Irresistible: Cloverleigh Farms Standalone

by Melanie Harlow

  The problem was, I’m shit at changing pillowcases. I can get the old one off just fine, but fuck if I can get the new one on. Three minutes in, I was flustered and sweaty and still trying to shove that fat fucking pillow into the case—why the hell was this so difficult? Why was it sideways? Had the case shrunk in the dryer? Cursing, I switched on a lamp and tried again.

  Of course, she came tiptoeing down the stairs in time to see me struggling with it. Giggling, she set her clothing on the couch and reached for the pillow. “What’s happening here, is it fighting back?”

  “Yeah.” Gladly, I handed it over, groaning inwardly at the sight of her in my shirt. It was huge on her—the hem nearly reached her knees—but that was probably a good thing. I did not need to see any more of her bare legs.

  “There.” She slipped the pillowcase on with no trouble at all.

  I shook my head. “What’s the secret? And why do only women seem to know it?”

  She hugged the pillow and gave me a devious smile. “I’ll never tell.”

  God, she was cute. And sexy. And really, really close. The curtains were closed and only one lamp was on, making the room feel intimate. The house was sleepy and silent under the snow, and we were alone—whatever happened would be our secret. My mind went to a dangerous place. My heart was doing something scary in my chest.

  Nothing can happen, I told myself. Nothing.

  But instead of backing away from her and going to bed like I was supposed to, I reached for the pillow she held and tossed it onto the couch.

  Her smile faded.

  I moved closer to her. I took her face in my hands. I rubbed a thumb over her soft pink lips.

  “You should tell me to go to bed,” I said quietly.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you.”

  Her hands slid up my chest as she rose on tiptoe. “Mack. Kiss me.”

  I lowered my mouth to hers, vowing that I’d only kiss her once—one time—just to know what it was like. Of course, that was before she opened her lips and invited my tongue between them. It was before she slipped her arms around my neck and pressed her chest to mine. It was before my hands moved down her sides and crept beneath the bottom of my shirt. And it was well before she jumped up and wrapped her legs around me, entreating my hands to slip beneath that ass I’d been thinking about all day.

  Because after that, I was fucked.

  My dick was hard as a rock. My adrenaline was pumping. My willpower had disintegrated.

  I stumbled backward onto the couch and set her on my lap so she straddled my thighs. My hands stole underneath her shirt and hers slid into my hair. She sighed softly, pleadingly, as I covered her breasts with my palms and stroked her nipples with my thumbs. Her head fell to one side, and I moved my mouth down her throat, tasting her skin. My cock twitched, trapped between us.

  She took my head in her hands and brought my lips back to hers, rocking her hips, rubbing herself against me.

  Oh, God. This was getting precarious. Another minute of her grinding on me like that and I was going to embarrass us both by going off like a rocket, and I really didn’t want to do that.

  “Frannie.” I put my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “We have to stop.”

  “Because of the kids?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Because this is wrong.” Actually, I’d forgotten all about the kids, which was yet another sign that this was not a good idea. It was killing my brain cells. “Because you’re my co-worker and babysitter. Because you’re my boss’s daughter. Because I’m so much older than you. And because if you don’t stop moving like that, something is going to happen.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “In my pants.”

  She laughed a little. “I knew what you meant. But it doesn’t have to happen like that. We could …” She hesitated, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, shyer. “We could go to your bedroom.”

  I groaned. “No. We can’t.”

  “But I want to. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

  “Fuck, don’t tell me that.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  I shook my head, vowing to stay strong. “No.”

  “But—”

  “No.” Summoning up every ounce of willpower I had, and some I didn’t, I lifted her up, set her down beside me, and stood up. “No buts.”

  She looked up at me. “You don’t want to?”

  “Christ. Of course I do.” In fact, my hard-on was refusing to give up, and I had to adjust myself in my pants.

  Her expression was amused as she watched me, her eyes taking in the obvious bulge at my crotch. “Then what’s holding you back?”

  “All the things I just said!” It was a struggle to keep my voice down. I was angry and wanted to yell—not at her, exactly, but just in general. At the situation. And definitely at myself. I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Frannie. I shouldn’t have kissed you. This is my fault.”

  She sighed resignedly and shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

  “It is.” I could barely look her in the eye, but I forced myself to. “I had one job—put the fucking pillowcase on the pillow and go to bed. Instead I took advantage of you.”

  She surprised me by rolling her eyes. “Please, Mack. You did not take advantage of me. If I hadn’t been dying for you to kiss me, I’d have stayed upstairs until I was positive you were in your room. Or at least kept my pants on.”

  “You probably should have.”

  She nodded and looked down at her knees, which were pressed together. “Sorry.”

  I tried to take the edge off my voice. “You’re too young, Frannie. And if we’d let this go any further tonight, we’d both have been sorry.”

  “Too young! I’m twenty-seven.”

  “And I’m thirty-seven.”

  She lifted her chin. “I don’t care about the age difference.”

  I struggled with how else to communicate what I was thinking. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

  “Don’t,” she said tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m so sick and tired of being denied something I want for myself and being told someone is doing it for my own good. I’m not a child, Mack. I don’t need your protection.” With that she angrily grabbed the pillow, stuck it at one end of the couch and lay back, throwing the blanket over her legs.

  I was simultaneously sad to see them disappear and glad they weren’t visible any longer.

  “Goodnight,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chin and closing her eyes.

  Accepting the fact that there was no way to exit this situation gracefully—especially not with a massive, stubborn erection—I switched off the lamp and left the room.

  Inside my bedroom, I shut the door and sat down on the foot of the bed, hands propped on my knees.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. Why was my gut churning? Hadn’t I done the right thing? Hadn’t I put my own urges aside? Hadn’t I done exactly what I’d have wanted another man to do if Frannie were one of my daughters, years from now? I flopped back on my bed and threw an arm over my eyes.

  Christ. I didn’t want to think about my daughters in the future. I didn’t want to think about them now. And I didn’t want to treat Frannie like she was one of them—because that’s not how I saw her at all. But it was wrong to want her this way. I couldn’t get past it.

  Eventually, I dragged myself off the bed and into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I undressed down to my underwear, pulled on some sweatpants, turned off the light, and crawled beneath the covers alone, which I would probably do for the rest of my fucking life.

  Except … I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those bare legs beneath the hem of my shirt. The taste of her kiss. The scent of her hair. The hard little tips of her breasts beneath my palms. The way she straddled my body and moved above me.

  My dick was so hard, and it would feel so good to be inside her. My body was des
perate for the release. And she’d wanted it too, hadn’t she? Maybe she was just as lonely as I was. Maybe she was only looking for a little companionship. A little fun. A connection.

  I found myself wavering. What would be the harm? We were two consenting adults, weren’t we? Maybe once would be okay. Maybe we could have this one moment of insanity, and then go back to normal. Maybe all I needed was to get this out of my system.

  And I was so sick and tired of feeling like my entire purpose in life was to be a Responsible Person. I used to be unpredictable. I used to be bold. I used to take risks and act on instinct and say fuck the consequences.

  My feet touched the floor, and before I knew it, I was opening my bedroom door and moving through the dark.

  Frannie

  I stared at the ceiling in the dark, alternately angry and humiliated.

  He’d wanted me, hadn’t he? Of course he had—I’d felt it between his legs. And he’d kissed me first! He’d put his hands all over my skin! My breasts ached as I recalled his touch, and the unrequited longing in my body refused to ease up. I was restless and irritated, with him and with myself.

  Although it was kind of nice that he was trying to be noble and heroic about the whole sex thing. I understood his point—he worked for my dad, so technically, yes, I was the boss’s daughter. And his part-time nanny. And ten years younger.

  But dammit, I’d been harboring this crush on him forever. I didn’t care about those other things. I wanted to be with him.

  And now he knew it. Ugh.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling like a kid who’d made a total ass out of herself in front of her teacher crush. Had I really suggested he take me back to his bedroom? Shaking my head back and forth, I tried to erase the memory of his rejection.

  So much for seduction.

  But the longer I lay there, awake and shivering a little beneath the blanket, the more I realized I wasn’t sorry for trying. At least I’d taken a risk. Acted on an impulse. Granted, it hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped, but still—Mack had kissed me.

  I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket up over my shoulder and closing my eyes.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there when I felt a hand on my hip. I opened my eyes and saw Mack crouched next to me, balanced on the balls of his feet. Shirtless.

  My breath caught.

  He put a finger to his lips.

  My heart started to pound. Was this real or a dream?

  Without wanting to know for sure, I put my hand in his and rose from the couch. He led me through the dining room and into his bedroom, closing the door soundlessly behind me.

  “Mack. What are you doing?” I whispered.

  Instead of answering, he pushed me back against the door and kissed me hard and deep, his arms caging me on either side. “I changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been lying here for fucking hours and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you.” His voice was quiet but gravelly, more growl than whisper.

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. But I’ve decided I’d rather be reckless than responsible tonight. If you’re in, I’m in.”

  I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back. “I’m in.”

  Then I grabbed the bottom of the shirt I wore and whipped it over my head. Immediately our bodies came together, our bare chests pressed tight, our mouths sealed. Somehow, we managed to make it over to the bed, where he worked his pants off and stretched out above me. My heart was pumping so furiously, I was nearly afraid the doctors were wrong and there was something it couldn’t handle—getting naked with Declan MacAllister.

  I shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “Are you serious?”

  He smiled down at me in the dark. The warmth and weight of his masculine, muscular body was like heaven, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. His erection pressed hard against me.

  “We have to be quiet,” he whispered, his breath on my lips.

  “I can be quiet,” I promised.

  “Good.” He kissed me then, sending stars shooting throughout my body, to the ends of every finger and toe. I kissed him back like I’d never kissed anyone before, like he was the air I needed to breathe. I loved the warmth of his skin on mine, the way he smelled, the thickness of his chest.

  Mack, Mack, Mack.

  He put his hands on my breasts, making me arch into his touch and bite my lip to keep from sighing too loudly. He moved his mouth down my throat and chest, stroked my tingling nipples with his tongue, teased them into unbearably hard peaks that he sucked and flicked and caught between his teeth. I wove my hands into his hair, writhing rapturously beneath him. When he kissed a path down my belly, I began to panic that I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise about being quiet.

  He barely lifted his mouth from me as he dragged my underwear from my legs. Then his head totally disappeared beneath the blanket, and he pushed my thighs apart.

  At the first sweep of his tongue, I yelped. I couldn’t help it. Immediately, I slapped a hand over my mouth. I heard him laugh before he gave me another long and luscious stroke across my clit. I yelped again and clapped the other hand over the first.

  Mack pushed the blanket off his head. “Should I stop?”

  I shook my head. Vehemently.

  “Then you have to be quiet, angel. Shhhhh.” He returned to what he’d been doing, and I whimpered helplessly behind my palms. He slid a finger inside me, and I covered my face with a pillow. He sucked my clit into his mouth while he fucked me with one finger, then two, causing my body to hum and tighten and fill with uncontrollable longing, until finally it was too much for me to contain and everything burst wide open in an explosion of stars that rained down around me.

  I might have been quiet. I wasn’t really sure.

  With one last kiss on my inner thigh, Mack moved up my body again. “Jesus Christ,” he said, his voice raw.

  “Was I too loud?” I whispered.

  “I have no idea. I was too busy trying not to come from the way you taste.” He kissed my neck. “And the way you move.” He kissed my jaw. “And the way it’s going to feel when I get inside you.” He covered my mouth with his, and I twined my limbs around him, desperate for the very same thing. I could feel how big and hard he was as he rocked his hips above me.

  “Yes,” I said against his lips. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  Mack leaned over me to open the nightstand drawer. Ten seconds later, he’d shoved his underwear off his legs and was kneeling between my legs, rolling a condom on. I’d seen other guys do this twice before, but it was always awkward and fumbling, like they hadn’t wanted me to even look at them. Granted, those had been skinny adolescent boys compared to the man in front of me now. He was mature and confident, rugged and strong. Everything about him exuded masculinity, from the stubble on his chin to the hair on his chest, to his muscular arms and thick, hard cock.

  But I barely had time to admire his silhouette in the shadowy dark before he was above me again, positioning himself between my legs, then easing inside me. Slowly. Inch by hot, rock-solid inch.

  I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes as my body got used to being stretched so tight and filled so completely.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You can tell me to slow down.” But he was already starting to move, his hips undulating over mine in deep, unhurried strokes.

  Echoing his rhythm, I moved my hips beneath his, sliding my hands down his back and whispering in his ear. “I’m more than okay. I want this so much.”

  He kept the rhythm slow and steady, his voice low in my ear. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about fucking you right here in this bed?”

  “Tell me.” I struggled to speak

  “So many nights.” He changed the angle, making me gasp and sink my teeth into his shoulder. “But you’re even better than my fantasy. Sweeter. Hotter. And I fucking love how wet you are for me. It feels
so damn good.”

  God, I loved his foul mouth. I’d donate every cent I had to the swear jaw if he’d just keep talking to me that way.

  And the way he moved, oh my God …

  Already aroused from my first orgasm, my body was more than responsive to a second one. Within a few minutes, I felt myself at the edge of the cliff once more, and every deep, hard thrust of his cock pushed me closer to jumping off. And if Mack’s strangled moans and ragged breaths were any indication, he was just as close.

  I clawed at his skin. I choked back cries. I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me, wanting more, more, more, even though I knew my body couldn’t take it. “Mack,” I begged. “Mack …” Just saying his name, feeling it on my lips as he moved inside me, was a kind of ecstasy.

  Sex with Mack was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Rougher. Deeper. More intense. It felt like the real thing, like the times before were silly imitations. And every sensation was heightened by the fact that we couldn’t be loud. It was damn near impossible! All my effort was needed to keep from crying out—in pleasure, in pain, in total disbelief that this was actually happening.

  Then he was cursing into the pillow beneath my head and his muscles clenched and I felt his orgasm rippling through his body into mine. It sent me spiraling over the heights, head over heels, spinning and falling and pulsing and holding him close as we shared this insanely powerful, extraordinary thing.

  A few moments later, he lifted his chest off mine and pulled out. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I said, disappointed he wanted to get up so fast.

  While he was in the bathroom, I lay there clutching the blankets beneath my chin. I couldn’t believe this! Just to be sure it wasn’t a dream, I pinched myself. Hard.

  Nope. It’s real.

  But now what? I couldn’t actually sleep in here, could I? No, I should go back out to the couch. We did not need his kids discovering me in his bedroom in the morning. I found my underwear at the bottom of the bed, yanked them on, and was hunting around on the floor for my T-shirt when Mack opened the bathroom door. Light spilled into the bedroom.