hips forward to increase the pressure. Her eyes were closed, every sense she had focused on exquisite satisfaction of climax. His pace didn’t waver as he avoided her clit with deliberate care. It was torture, pleasurable agony. She never wanted it to end.

  A fine sheen of sweat coated her forehead. She dug her fingers into the thick muscle of his shoulders as she tried to find an anchor in the storm. It built in her lower back, snaking down her legs until only the brick and her grip on him kept her upright.

  Her body began to tremble. Her pussy clenched and demanded penetration. Trip withheld, everything but his touch. Heat lanced through her limbs, and she poised on the edge of release.

  She gasped, and the noise turned into a sobbing plea. She couldn’t ask for what she needed. She had no ability for coherent speech.

  “Come, sweetheart. Come for me.” He moved his fingers to her clit and brushed the bundle of tightly strung nerves.

  Her body melted around his hand. Orgasm shook her from her core to her extremities until she was weak with the release. She fell against him, limp in his arms. His cock stood like an iron bar between them.

  Drained and sated, she didn’t like the idea of leaving him wanting. “You’re so hard. I can’t leave you like this.”

  His low, masculine laugh made her horny all over again. “I can wait just a little longer.”

  “How long?”

  He deftly buttoned her pants. “Can I come to you tonight? Where do you live?”

  “Two blocks over on Eighth Street. The building with the huge screened-in porch upstairs. I’m on the ground floor. Come through the garden gate in the parking lot. My door is the one on the left. I’m the one without a wreath or lights.” She didn’t stop to wonder if this was the right thing to do. None of this had been right—in the moral sense, not even in the common sense, sense—but she knew enough to know it had been inevitable.

  “I’ll be there.” Trip gave her another kiss and turned to leave the beer garden through the entrance on the far side that would take him back around to McKinloch’s front door.

  Ashton watched him disappear, giving herself a few moments to collect her wits. She couldn’t just walk back into the bar and act like nothing had happened. She’d just had an orgasm outside while half-naked in the snow, dammit.

  She took a deep, steadying breath and stepped out of the alcove. Her exhale created a plume of steam that wafted up toward the sky. Throwing her head back, she looked up at the thick clouds overhead. They were pink with the reflected lights of the city. As she watched, tiny snowflakes fell like dancers tumbling through the air.

  They stung her face, melting when they hit her hot cheeks. She could almost hear the echo of Christmas bells from Santa’s sleigh. For the first time since she was a little girl, Ashton allowed herself to feel the excitement of the season. She didn’t feel insignificant or alone. She’d been bathed in the warmth of Trip’s acceptance, and for now that was enough.

  * * * *

  December 23—1945 hours

  Not for the first time since meeting Ashton, Trip wondered if blue balls could be fatal. He was glad his uniform pants were starched until rigid and included a button fly covered by the lower portion of his jacket. Had they been otherwise he would have had to walk back into McKinloch’s dining room with a cockstand.

  “That was a long phone call.” Morrie’s expression said she didn’t believe a word of the excuse he’d used to escape the dining room.

  His father looked grim. “Everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine. I just forgot to check in with my chain of command when I got into town.” Trip felt like a tool for worrying his father unnecessarily. Jack McKinloch hadn’t understood or liked his son going career and becoming a C-130 pilot in the air force, but he’d always been one of Trip’s supporters.

  Unlike his mother. She was already giving him the narrow-eyed glare she always used to make her point. “I wish you would just retire from active duty and settle down here at home like Ossian did.”

  “I am not Ossian,” he reminded her gently.

  “Nobody ever thought you could be.” Ossian took a seat across from Trip. “Me that is. You’re not cool enough. Besides, you never would have cut it in the marines.”

  Morrie stuck her tongue out at their big brother. “Oh, ha-ha. Just give yourself a giant Oorah`. You’re not cool. You’re a jerk. You left Ash up there all by herself at the bar. What kind of gentleman does that?”

  “The kind that knows she’s perfectly capable of handling things on her own.” Ossian was unfazed by their sister’s rant. “This is an equal-opportunity pub.”

  “She’s such a nice girl,” their mother reiterated. “Trip, you could find a girl like that for yourself if you came home and gave it half a try.”

  Ossian’s snort made Trip wonder exact
ly how much his eldest brother knew about what had happened over the Fourth of July. Oz gave their mother the same I-love-you-but-leave-it-alone smile he’d been using since high school. “I’m going to take little brother upstairs and get him situated, Mom. You have the rest of Christmas vacation to marry him off.”

  It was time to follow his brother’s lead. Trip stood up from the table and swept his rucksack off the floor. “I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek and nodded to his father. “By then the jet lag should have worn off.”

  His mother sighed and shook her head. “Good night, boys.”

  Ossian led the way out of the main dining room. Trip couldn’t stop himself from stealing one last glance at Ashton before they hit the narrow stairwell. He could smell her on his hands and taste her on his lips. As far he was concerned, her shift couldn’t end soon enough.

  “God, you’re an idiot,” Ossian grumbled.

  Trip waited until Ossian’s apartment door closed behind them to respond. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “There are so many possibilities I’m at a loss as to exactly which one I’m referring to,” Ossian retorted.

  It was cold in his brother’s apartment. The unit was one of two that shared McKinloch’s second story. One side of the open room offered a view of the beer garden. Orange light from the outdoor lamps spilled through the narrow windows. Snow drifted lazily against the panes, forming ice crystals on the glass.

  He dumped his stuff beside the long, overstuffed couch. “Have you decided what—exactly—makes me an idiot?”

  Oz’s cheeks filled with air for a moment before he heaved a giant sigh. “It isn’t for me to say, little brother. What actually happened?”

  Trip flopped down on one end of the couch. He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t have to. Ossian would wait until he was ready. Oz wasn’t asking for a play-by-play of events. His brother didn’t work like that. Which meant that Trip had to really think about what was happening to him.