Kilty Pleasure

KILTY PLEASURE

moko heathers

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Pre-lube (Prologue)

Dylan ~ Explain the Insane

Dylan ~ Return to Reality (Present Day)

Alex

Alex (1989)

Alex ~ Prom

Leigha

Dylan ~ New York is Shrinking?

Dylan ~ Flash of Cash

Dylan ~ Cashed In

Dylan ~ Drama

Jaylynn

Dylan ~ Miles Away

Dylan ~ Fire of Fury…Extinguished

Dylan ~ Mad Max

Miles ~ Her Heart in my Hands

Dylan ~ Brothers Bonded

Dylan ~ Back to Me

Dylan ~ Getaway Girl

Dylan ~ Future Fun

Dylan ~ Hallucination of Horror

Dylan ~ Bridal Bon Voyage

Copyrights

Acknowledgements

Kilty Pleasure (the sequel to The Kilted Lover) is dedicated to all my family, friends and fans. I am so grateful for your support and encouragement—you all inspire me and because of all of you, I continue writing. I would like to thank the beautiful and brilliant Ms. Chantelle Burgess for her editing genius. I am truly blessed to have so many incredible family and friends in my life—thank you, thank you, thank you, I adore all of you – xo

Pre-lube (Prologue)

As we returned from our amorous adventure, the plane was quiet; a comatose crowd of passengers surrounded us. Descending into a dream, my psyche swirled with overwhelming happiness. It seemed as though our escape wasn’t real—that it was a fantasy, an illusion. Forever searching for love, a mate for my soul, I’d finally found him. I had never imagined Miles to be my match, but he is my perfect partner. A complex universe of people passing each other, wondering, waiting, longing for love, and I’d won the lottery. After my first marriage mistake, I didn’t think I would ever agree to become someone’s wife again, but love has an ingenious way of changing your mind. I smiled as I recalled his parachuting proposal; he knows me so well. I’m smitten. My crew will be shocked that I’m getting hitched…again. But I know they will be happy for me. I know Alex will be surprised. He really likes Miles though, so I’m sure he will be happy for us. I wondered what my crew of crazy cohorts had been up to while I was away. I secretly hoped they didn’t do anything epic without me.

I had only caught a few winks of shut-eye when I heard femme de flight attendant ask if we wanted something to eat (or rather leaning her jumbo-jugs into Miles’ mug and seductively asking him if he wanted anything to eat). Miles, of course oblivious to her sensual delivery, replied, Sure, we would love a nibble and a coffee, please. She grinned, handing him two trays of food and one coffee. I asked for another one for me, but she didn’t seem to hear me for some odd reason. I wanted to slap her nasty knockers out of his face and yell get me a damned java, trollop! She ran back a few minutes later to give Miles a refill and then split before I could top up the cup that I had waited forever to get in the first place. Whore! I gave up asking; I didn’t need more coffee anyways. I couldn’t blame our hot hostess for flirting with Miles, he is a hunk of handsome. His eyes, his smile, his accent, his intoxicating scent…Maybe we should join the Mile High Club? I couldn’t help but giggle about the irony. The thought of riding him in the teeny bathroom turned me on. I would prefer the cockpit—what a hilarious word—but the loo will have to do. I wasn’t sure I could tackle him the way that I wanted to with such limited space, but I was willing to try.

What are you thinking about? Miles’ hearty hand massaged my upper thigh and he nuzzled my neck. The idea of ravaging him in the lavatory became more intriguing. His touch makes my body lascivious—I needed him now!

Meet me in the bathroom.

You’re not serious?

As a heart attack, I purred.

Aye, anywhere, anytime my princess. Miles shifted his body to let me by him; he would follow when the coast was clear. Many of the passengers had fallen back to sleep after eating. I waited inside the powder room, anxious for his arrival. A light knock on the door followed by his low voice and my lady parts lit up. I opened the door, peeked out and pulled my hot Scot inside. The heat of Miles’ hypnotic eyes had me in an instant carnal trance. He carefully lifted me up in his arms and kissed me passionately, his hands holding my face with delicate force. When I felt the teasing slide of his tongue, I became wild. I couldn’t wait to feel him, all of him. My hungry fingers fumbled as I tore at his pants and pulled down his boxers; his hard-on sprung free, eager to be inside of me. He pushed my skirt up over my hips, shredded off my thong and leaned me against the door. His sturdy arms held me up and I whimpered into his ear as he plunged himself into me. The force of our sex crashed heavy against the door and I hoped it would hold us. Miles drove into me again and again, the sound echoed inside the cabin and I worried that everyone would hear us. Did I really care? The possibility of someone knowing or us getting caught excited me even more. I moaned as he pulsed inside me, his length filling me completely, deliciously. Grinding up and into me Miles groaned and the sound pushed a button somewhere inside of me that unleashed a frenzy: I was about to lose all control.

Ah…so good, God…I can’t.

Oh God…Miles…yes!

His pace quickened; I gasped, wanting to hold on, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

Oh God, Dylan, Miles hissed into my ear.

His lips found their way back to mine; little strokes of his tongue glided so sensually it made my nipples harden. His slick cock sliding to the end of me and back, I squeezed my thighs tight around him. I shook and whimpered as I shattered around him. He continued to push into me, rocking in and out, my body drumming against the door. Miles groaned as his cock throbbed and twitched inside of me; his orgasm left him limp as his face fell into my chest. The hinges on the door flexed about to buckle…would we fall out the door?

Are you okay in there? An agitated female voice asked, perhaps for a second time.

Yes, sorry, almost finished, I answered, and then not being able to contain ourselves, we both burst out laughing. I think I bruised every inch of my body smashing it against every surface of the sardine can, but it was worth it. I feared that we would have an audience as we exited…and I was correct in that assumption.

I came out first and a few people giggled and pointed. Then Miles came out and a crowd of men cheered. My cherry cheeks gave away my embarrassment. I had no choice but to respond comically, so I curtsied, careful not to lift my skirt too high since I no longer was wearing any panties. Miles bowed, still adjusting himself and we both laughed. Our female flight attendant was displeased and hurried us back to our seats. She looked like she wanted to toss us out the side door. Miles received congratulations and a few high fives from the young lads as we walked back down the aisle of shame.

Well, Miles picked up my hand and kissed it, grinning wildly.

Well, what? I cockily smirked.

Are you good until we get home now?

I’ll let you know.

Miles shook his head and chuckled at me. He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. We sat still, buckled and behaving for the rest of our flight.

Dylan ~ Explain the Insane

I mean no offence when I refer to myself or anyone else as bonkers, nutters, berserk, lunatic, psycho or unhinged. How else can I describe my demeanor, conduct, or actions? My combined personal experiences and thoughts have shaped the woman I am today. I diagnose myself as "Good Crazy. I often use comedy to relieve the pain of my past. Humor can heal. The difference between illness and wellness is largely defined by who is experiencing the symptoms and who is perceiving/diagnosing the condition. In addition to family roots, milieu and the socio-economic status of the group to which they belong, people define their life experience and worth through a collection of their individual experiences and how others around them mirror their status. In my opinion, there are two main categories of crazy: Good Crazy" (a person whose behavior is atypical but functional) and "Bad Crazy."

Good Crazy: Munificent, generous, bountiful, magnanimous, kind, unselfish and philanthropic. Munificent persons are frequently intelligent, creative free spirits with an internal drive continually pushing them to achieve greatness. They tend to be wild, fun, playful, passionate, hyper, expressive, fearless, courageous, eager, impatient, ambitious and energetic, thoughtful people-pleasers. For instance: comedians, musicians, actors, writers, dancers, painters, sculptors, builders and athletes. They strive to achieve difficult goals and are motivated by tasks. Passionate persons both worshipped and condemned, they face the potential danger of falling from confident to self-conscious. Good Crazy = tortured geniuses.

Bad Crazy: Malevolent, malicious, hostile, evil-minded, venomous, vindictive and vengeful. The malevolent are often narcissistic, intelligent, arrogant, cynical, domineering, intolerant, miserable, selfish, crafty, callous and deceitful. Out for themselves, these individuals don’t care much about others’ feelings or needs. These terrifying creatures attempt to masterfully manipulate, managing to brainwash others and control them like puppets to serve their own purposes.

The very first time I became aware of how different I was from others was my first year of college. High school may have hinted that I didn’t blend in, but college confirmed it. I attended a party as an uninvited guest with a posse of people who shared my lunatic lust for life. The fact that a sorority sister answered the door (pleased to see so many eligible, beautiful bachelors, I presume) was the only reason I was allowed to tag along. Alex had come to visit me with three handsome friends and I brought Jimmy, my only friend so far. I had a meager handful of acquaintances; not many quality cohorts had yet come my way.

Thankfully, Alex scored Friday off—no classes—so he decided to drive up and visit me with some of his amigos. We embraced for a full fifteen when he first arrived. I couldn’t be happier to be reunited with my best friend. I missed him; being so far from him hurt.

Welcome, gentlemen, Dina giggled and squeaked, twirling her finger through her frenzied Linda Blair hair. If I can get you anything, please do let me know.

The frisky feline had her flirt on full blast, ready and waiting for her next victim. I recognized her from my art class.

She came on to each guy as they entered, her fake laughter filling the hallway. The Pratt people adored Dina; one month in and she knew half the school. This particular evening she looked like she’d downed an entire boner buffet: her hair a mat of waves headed in every direction, frosty lipstick smeared. Perhaps she’d recently climbed down from jizz mountain, sticky skank. I might have been a little jealous of her popularity.

Well D, should we show these simple people how it’s done? Alex asked.

Let’s light it up!

And that we did: deranged dancing, singing with the DJ, followed by a comedy routine of filthy jokes; fairly low key (that was until my first sip of terror tequila). I blame Alex’s chums, specifically Steve, who brought the bottle. We did shot after shot until Daredevil Dylan appeared. Two girls had sandwiched Alex; occupied with his harem, he was ignorant to the beginnings of my tornado of mania. Off came my clothes, revealing my cheeky briefs, sports bra and a smile. I hijacked a nearby guitar and the owner didn’t protest. I played for a moment and sang along with the music. I got bored and ran outside, guitar strapped to me along with a cigar and toxic beverage in hand. Steve informed Alex and Jimmy of my unclothed escape outdoors. The league of my gentlemen chased after me. A collection of spectators watched as I hopped onto the hood of a car, shredding my axe and belting out my acoustic rendition of Let’s Go Crazy. Between song sets, I finished my drink and shoved the empty plastic cup under my bra strap. Flashing cherry lights lit up the street beside me. A cop coupe caught up with me before my men did—not a good scene. The furious feds coaxed me off my stage, the vehicle hood.

This tune’s for you, fine feds! Saucily, I slid off the car, soliciting my inner sexy voice and serenading the bitter badge boys with Mr. Policeman.

Oblivious to my situation, I paused to take a puff of my cigar, blowing circles in an officer’s face. His partner tried hard not to laugh at my shenanigans.

Excuse me, Officers, please, we’re friends. She’s had too many and she didn’t damage anything, Alex explained, winded. Al and my assortment had finally caught up to my situation. I have to charge her with public intoxication. She’s very lucky she didn’t damage the vehicle, very lucky. I assume you don’t have any identification on you? I presume you’re underage? The middle-aged officer sternly growled.

This goof is a goon!

Dylan, be quiet! Holding my arm, Alex spoke with the officer on my behalf. She’s twenty-one, Officer, he lied to save me.

I.D.? I’ll show you some I.D. I began to peel off my panties to flash my fanny until Alex stopped me. Kiss my… Alex slapped his hand over my mouth before I could say, …keister, fun-busters! He took his own shirt off, forcing it onto my nearly naked body. I struggled, not wanting to wear anything.

Dylan, you are wearing my shirt. Behave yourself, you’re in enough trouble. I put the stupid shirt on. I whined, sneering at him.

I’m hot, Ociffers. Why do I need clothes? And… I tapped the younger officer on the shoulder, um…when did singing become a crime? I scrunched up my face, still sneering. I winked and danced around them, blind to how much trouble I was in. It’s Saturday night, guys! Let’s rock out with our cocks out! Balls yeah! You two boys in blue kick it off.

Ma’am, you need to settle down or you will be getting more than a ticket.

Dylan, please shut it, Alex ordered, frustrated.

Aye-aye, Captain! I mocked, ignoring him. Can I go for a ride in your squad car? I whined.

You may not, in fact.

I could take you lads home, I’m a great driver.

You are inebriated and you, young lady, will be going straight home, or we will place you behind bars for the evening. Your choice.

I am right-tight, Officer Obvious. My choice is…no cage! I’m not ‘ma’am,’ by the way. Ma’am is my mother’s name. Everyone just needs to re-re-relax. I pointed at the handsome patrolman, hiccupping. "You, you fine one, may c-cuff me anytime. Is that a p-pistol or are you h-happy to see me?" I snatched the cute cop’s cap off his head and put it on my melon. The young officer shut his eyes, blushing. He grinned and gently removed the hat from my head and placed it back on his own.

Dylan, stop it! Seriously! Alex scolded me again shaking his head, embarrassed. The others snickered behind us. An audience on the street laughed as I carried on with comedy hour. Alex held my axe, slapping my hands away. I pouted when he wouldn’t let me have it. Every prop had been seized, including my cigar, party poopers! My man-mates struggled to keep me silent. I danced quietly on the sidewalk for a moment.

Nothing more majestic than a man in uniform. I smirked at them friskily, curbside, leaning heavy on one leg and sticking my behind out. I blew kisses and commented on how handsome they both were—hopeful they’d re-think my ticket.

The PoPo muttered quietly out of my earshot. One officer came over to Alex and explained that he would convince the other officer to let me go with a firm warning if he would promise to take me straight home. When I attempted to thank him, Alex put his hand over my mouth again. I fluttered my lashes, smiled with my eyes and waved at him, flirting without words. He nodded, smiled and chuckled all the way back to the cruiser. My brood of boys herded me home, not letting me out of their sight.

Fun-filled Friday ended and my headache began. Alex drove me back to his hotel room so he could address my foul behavior with no one else present. Please tell me this is the first time you have stripped your clothes off at a party and ran down a street?

First time, I think.

You better be joking!

"I’m joking, relax, fuck! Please lower your roar. I have a huge head of hurt. I’m pretty positive alcohol is devil juice—I know it’s bad for me, yet I go back for more. My satanic sarcasm and shenanigans are scandalous when I down that demon sauce and I always suffer one hell of a headache."

God girl, you are some kind of crazy. What am I going to do with you? Alex reminisced about the previous evening, snickered and shook his head.

I’m good crazy.

’Good crazy,’ huh? More like ‘straight-jacket crazy!’

Ouch, words hurt, Alex.

Do you remember what you did last night?

I think so.

Uh huh, meaning no.

I’m sorry, I know better than to get tanked on tequila.

You’re erratic enough without that ethanol. Crazy clashed with cuckoo last night. You’re entirely too much trouble on that firewater. I prohibit you from drinking it.

You prohibit me? You can’t ban me from drinking, Alex. You’re not my father! And for the record, I’ve rescued you in such a state.

I suppose. I’m a guy though, it’s different.

Fuck that! Different? Don’t give me that load of bullshit! I’m in college, I’m supposed to have fun.

I want you to have fun, just keep your fucking clothes on, stay inside and no more tequila! Dylan, do you remember what you did on the walk back to your dorm?

I don’t recall. I’m blank after my stage performance.

Let me bring you up to speed, sweetheart. On the walk back to your dorm you made out with two of my friends at the same time. Two! You were an absolute fucking disaster. I basically locked you in your room with your roommate and dragged my worked up friends back to the hotel with me. What the hell were you thinking? Fucking seriously, Dylan, you need to be more careful. I’m surprised you’re not more prudent, considering...

I don’t remember making out with them. I’m sorry, Al. I wasn’t thinking, I don’t know why I did it. I will be more careful. I won’t drink tequila unsupervised ever again.

Dylan, you have to know that men are pigs. I never thought I would have to explain that to you. Males will do and say anything to get in your pants. You can’t tease them like that, especially when drunk, it’s too risky.

Okay. I got it. I’ll behave. I lose my mind on that giggle water.

Have you…I mean, are you still...?

Are you?

I asked you first.

No.

No?

"I briefly dated an older guy from N.U. I met him the first week of college. He’s my roommate’s cousin…she set us up. We didn’t last long, maybe two and a half weeks. We mutually decided we were too different. I found him physically attractive, otherwise we had nothing in common—no chemistry. He’s an intellectual, not much of a sense of humor. We were doomed from the beginning. I regret it, actually. I wished it could have been with someone I loved." I looked at Alex. It should have been him. He sighed, taking a deep breath and exhaled a low growl of disappointment. He shut his eyes. He probably didn’t want to look at me anymore.

You’re mad.

I have no right to be mad. I can’t expect you to wait forever, I guess. I prayed you would become a nun, or at least take a vow of celibacy until you were sixty-something. It makes me sick picturing you with anyone, honestly.

A nun, Alex, seriously? I snickered.

I’m aware you’re no angel. I can’t help hating that some creep had his way with you. Tell me this ‘cousin’ was gentle with you. We cozied up on the couch and continued our heart to heart. I guzzled a gallon of water hoping to drown my suffering and replenish my fluids. I seized the rest of Alex’s muffin mid-munch.

He wasn’t overly awful. I cried, during and after, terrifying the hell out of him. I lied, telling him that it was painful since I was a virgin. He was afraid to touch me after that. Probably another reason we didn’t continue dating. I couldn’t tell him the real reason why I cried. You know why, you are the only one who knows why. I wish you would have been the one. Truth be told, I didn’t enjoy it much at all — he didn’t seem to know what he was doing and I sure didn’t know what I was doing. It was awkward, uncomfortable, painful and unpleasant. I felt guilty and I felt dirty, disgusted with myself and with him, even though he did nothing wrong; I forced myself on him. I struggled with my sexual self-worth. I prayed my shame would soften one day. The strangest thing is the fact that even though I had such sensitivities, I desired more sexual experience—perhaps in hopes of getting past my past? I didn’t mean to make Alex feel bad, but I couldn’t help my feelings.

Dylan, that is so unfair.

Maybe it is unfair, but it’s how I feel.

You know I couldn’t be the one.

I know. You’ve made that crystal clear. It’s too late, anyway.

You’re making me feel like shit.

I’m sorry, Al. I don’t mean to; I’m just being honest with you.

Can we talk about something else now, please? Alex ran his hands through his hair and leaned back with a growl.

Not so fast, my friend, it’s your turn. I know you long lost your virginity. Over a year is my guess. That Thanksgiving weekend you came to see me? I saw it in your eyes. I knew, but didn’t want to know. I was insanely jealous. I didn’t want to know anything about her, I still don’t. I’m right, aren’t I?

Not exactly.

No? When then? I know you’re not a virgin.

No, I’m not. Dylan, I had sex with a college girl right after prom.

What?

You had me all confused. I got concerned about being around you all aroused. I couldn’t tell you. I would have preferred to never tell you, in fact.

You fucking bastard! You denied me and fucked the first frisky feline that came along?

I’m sorry, Dylan. You know I couldn’t take your virtue; we’ve had this conversation. I will never risk losing you. I can’t compromise our love; our friendship means the world to me.

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, you’re a damned broken record. I’m still pissed you didn’t tell me.