Haunted by the Highlander: A BDSM Story by J.A. Bailey Read Free Book Online Page B

wood
adding warmth to the grey stone. The bed canopy was the same red material as
the curtains and Samantha fought the urge to untie them and hide away from the
world. Why was it that daytime was the only time she could sleep on her own?
    Maybe Annie was right, maybe she
did need to find another man, preferably one like Marcello. It was not like
she’d made any attempts to meet anyone since her split from David six months
ago. Bloody hell, had it really been that long? No wonder she couldn’t sleep.
She sat up abruptly. She needed to get laid.
    Next weekend, she decided. Next
weekend, she’d persuade the girls to go out on the town and she’d find herself
a nice man for the night. Laughing at herself, she climbed off the bed and
unzipped her suitcase, flinging her clothes over the dark chair that occupied
one corner of the room. Yeah, right. Samantha had never done one-night stands
and she doubted she was going to start now she was nearing her thirties. What’s
more, she’d never find the dominant man she was after.
    Pausing to stare out of the
window, she conceded the Inverrock loch was beautiful - at least in an eerie
way. Surrounded by mountains and rocks, she imagined on a sunny day it would be
breath-taking.
    A flash of something caught her
eye and she pressed her nose against the cold glass. Tartan . She was
sure she had just seen the flick of a kilt rounding the corner of the castle.
But Aileen had said they were the only guests. Maybe it was one of the actors
or something.
    Another yawn overtook her and
Samantha slumped back down on the bed. They were going to be up late hunting
ghosts so she might as well close her eyes for a bit. Images of hunky kilted
men swam before her eyes as she sunk into slumber.
    ***
    Jolting upright, Samantha
clutched at her chest as her heart raced.
    “Sam,” Lucy called through the
door as she bashed at it. “Are you coming?”
    Glancing around, she realised the
room was shrouded in darkness. Pushing down that stupid feeling of someone
being behind her as she fumbled for the light switch, she slipped on her
trainers and lifted the latch on the door.
    “Come on, we’ll be late for
dinner.”
    Looking Lucy up and down,
Samantha glanced at her worn jeans. “Shit, Lucy, I didn’t realise we were
dressing for dinner.”
    “Well, hurry up and dress. I’ll
see you downstairs.”
    Nodding, she slammed the door and
scurried over to the chair where she’d abandoned her clothes. Flinging off her jeans
and jumper, she grabbed her red dress and slipped it over her head before
smoothing down her hair and slashing some lipstick across her mouth. Manoeuvring
her cleavage into place, she flicked a look in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction.
Not bad for five minutes. The red set off her blonde hair and pale skin nicely
and the tight bust of the dress emphasised her pert breasts.
    A breeze fluttered between her
thighs and she remembered she hadn’t put any knickers on yet - a habit she’d
got into recently when wearing trousers. Flinging her clothes off the chair,
she scowled. She had packed a pair surely? Wrenching open her suitcase, she
shook her head. Obviously not. Oh well, if it was good enough for a Scotsman,
it was good enough for her. Besides, her skirt was fairly long, brushing just
above her knees and it was not like there was anyone to flash. The girls had
seen it all before and probably wouldn’t care less.
    Stepping into her heels, Samantha
hauled open the door and shivered as a cold breeze flowed over her. The hallway
was dimly lit and the shadows moved, though she couldn’t figure out why. The
breeze stopped abruptly and she pulled her door shut quickly and hastened down the
stairs, her heart beating a tattoo in her chest. God, this place was creepy.
    Giggles emanated from the room to
the left of the entrance way and Samantha blew out a long breath as she found
her friends in the dining room, sat at a long dark wood table.
    Lucy looked her up and down and
whistled.