Breathless

by HELEN HARDT

  Again, I nodded.

  “I’m sorry it’s taken a while, but the three of us are on the same page. Even though Ry and Joe aren’t here, I know they wouldn’t mind me telling you what we’ve been discussing, especially since you came here today asking for a job. The three of us want you to be a part of Steel Acres, and not just as a ranch hand, Bryce. You have a ton to offer, and we need you.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  Very kind of him, but it wasn’t true. The Steels did not need me. They had a first-class, billion-dollar operation that was thriving despite the trauma of the past year. If they truly wanted to bring me on, it was probably out of pity. Pity for me because of what my father had done. What my father had been, and the fact that he’d basically left my mother and me penniless.

  “You’re worth a lot more to us than a hard laborer, Bryce,” Talon continued. “We’re prepared to make you a solid offer that includes a profit share.”

  I widened my eyes without meaning to. A profit share? Even a tiny share would amount to more money than I’d seen in my lifetime. As much as I just wanted to labor—do physical work without thinking—I had an obligation to my son. This could mean everything for him.

  I cleared my throat. “That’s generous of you. What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “I don’t want to get into all the details without Joe and Ryan here, but it’s an offer you won’t be able to refuse.” He smiled and took a drink of his bourbon.

  “All right. I’ll hear you out.” I took another sip. “But honestly, Tal, all I really want is to do a hard day’s work for a fair wage. I need to help my mom and support my son. I don’t want a lot of time for…”

  “For what?”

  “For thinking, man. I want to work my body so damned hard that I collapse from exhaustion. Surely you get what I mean.”

  He nodded. “I do get it. Why do you think I joined the army? Went to Iraq? I was running, Bryce. Running from a bunch of shit I didn’t want to face. But you can only run for so long before your legs give out and the past hits you in the gut.”

  “Look,” I said seriously. “I’m not equating your ordeal with what I’m dealing with. It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t belittle your own situation. Your father turned out to be something horrible, and now you have to live with that.”

  “But nothing was done to me.”

  “Sure it was. Maybe not the same way it was done to me, but you’re going through your own hell right now. Own it, man. Accept it. Only then can you begin to get over it.”

  I shook my head, chuckling softly. “You’re something. You really are.”

  “I’m just a guy. My past doesn’t define me. My father doesn’t define me. And your father doesn’t define you.”

  I smiled. “Melanie must be a hell of a therapist.”

  “She is. And she’s an even better sister-in-law. She’s the best.”

  “Maybe I’ll talk to her.”

  “She’d be happy to help. Or if you’re uncomfortable with her, she can refer you to someone else.”

  Therapy. We were getting a little off the subject, and I was feeling more than uncomfortable. Talon Steel was everyone’s hero. I was a self-absorbed douchebag.

  Big-time.

  I stood, swallowing the last of my bourbon. “Okay. You guys are really generous. I’ll hear you out. Just call me and let me know when the three of you want to get together. I should probably be going.”

  “You sure? We can have another drink. Catch up on other stuff.”

  What other stuff? Ruminating about my father had been my life for the past couple months. Hell, I wasn’t even being a father to Henry. I’d told myself on more than one occasion that I was laying off for my mom’s sake, that she needed to focus on Henry right now. That was all true, but there was more to the truth.

  I was feeling unworthy. Unworthy of being a father. What if I went crazy and turned out like my old man?

  No way would I put my little boy in danger.

  No fucking way.

  I raked my fingers through my hair.

  Fuck.

  “Another time. Let me know when you guys want to talk.” I set the glass down on Talon’s desk and walked out of the office.

  When I walked past the kitchen, Marjorie had her back to me and was loading the dishwasher. Her dark hair fell in long waves nearly to her perfect ass. Her skinny jeans accented her long and shapely legs. God, those legs… They went on forever. How I’d love to have them around my neck as I pumped into her perfect body…

  Damn. I needed to get out of here.

  I was in no condition to begin a relationship, and neither was she.

  We could have a fuckfest, but Marjorie Steel wasn’t the one-night-stand type. Instinctively I knew that. Plus, Joe and I had been friends for over thirty years. I couldn’t risk a one-nighter with his baby sister.

  I reached toward the doorknob—

  “Bryce!” Footsteps sounded behind me.

  I turned. Marjorie’s big brown eyes seared me. So beautiful. And that body. And those hands. I chuckled. She was wearing rubber gloves, the long yellow kind that my mom used to use while cleaning toilets when I was a kid.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry. The rubber gloves.”

  “I just got a manicure yesterday.” She cringed a little. “Crap. That sounded so Steel ranch heiress, didn’t it?”

  “My mom gets manicures sometimes, and she’s sure no heiress.”

  “Something I learned when I started cooking. Kitchen work is murder on my hands, so I use rubber gloves. They’re hot and sweaty, but my hands stay silky smooth.” She cocked her head. “Why am I explaining this to you exactly?”

  “You don’t owe me any explanation. I get the gloves. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  “Marjorie Steel wearing rubber gloves. It’s like the ultimate paradox.”

  She huffed. “I get the feeling that was an insult.”

  “Not at all. You’re just so beautiful, so glamorous. The rubber gloves are the ultimate contradiction to that.”

  She swallowed. “You think I’m beautiful and glamorous?”

  “I have eyes, don’t I?”

  She softened and peeled off the gloves slowly. Damn. My groin tightened. Removing rubber gloves, and she made it look like she was on stage, stripping.

  Once revealed, her hands were smooth with slender fingers, nails painted red. Classic and perfect.

  Long fingers that could so easily wrap around my bulging cock…

  Damn.

  Her cheeks pinked. Had she read my thoughts? No. She was reacting to my “beautiful and glamorous” comment.

  I cleared my throat. “I have to be going.”

  “Did you and Talon have a nice talk?”

  Did she know what her brothers were up to? Of course she did. She was a quarter owner of the ranch.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled.

  “I hope you’ll consider their offer, Bryce. We need you here.”

  Talon had said the same thing, but it was a lie. The Steels didn’t need me. My son did. My mother did.

  “I don’t actually know what the offer is yet. Tal said he wanted to wait until all three of them could talk to me.”

  She pulled at the rubber gloves she still held. “Believe me. It’s an offer you won’t be able to refuse.” Again, she echoed Talon’s words. “It would be nice…”

  “It would be nice…what?”

  “It’d be nice to have you around here more.” She continued to fidget with the gloves. “That’s all.”

  I nodded. What could I say?

  Her bottom lip trembled a bit. Just a bit, but I noticed. Kiss me. Kiss me. The slight tremble echoed the words.

  I tried to hold back. Truly I did.

  To no avail.

  My lips came down upon hers.

  Chapter Five

  Marjorie

  Talon
was around somewhere. Probably close. The boys were out back.

  Anyone could walk by and see us making out by the front door.

  Anyone.

  I didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

  Every part of me became hypersensitive and tingly as Bryce swept his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of vanilla, oak, a touch of caramel. Peach Street bourbon. Of course. Talon had given him a drink of his favorite.

  I wasn’t a bourbon drinker, but mixed with the essence of Bryce, this whiskey was my new passion. An elixir I wanted more and more of.

  When Bryce deepened the kiss, I groaned. It wasn’t the bourbon at all. God, no. It was all Bryce. The intense flavor, the fragrance of cedarwood and spice, the powerful pressure of his firm lips on mine…

  All Bryce.

  All me.

  All Bryce and me.

  No wonder I’d yearned to complete our earlier kiss. This was heaven. Pure heaven.

  Reality hit me like a brick, and I broke the kiss with a smack. Bryce’s blue eyes widened, but I didn’t explain. I grabbed his hand, looking around quickly, and pulled him out of the foyer, down the hallway to my bedroom. Once we were inside, I closed the door quietly and locked it.

  “Marj—”

  I quieted him with a touch of my fingers to his lips. “Shh.” Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him toward me, our lips meeting once more.

  I’d been ready to take the lead, but I didn’t have to. He thrust his tongue into my mouth and kissed me deeply. Passionately. I eagerly returned his enthusiasm, our tongues dueling and twirling.

  I’d dreamed of this for so long. So, so long.

  Watching all my brothers find love.

  Love?

  Why was I thinking about love?

  This was just a kiss with a man I was very attracted to, a man I’d known since…

  Oh, God…

  Stop. Need to stop.

  Don’t want to stop…

  I didn’t have to. Bryce pulled away, breaking the suction of our mouths.

  His eyes seared into mine. They were dark blue and smoky with desire. I touched his cheek, his sandy stubble rough under my smooth fingertips. Rough. Perfect.

  He grabbed my wrist, gently removing my hand. “Don’t,” was all he said.

  I bit my lip. The word “sorry” hovered back in my vocal cords, but I couldn’t bring it forth. Simple. I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t sorry at all.

  Finally, I said, “Why?”

  He turned away from me, saying nothing.

  Nope. That was not going to cut it. I grabbed his arm and forced him to turn back around and meet my gaze.

  “You wanted that kiss as much as I did, Bryce. Now tell me why you stopped it.”

  “We’re in your bedroom, for God’s sake.”

  “So?”

  “Marj, this bedroom used to be painted pink and yellow with a unicorn theme.”

  He remembered that? I’d painted over those walls over a decade ago and discarded the stuffed unicorn collection before then. I held back a giggle. “Again…so?”

  “You were a little girl. You were five when Joe and I graduated high school.”

  “Once more…so?”

  “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

  “Don’t treat me like a moron, Bryce. I’m not five. I’m nearly twenty-six. I haven’t had unicorns on my walls since I was twelve. Look around you. I have white walls with portraits of famous chefs. I’m a grown woman. A grown woman who is more than capable of deciding who she wants to kiss. And by the way, you were kissing me back.”

  “I’m not denying that.”

  “You said I’m beautiful and glamorous. You’re attracted to me.”

  “I’d have to be blind not to be attracted to you.”

  Good. Now we were getting somewhere. I wasn’t asking him for anything more than a kiss. I smiled.

  “Your brothers…” he began.

  “My brothers love you, Bryce. All three of them.”

  “Maybe so. But they don’t want me kissing their baby sister.”

  I smiled again, in what I hoped was a seductive manner. “It might surprise you to know that I don’t ask my brothers’ permission before I decide to kiss someone.”

  “In Jamaica, they didn’t like it when…”

  “When what?”

  “I made a comment about how attractive you were. They all looked like they were ready to set hellhounds on me.”

  I sat down on my bed with a plunk. “My brothers are protective. Not a big surprise there. But you kissed me back, Bryce, so what is this really about?”

  He paced around the room, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “It’s about that. It’s about a lot of things.”

  “I’m not asking for forever. Just for a kiss. A kiss we were both enjoying. Or did I read you wrong?” I tensed. What if he said I had read him wrong?

  “You didn’t read me wrong.”

  Thank God. I relaxed my muscles. “Then what’s the problem? And if you say pink and yellow unicorns or my brothers, I’m liable to punch you in the nose.”

  He laughed. God, he was gorgeous when he laughed. He had a dimple on his left cheek. Just one. A perfect imperfection.

  “The unicorns and your brothers are definitely a consideration, but there’s a bigger and more important thing.” He raked his fingers through his sandy hair. “You deserve better, Marjorie.”

  “Seriously? You’re Joe’s best friend. You’re one of the best men I know. My brothers love you.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I’m a mess right now. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

  He was a mess? So was I. I wasn’t looking for anything permanent. “All I’m asking for is a kiss.”

  His eyes burned into me. “What if I can’t stop at a kiss?”

  My nipples hardened, pressing against my bra. “What if you can’t? What if I can’t? We’re both adults here.”

  “You’re not someone I can just fuck.”

  “What if I’m okay with that?”

  At the moment, I just wanted him. Wanted to feel his kisses, his lips all over my body, his teeth tugging on my ultra-hard nipples, his tongue probing my most private places.

  “I’m not okay with that, and I’m not ready to give more than that to you or anyone else right now.”

  My mouth dropped open. He might as well have stabbed me in my heart. He wanted me. That was clear. He wanted me as much or more than I wanted him.

  But he didn’t love me. He couldn’t love me. And he wasn’t willing to just fuck his best friend’s sister.

  I understood.

  I didn’t love him either, though I was feeling something big—bigger than I’d ever felt. Still, this was only the beginning of whatever could be between us.

  But he was saying nothing more could happen. There was no beginning. Just a fuck.

  Just one fuck.

  I did deserve more. I knew that objectively. But I was fighting my own demons, and I wasn’t ready for anything more than a fuck either.

  All I knew was that I needed those lips around my nipples. I needed them so badly.

  I lifted my T-shirt over my head.

  “Marj…”

  I paid no attention. I unclasped my bra quickly and tossed it over a chair. Then I trailed my fingers lightly over my hard nipples. A sigh escaped my throat. “Please. Please, Bryce.”

  “Fuck. Why are you doing this to me?”

  “My nipples are so hard. They need you. I need you.” I gave one a quick pinch, and a jolt arrowed straight between my legs.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Please. The word was again at my lips. But I’d begged enough already. He needed to make the next move. And if he walked away? I’d be embarrassed as all hell. But I had to believe he wouldn’t do that.

  He didn’t.

  He walked toward me, reached out, and lightly swept his fingers over one nipple. I drew in a quick breath.

  “I won’t be able to stop,” he said gruffly.


  “Who’s asking you to?” I stood and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Damn,” he said. “Damn it all to hell.”

  “Nothing worth damning here.” I undid another button. His skin was warm under my touch.

  “Marjorie…”

  “Shh…” With the last button, I parted the two sides of his shirt, revealing his tanned and muscular chest. The perfect amount of sandy hair scattered across his perfect pecs. I pressed my breasts against his warmth, my own body tingling with desire. Without thinking, I kissed his neck. His silky corded neck. Then I inhaled.

  Woodsy. Spicy. Bryce.

  “God, Marjorie. Oh my God.” He yanked on my hair, tilting my head back, and then he crushed his mouth to mine.

  Chapter Six

  Bryce

  I had no business being in this room.

  Kissing this woman.

  Feeling her beautiful breasts against my chest.

  No business.

  No business at all.

  But damn, nothing had felt this good since…

  Since fucking forever.

  Her mouth was gingery and sweet, and her tongue so soft against my own. I wanted this. Wanted to explore every crevice in her mouth, every inch of her supple body. Wanted to embed myself inside her warmth, escape my life and immerse myself solely in her beauty and her heat.

  I had nothing to offer this worthy woman. Nothing at all.

  I was empty, so empty. But filling her might ease that. Fuck. My cock strained against my jeans. I was so hard, as hard as I’d ever been. I hadn’t had sex in nearly two years. Not since Henry’s mother, and that had been a one-nighter that morphed into a quickie marriage that I still couldn’t believe had happened. Frankie was a Las Vegas topless showgirl, a hot and sexy redhead with a smoking body. I’d forgotten a condom, but she’d assured me she was on the pill, and we’d had an incredible time. I married her when she showed up at my door a few weeks later, pregnant. A couple months after Henry was born, I caught her fucking a pizza delivery guy—a scene straight out of a bad porn flick. I divorced her and she didn’t fight me on custody. In fact, she signed away her parental rights.