by J. H. Croix
“Maybe a few days. You?”
“Same. I suppose I’ll see you at the lodge then.”
She nodded tightly. “I’ll be up later for the breakfast.”
I bit back the urge to ask her if she wanted a ride, and as I left the hotel, I decided it might be best if I steered clear of Harlow. She was much too tempting.
Chapter Four
Harlow
A few days after the wedding, I rolled my rental car to a stop in front of Ivy and Owen’s house, having decided to take Ivy up on her offer to stay at their place. Aside from craving the peace and quiet, I planned to follow up on a job lead. A position had opened up on a hotshot firefighting team in a town a few hours north of here.
I needed something to help me cut loose from my father. Being within his vicinity made it difficult to withstand his constant criticism, even though I had no doubts about what I wanted. I didn’t want to work for his company. All he cared about was money. The only reason he wanted me to work for him was to control what happened to it after he died.
I wanted no part of it.
When he’d learned I’d completed my hotshot training last year, he’d scoffed at me. You’d think he might have wondered what I was up to for a year out in Montana, but he traveled so much, he rarely knew what anyone other than himself was doing. I could’ve already been working, but events had sent my life skidding sideways.
I was finally ready to pull my life back together. Maybe becoming a hotshot firefighter was half-crazy, but I loved it. I loved the hard work, the immersion in the wilderness, and how strong it made me feel. I doubted I could do it forever, it wasn’t that kind of job, but I couldn’t rely on my father for support. I didn’t want his money, I just wanted to be free of him. A job in a town about five thousand miles away might do the trick.
Climbing out of the car, I snagged my bag out of the trunk and dug in my purse for the keys. I fit the key in the lock to the side door, only to discover it was already unlocked. With a laugh, I let myself in. Kicking off my shoes, I dropped the keys on the coffee table before tossing my bag on the sofa. Their home was all space and light and comfort. It was an octagonal shape, the middle floor where you entered wide open, with the exception of a door to the bathroom and laundry room at the back. The kitchen occupied one side with a curved island counter facing the living room. The master bedroom took up the entire upstairs of the home.
I meandered downstairs to leave my bag in the guest room and returned upstairs to ascertain if I needed to make a trip to the store. Ivy had assured me I should help myself to what they had. The kitchen was well-stocked, so I could settle in for now.
After a quick shower, I elected for nothing but comfort. No one was here to see me, so I could wear whatever I wanted. That consisted of a long T-shirt that hung just past my hips, underwear, and fuzzy socks. I felt like I was living on borrowed time. I had a lovely home, with a spectacular view of the mountains and ocean, all to myself. Heaven.
I snagged a bottle of wine from the wine rack, reminding myself to restock it before I left, then set to work making myself a quick dinner. After I ate, I grabbed my glass of wine and stood by the windows, taking in the magnificent view. The mountains were stark against the sky as the sun slid down the horizon, leaving streaks of scarlet and purple in its wake. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. The tension I’d been carrying was finally starting to unwind.
Alaska might be just what I need to make a definitive break.
“Excuse me,” a low voice said from behind me, and I nearly dropped my glass.
A prickle of awareness ran up my spine. I knew that voice—low, gravelly, and oh-so-sexy. Heat bloomed over the surface of my skin and then it occurred to me that I was close to naked. This isn’t happening. I spun around, my eyes widening the moment they locked with Max’s gaze.
His eyes narrowed. “Harlow, what are you doing here?”
“Ivy invited me to stay,” I stammered, wishing like hell I wasn’t slightly tipsy from several glasses of wine.
Of course, it just had to be Max who encountered me like this. I’d seen more of him over the last few days after the wedding. Yet, I’d always been fully-clothed and managed to keep a casual distance. Well, except for that one night, Harlow. I inwardly cringed. Shut up, brain, you aren’t helping.
Today, he wore jeans and a jersey shirt, and the faded cotton caressed his muscled chest. My eyes flew to the expanse of skin showing where the three buttons at the top were open. His skin was burnished gold. That one little spot was positively lickable.
His jeans hung low on his hips. As he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, his shirt rode up, revealing the delineated muscles at his waist. My mouth watered, and my panties were instantly damp.
“What are you doing here?”
Brilliant, Harlow, just parrot his question.
“Owen invited me to stay,” he said, his gravelly voice sending another shiver chasing over the surface of my skin.
He let his bag slide free from his hand where it fell to the floor with a thump. I gave myself a mental shake. Just looking at him had heat coiling in my belly.
“Oh,” I finally managed to say.
My conversational skills seemed limited by his presence. Slightly fuzzy from the wine and my body betraying me, I needed to get a grip fast.
“Um…”
Yet again, my conversational prowess was proven when I couldn’t form more than a single syllable. His gaze flicked down over my body before meandering back up, too slowly for my comfort. My nipples perked up at his perusal. I fairly burned with need from nothing more than a look from him.
“I suppose Ivy and Owen didn’t chat about this,” Max said with a wry grin when his eyes finally made their way back to mine.
I stayed silent, because I knew Ivy had told Owen I would be staying for a week. I wondered just what they were up to.
“I can get out of your hair,” I finally said.
Max started walking in my direction, his stride slow and purposeful. With every step, my channel clenched and my belly fluttered, spinning wildly. My breasts felt tight and achy, and my pulse went wild.
I take it back. I know exactly what Ivy and Owen are up to.
Chapter Five
Max
Walking toward Harlow, my mind considered two courses of action. One would be for me to do the sane thing and leave. Now.
The other would be for me to do precisely what I wanted—give in to the urges I’d been beating back for three long days. Because I wanted Harlow. With such ferocity, I could hardly bear it.
Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips stained red from the wine she held in her hand. Her complete lack of artifice was so refreshing; she seemed oblivious to how beautiful she was. Her T-shirt hung just past her hips, and she wore a pair of bulky wool socks that reached halfway up her calves. Though her T-shirt was loose, it didn’t do a damn thing to hide her assets, so to speak.
The fabric stretched across her breasts, her nipples pressing against it. Lust cracked its whip, the bite of it tightening every fiber within me.
One look at her, and I was on fire. I made a calculated decision. Even though Harlow was a friend of one of my best friends, the likelihood our paths would cross again was slim. If she worked for her father, I might have had to worry about encountering her, but apparently, she was a firefighter. I didn’t even know what the hell to think of that.
I calculated three days tangled up with Harlow might be enough to burn the need to ashes.
When I reached her, her breath hitched slightly. My eyes flicked down to see her pulse fluttering in her neck. The urge to dip my head and drag my tongue along the soft skin there and taste the hint of honey and vanilla drifting to me was almost overpowering.
I gave myself a mental shake, attempting to shackle the need pounding through me. As if she could read my thoughts, her rich brown eyes darkened.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“What’s that?”
&
nbsp; “I doubt our paths will ever cross again. I want you, and you want me.”
Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. “I don’t…”
Her words trailed off as I held her gaze. “I’m a gentleman. I won’t do anything you don’t want. But I think it’s silly to deny the obvious.”
I might not have known Harlow very well, but I sensed steel underneath her quiet exterior. The air around us heated, fairly crackling with the force of the desire between us. I wasn’t prone to fanciful thinking, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks scattered around us.
Harlow took a gulp of her wine. Anger flashed in her eyes, and my cock strained against my fly.
“I wasn’t going to deny the obvious,” she finally said, resting her free hand on her hip, conveniently hitching her T-shirt up just enough to reveal the curve of her hip. “But that doesn’t mean I want to do anything about it.”
She was a sensible woman. I was a sensible man. Usually.
In this moment, however, rational thought was hard to find. The only thing I hoped to do just now was persuade her not to worry about the future—to agree with me on this foolish gamble. We could burn this to ashes and walk away unscathed.
Before I realized what I was doing, I lifted a hand, brushing a loose lock of hair away from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. I felt the shiver that ran through her, my own body tightening in response.
“I’m simply proposing a clean, three-day window. Just us. We’ll let this play out and then walk away. That’s it. I won’t lie. I don’t do relationships. If you’re worried about that, there’s no need.”
Harlow stared at me, her lips parting slightly, her tongue darting out to swipe across her bottom lip. I wished I could see into her mind. I didn’t usually give a damn what anyone was thinking. With Harlow, I did. I wanted to know what made her tick.
Walking away from her father’s business didn’t make sense. Being a firefighter didn’t either. But then, in a way, it did. I could sense her strength and an edge of recklessness to her. I sensed she tried to keep herself buttoned up tight, and I wanted to set her loose. She took another gulp of wine, turning quickly and striding away. As if an invisible thread attached me to her, I reflexively followed.
“Well?”
Her breath hitched again. All she had to do was breathe, and I wanted her so fiercely, I ached.
“Okay,” she said softly.
That was all I needed. I caught the dark fall of her hair in my hand, winding it around my fist. Stepping closer, I came flush against her back, almost groaning aloud when the achingly hard length of my cock fit between the cheeks of her lush bottom. Her head fell back against my shoulder.
Dusting kisses along her neck, her skin pebbled under my lips. A soft moan escaped when I dragged my tongue along the same path.
She stiffened and then pushed away, spinning to face me. Her hair slipped loose from my hand as her heated gaze collided with mine.
Chapter Six
Harlow
“A few ground rules,” I said, as I stared into Max’s eyes and scrambled for purchase inside my mind and body.
Making eye contact was downright dangerous. Hell, he was downright dangerous.
Max met my eyes and arched a brow. That was all it took to send another wash of heat through me, and flutters spinning in my belly. Being close to him made me feel half-crazy. It felt as if the air around us was alive, shimmering with desire. It was hard to imagine Max wanted me as much as I wanted him, but the look in his eyes told a different story. His gaze was dark and so intent, it took my breath away.
I was simply standing there, staring at him, when he arched his brow a little higher, his mouth curling at the corner in a grin, promptly sending my belly into a flip.
What was I saying? Rules, right. I said we needed ground rules.
They were more for me than him. I was already in over my head. My tendency to want to be wrapped in someone’s strength, my fascination with falling in love—those urges were fierce.
This attraction ran too deep, a force I couldn’t resist.
“Ground rules,” I repeated. I meant to speak firmly, but my voice came out husky.
I straightened my shoulders and felt, rather than saw, his gaze flick down to my breasts. My nipples tightened further, perking up and all but begging on my behalf. I felt my cheeks heat when his eyes raised again, a gleam of mirth there.
“Please tell me the ground rules, Harlow.”
Every time he said my name, it felt as if he was making love to it. Slightly gruff and low, his voice sent a shiver through me.
“Not three nights, one night.”
This rule went against everything I wanted, but I couldn’t let myself have more.
It felt as if Max could see straight through my bullshit. He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I rested a hand on my hip, narrowing my eyes and attempting to look stern. “That’s one of my rules. One night.”
His smile was slow and devastating. “If you still say the same thing tomorrow morning, then you have my word.”
Oh, he was so arrogant!
“How do I know you’re a man of your word?”
Despite my annoyance, I was enjoying this. With heat blooming through me, acutely aware of the moisture between my thighs, I lifted my chin.
Max chuckled. “Owen is one of my best friends. If you know him well, which I understand you do, then you can trust my word. Feel free to call him and verify.”
Despite my misgivings about the state of my heart, and my tendency to fall head over heels in love with men who were terrible for me, I trusted Max. For the very reason he noted.
“Fine.”
“No need to call to verify?” he countered.
I shook my head.
“Any more ground rules?”
“This is a one-time thing.”
Max nodded solemnly. “I’m not guessing our paths will cross again. If they do, there will be no expectations. Anything else?”
Need coiled tightly in my core, anticipation fairly vibrating through me. I shook my head. I didn’t have any more rules, but now the moment was upon us. Simply having Max close to me nearly made me burst into flames.
He reached out, catching my hand in his, and closed the distance between us. When the heat and strength of his body came against mine, my pulse took off like a rocket. My breath came in shallow pants as need spun through my veins.
“Harlow,” he said.
He threaded a hand into my hair, sliding it down to cup the nape of my neck. Goose bumps chased over my skin in the wake of his touch.
Then, his lips were on mine. I couldn’t say what I had expected, but I suppose I expected him to dominate instantly. In a way, he did, but not in the way I imagined. The moment his lips met mine, a jolt of electricity shot through me, striking me at my core.
His touch was just a brush of his lips against mine. He kissed one corner of my mouth and then the other, effectively wiping away my defenses. His tongue swiped across my lips and swept into my mouth. He still gripped one of my hands, but slid his other palm down my spine and over my bottom, palming it and rocking his arousal into me.
He was fully clothed, while I wore practically nothing. I should have felt vulnerable. I did, but not in the way I expected. My heart was instantly at risk; my tricky, oh-so-wishful heart savored his strength and the depth of need burning between us.
With his tongue tangling with mine, the feel of his arousal hard and hot at the apex of my thighs, a surge of power rolled through me. That this man could want me this boldly was a heady sensation. When he drew back slightly, catching my bottom lip in his teeth, I tried to grab onto some semblance of control as I gulped in air.
“Harlow,” he murmured, his gruff voice sending goose bumps prickling over my skin again.
Opening my eyes, I found his gaze waiting, the icy blue darkened to a rich sapphire. His gaze was so intense, I couldn’t look away.
I tried to cat
ch my breath, managing to murmur, “Yes?”
He loosened his hand in my hair, tracing along my collarbone, and then dipping to cup one of my breasts through my T-shirt, my nipples tightening so much they ached. His thumb brushed over one, and I couldn’t hold back the low moan that escaped. I shifted my legs restlessly, which only served to heighten the need knotted at the apex of my thighs.
“Now would be the time to tell me you don’t want this,” he finally said.
I almost laughed. I supposed I could lie blatantly and tell him I didn’t want him, but with need rampaging through me and warning bells blaring, he was all I wanted.
I shook my head, moaning again with another brush of his thumb across my nipple.
“Is that a ‘no,’ you don’t want to stop, or ‘no,’ you don’t want this?”
He was going to make me be direct.
“I want this.”
Satisfaction flared in his eyes. “Good. Because I want you,” he said flatly.
His words sent another surge of power through me.
He dipped his head swiftly, closing his mouth over my nipple right through my T-shirt, the wet heat of his mouth and the friction of the fabric making me cry out. Then, his mouth was on my other nipple, and I nearly melted at his feet. When he lifted his head, I glanced down to see the tight points pressing against the damp fabric.
Everything moved swiftly after that. His hands were everywhere—cupping my bottom, sliding up under my T-shirt, the subtle abrasion of his touch against my skin sending slivers of fire under the surface.
I needed more. I slid a hand under his shirt, savoring the heat of his skin. With a low groan, I arched into the hard, hot length of his cock.
“Harlow…”
Opening my eyes, I found his waiting. He reached for the glass of wine in my hand. With a slow spin, he set it on the windowsill behind us and then lifted me against him. My legs curled reflexively around his hips.