18. Emma

Lachlan pulls away and grabs my hand as some of the staff come and go from the kitchen. He leads me the wrong way down the corridor and turns the corner to the left, slipping out the back door like he's done this a million times.

Maybe he has. There are those warning bells again.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Where would you like to go?" he replies, a heated look in those baby blues.

Fuck. He is doing things to my pussy that not even Carrick could do, and I was wildly attracted to him before I found out he was a complete jackass.

My head is spinning, and not just from the alcohol. Lachlan's question hangs in the air, laden with possibility, and I'm torn between throwing caution to the wind or slapping some sense into myself.

"We should go back," I say, the words coming out more as a question than a statement. "This is... we can't."

But Lachlan just grins at me, that grin that says he's used to getting what he wants. "Emma Thornton, are you always this much fun at parties?"

I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. The man has a way of sweeping away my resolve without even trying. It's infuriating and exhilarating.

He leans forward again, his breath tickling my cheek. "One more kiss," he whispers. "One more, and I'll walk you back inside, no strings attached."

My heart pounds against my ribcage like it's trying to escape. One part of my brain is flashing warning signs in neon lights, while the other part is dimming those lights one by one.

"Okay," I murmur, breathless, and his lips meet mine in a searing kiss that leaves no room for second thoughts.

The feel of his body pressed against mine, his cock hard and digging into me, makes me do something really, really stupid. I drop my hand to his dick and squeeze him through his jeans.

He groans into my mouth, pressing me against the rough brick of the pub's back wall. The car park stretches out next to us, but here in the shadows, we are unseen. His hand goes up my skirt again, flitting over the edge of my knickers in a way that has me going damper than ever.

"Fuck," I breathe. "Lachlan. What are we doing?"

"Taking what we want," he says as he pulls my knickers to the side, his fingers brushing against my pussy. "God, you feel good." His groan of satisfaction as he feels me bare and wet against him, drives me into a place where no sane person lives. After the disappointment of Carrick, my dad's health issues, the team, Dave, quitting, moving, and the booze, in the following seconds, I lose my mind completely and press against him as he drives two fingers into my pussy with a low growl.

My heart is racing, and I can't deny the primal need that's taken over me. Lachlan's fingers are magic, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me with every careful thrust. I bite back a moan, my hands grappling with his tee, pulling him closer, deeper.

His thumb finds my clit, and it has me teetering on the edge of something monumental. I feel reckless, wild. It's a side of myself that I don't recognise.

"Emma," he growls, his voice husky with lust. "Tell me you want this."

"I—I do." The words are a gasp between kisses. Rational thought has left the building, along with any concern about consequences. All that exists is the heat between us and the relentless pleasure he's coaxing from my body.

His free hand roams down my back and grips my thigh, lifting it to wrap around his hip, granting him better access to drive me further into insanity. My skirt bunches up around my waist, and I shiver.

What am I doing? This isn't me. Anyone could walk around the corner and see us. Oh, don't stop… fuck, don't stop.

We create our own private world in this dark corner. I'm close to coming all over his hand when he removes it quickly, and I let out a muffled noise of frustration.

Then I hear the zip on his pants, and my breath hitches.

He settles between my legs, fitting snugly between my thighs as he kisses me again, the hypnotic twist of his tongue in my mouth driving the boozy haze over the edge. The tip of his cock nudges against my pussy, and I moan louder than I should. With one sharp thrust, he's inside me, and a bolt of pleasure shoots through me, so intense it's almost painful. My fingers dig into his back, under his tee, his muscles rippling, making this an even sexier, even wilder experience. If I thought Carrick was out of my league, Lachlan isn't even in the same hemisphere. He moves, setting a pace that has my head spinning and my heart hammering.

I can't think, can't breathe; there's only the sensation of him, hard inside me and relentless. His grip is iron-strong, his movements calculated to drive me mad.

And it's working.

The cold brick at my back contrasts with the heat of his body in front of me, a reminder of how exposed we are. But the risk just adds fuel to the fire that's driving us both to the brink of complete ecstasy.

"You feel incredible," Lachlan groans against my neck, his breath hot on my skin.

A car engine starts somewhere nearby, and I freeze. But Lachlan doesn't stop; he just covers my mouth with his, swallowing any noise I might make. The danger of getting caught mixes with the pleasure coursing through me, tipping me closer and closer to the edge.

"Emma," Lachlan whispers, urgency lacing his voice. "Come for me."

The command sends me over the verge. Pleasure explodes inside me, wave after wave hitting me until I'm trembling in his arms, my pussy clutching his cock hard enough to break it in half. He has worked me up good and proper, and I can honestly say that not even Carrick—who knew his way around the sack—has managed to make me see stars.

Lachlan follows soon after with a low growl that vibrates through both of us. He stays inside me for a moment longer, our heavy breathing the only sound in this bubble we've created.

Then reality comes crashing back as he withdraws from me and pulls my knickers back into place before he smiles, a slow, sexy smile, as he pushes my skirt down. He steps back to stash his sizeable dick back in his pants. My mind reels from what we've just done—it's reckless, unprofessional, and exactly what I needed without even knowing I wanted it. I can't deny that the heat of him still lingers between my thighs, a sizzling reminder of our spontaneous combustion.

We stand there for a moment, the warm night air now prickling my skin as if reminding me to draw a breath. I do, shaky and uneven, and finally glance up at him.

Lachlan gazes down at me with an intensity that thrills me but also scares me. What is he thinking? "That was—" he starts.

"Don't," I cut him off, deciding I don't want to know what is going on in that brain of his. This can never happen again. "Don't say anything that you might regret in the morning."

He laughs, a deep sound that seems to reverberate off the bricks and warm me from the outside in. "No regrets, Emma Thornton. Not my style."

We stare at each other for a moment longer, and then I run back through the door that leads to the toilet corridor, hurrying along until I burst out of the door back into the pub, where Anna is standing up, clearly looking for me. She spots me, and her face relaxes a fraction.

God. Where does she think I've been all this time?

Rushing back to her, I frown at Keir and Lachlan, who is lounging against the bar already taking a sip of his next shot.

How?

Around the front?

Well, at least we didn't have to sneak back in together, although what everyone thinks about us disappearing at the same time, remains to be seen.

"Time to go," I mutter to Anna, not even bothering to stop as I pick up my bag.

"Everything okay?" Fiona asks as she also rises.

"Yeah, too much wine," I mutter. "I'm sorry to be a party pooper. A bit of a lightweight these days."

Fiona pauses to look at my flushed face and buys my tale of too much booze. "Oh, you poor thing. Let's get you home. Were you sick?"

"Mm-hm," I murmur.

"So that's why you took so long," Anna pipes up, giving me a narrow-eyed glare. She knows me better than that. I shoot her a pleading look back, and she purses her lips. She accepts that I will spill the tea when we get home.

Luckily, the walk home is short, and soon, I'm gulping back a glass of water as Anna convinces Fiona that I'm fine and she can go home.

I feel terrible. Not only have I cut our evening short and sent her away, I banged her fucking younger brother while I was at it.

Outside!

Where anyone could've seen us!

Fuck!

Fuckity fuck. He is four years younger than me. Four thousand times hotter than me and Captain of a sports team that is damn near worshipped around these parts.

‘Cocked up' doesn't quite cover this evening. Not at all.