Page 105 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

“What if I want to buy a goat farm? With three hundred goats?”

He dropped his forehead to the pillow next to her ear with a groan.

“Aye. I’ll buy you ten goat farms. I’ll let you name them all. All three hundred goats. And before you ask, yes, I’d love you still even if ye make me shovel goat shite every night. I’d love you if ye were a spoon. I’d love you if ye were a squirrel. I’d love you if your nose turned green and your hands turned into pitchforks and whatever else you worry about. I’d love you in Florida. I’d love you on the moon. I’ll love you until the end of days, mo ghraidh. Until this planet careens into the sun. I’ll hold you and love you until we disintegrate into stardust. And even after. If only you’ll let me do it again.”

She brought her hands to his cheeks, guiding his head up so that she could kiss his cheek, trail her own lips to his ear.

“And what if I said I wanted to winter in Alaska and summer in Antarctica, so I never have to be without you?”

He kissed her, decadently slow, her lips warm and soft under his, tasting garlic and lemon and wine on her tongue. Salt.Her.

He cradled her face in his hands. Against her mouth, he said, “My love, I’ll follow you anywhere. Anywhere at all. If only you’ll let me.”

35

Jory’s alarm rang at eight a.m.

Her eyes flew open, sticky from only a few hours of sleep, and big arms wrapped tightly around her, dragging her against a hard chest. Callum was a study in texture and temperature now, his chest and forearms still dusted with coarse hair, but cool beneath.

“Stay,” he grumbled against her hair, his lips tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear.

“Callum,” she said with a laugh as she turned on the lamp and winced at the sudden brightness, “I have a business to run.”

“Esther is going to be running the day-to-day soon. Call in sick.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Call in immortal.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

With lightning quick speed, he rolled, flipping her onto her back and grinding his pelvis against hers, the soft cotton of her panties the only barrier between the heat of her sex and the chilled marble of his.

He kissed her, his mouth rough and demanding against hers.

Against her lips, he said, “Call in indisposed then.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Ten more minutes,” he said, dragging his lips down her throat, scraping his teeth against her clavicle.

“Five.”

“Ten,” he repeated.

“I have to do a hair and body shower.”

He slid his body further down, kissing his way to her breast. “Are they nae all hair and body showers?”

“No,” she said. “A body shower is where you just wash your body but not your hair. A hair and body shower is where you wash both. And—” She gasped as he gently bit her nipple, his tongue flicking rapidly against the taut peak between his teeth.

“Cannae you do that later today?”

“I feel dirty, Callum.”

He grunted, a low sound, coming more from his chest than his throat, and slid even further down. He kissed his way down her belly until he buried his nose against the cotton of her panties.

“Callum,” she protested, pulling on his hair.