Lallybroch, 20th century
The heavy wood door closed shut with much more force than intended, though Brianna spared no second thought on it, for that front door had taken much abuse over the previous centuries, and it surely could handle a little more.
Brianna made quick work of both coat and shoes, and ran up the stairs to the first floor, bare feet threading on old steps, driven by the fire burning through her veins. The distant sound of running water came from the master bathroom at the end of the corridor, tempting in its call as she followed. She burst into the bathroom, all but slamming the door shut behind her, and was immediately surrounded by warm mist, scented just like him, invading her nostrils and arousing her even more. Her clothes were rapidly discarded, landing on a messy pile on the floor, and then she entered the shower, much to his surprise.
His shock was short lived, instantly replaced by a familiar look. It was a deeply rooted hunger for her that took over his features as soon as she grabbed his face and locked their lips. The kiss was messy at first, shaped by a desperate need for each other, though they eventually found the rhythm perfected through the years. Still, it was not enough to quench her thirst and Roger was realizing that fast. Brianna might have caught him by surprise, but he began taking the lead gradually, responding to the urgent roaming of her hands over his chest and the way her hips brushed insistently against his. The cues were obvious, she wanted him now.
Roger turned her around and pressed her body against the wall, the cold of the tiles sharp on her breasts. Brianna gasped when he entered her, quick and all at once, burying himself deeply in her. He didn’t move for a long time afterwards, while gathering fragments of self-restrain. Impatient, she squeezed him, a kind of encouragement, needing nothing else in that moment than to be well loved, hard and fast against the wall.
With a low groan, Roger started to move. Slowly at first, and gradually gaining momentum. Her hands were spread open on the tiles for support, while water poured over their joined bodies. His forehead came to rest on her shoulder, while his large hands pulled her hips eagerly against him in a desperate pace. Her head rolled back without her even realizing, allowing him unrestricted access to the skin there. It drew him in, so Roger bit the delicate spot at the base of her neck. A loud whimper, with breath mingling with clouds of steam, escaped her slightly parted lips and vibrated against the tiles.
He increased the pace until their combined moans rose above the sound of the falling water. And quite suddenly, as she pressed her ass harder against him, Roger yielded to the pleasure with a muffled grunt on her neck. In that moment, Brianna surrendered as well, closed her eyes tightly and allowed the burning rush to take over her body.
When the frenzy subsided, Roger held her securely in his arms after sensing a slight quivering from her legs. He too was unsteady, nearly blinded by mist and a tunnel vision that only saw the expanse of her wet skin. Their breath came out in heavy gasps, and Brianna felt his chest rise and fall against her back. To her amazement, he bent his head and kissed the red mark he had made on her neck.
When the fog on her mind cleared a little, she detached herself from him and stood directly under the spray of water, eyes closed, savoring the residual pulsing between her legs. Brianna came out of the shower shortly after, sparing only a satisfied grin towards him while covering her body with a towel. The layer of steam was cleaned from the mirror above the sink with one hand, with the other she picked her brush and started combing her hair, now darker and heavy with water.
“What was that?” his arms came around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.
“Should I teach you about it at this point?” she said cheekily, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Roger groaned in reply. “Ye know what I mean.”
She smiled to herself, utterly tempted to prolong the teasing to the brink of frustration, and her voice was innocently sweet when she spoke again. “Can’t I just surprise my husband in the shower?”
“Ye can, but there’s more to it.”
A ruddy eyebrow rose at its own accord. “Says who?”
“Says the one who knows ye better than yerself.” he even had the courage to smile broadly, a smug reflection.
“Oh, I see! The minister’s cat is a pompous cat.” there was a smile taking shape on her lips, though she fought it, unwilling to show she was enjoying this immensely.
Roger smiled involuntarily at the memory of the game they used to play, which, as with many other things in their life, had been left behind and forgotten in time, belonging to what felt like another life.
“Come on, out with it.” he persisted, burying his face on her neck and covering the damp skin with small kisses.
“Sometimes I forget you’re not a cat, you’re a dog with a bone.”
He didn’t speak again, but his eyes were burrowing into her own through the mirror.
“Fine,” she sighed, “I went to Jem’s school meeting today, and I was waiting there with the other mothers when your name was mentioned.”
She had felt odd ever since they came back to the rural Highlands, the feeling akin to what she felt early on after going back in time. Except they were back to the 20th century now, and it felt nearly as foreign as two hundred years ago. Technology and culture had evolved fast since they left, and they found themselves struggling to adapt, with only a general understanding of present times. Every day, they forced their brains to refresh memories of places and objects, all the while trying to suppress more recent memories of loss for the sake of sanity. And returning to a sense of normalcy among all that novelty, finding their new life as a family, a much smaller core made only of the four of them, also included such events as parent-teacher meetings.
Brianna was slightly younger and much taller than the other mothers. They looked at her suspiciously as soon as she arrived, creating wild assumptions in their minds, no doubt. She stood quietly to the side, waiting. That was until a whispered name caught her attention.
Mr. Mackenzie is a verra handsome man. said a short woman with tight, blond curls around a round face.
The assistant choirmaster? asked another.
Aye. I wouldn’t mind taking a peek underneath his kilt either. I’m sure he’s a fine one.
Brianna had stifled a laugh then, and they must have heard it, for they turned around and dared to pose a direct question to her.
Ye no agree with us?
“And?” Roger’s own question brought her mind back to the steaming bathroom.
Brianna considered the benefits of telling the full story for a moment and rapidly concluded that no harm would come from that particular truth. Still, she wondered how Roger would react, if he would be upset by her behavior. She lowered her gaze, feeling irrationally anxious for a second, even though she had only responded in kind. If anything, it could be seen as a manifestation of pride, and she felt as unapologetic about it as ever.
“And they were saying how good-looking Mr. Mackenzie was, wondering how much better he was underneath his kilt. Then, they asked my opinion having no idea who I was.”
“What did ye say?” when she didn’t reply right away, he pressed again, turning her around to face him. “Bree?”
Theirs eyes locked, blue on green, and it all came pouring out at once. “I said you were handsome indeed, much more so completely naked on my bed.”
Brianna could still see their faces turning from delight to mortified shock. All of a sudden, and quite in unison, they all reverted to their ‘respectable woman’ attitude, adjusting their wool cardigans a little tighter in the chest, and avoiding eye contact with her for the rest of the afternoon.
“Ye did not!” Roger cried.
She nodded, lips pressed together, eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. Brianna walked out of the bathroom feeling utterly satisfied in more ways than one, leaving a stunned Roger behind. At least she had the decency to blush.