Impulsion

by Jamie Magee

He pulled her hips against his, reached his arms around her, and cranked the four-wheeler to life. One arm fell around her, clasping her waist as the other steered them away. She let out a squealing laugh and clung to him with her arms and legs, burrowing her face in his neck, embracing him as her lips moved across his skin.

  When he stopped, he reached both his hands for her face, capturing her lips, giving more power to his kiss, making it even deeper as he leaned forward. Harley was arched back, her legs around him, feeling the heat of his body hover over her as his hands glided across her body far slower than the rush of the kiss, the different rhythms; it was head spinning. Her hand reached up, landed on the center of his chest, feeling his heart roaring under her touch.

  There was so much more power in every touch of his, there was no hesitation, no question—it was a claiming.

  All at once, he picked her up again, holding her kiss.

  Steps later, he sat her down. He slowed the kiss, but it was Harley that broke away, glanced around as she heard the click of a light switch.

  Wyatt’s head was humming. He had managed to say what he meant to say, and that kiss—heaven, a wash of relief bringing him back to life. He felt her pull him down, like she had in the past. He knew where they would end up. It took all he had, but he walked her to that four-wheeler. They didn’t have to lie on this creek bed and listen for distant sounds, cling to every second of life like it would be the last, not anymore. That’s what he was trying to tell her with his words, what he was trying to show her with his actions as he took her home.

  It wasn’t until he walked past his porch, through his front door that he had the thought that she was a taken woman, that she never said this hell was over. It halted him. He wanted to hear her say she was his now, that she had come back, that this was more than one random night to her.

  Looking at her now, those eyes glancing around the room as her hands stayed on him, he decided it didn’t matter if he heard her say that; he already swore to her that he was going to make her his…for all he knew, he only had tonight to love her, and if that were the case, he was going to love her every way a woman could be loved.

  “This is yours?” she breathed, glancing around. This home was breathtaking, the kind of home that had design character, built to a person, not decorated to do so.

  The floor plan was wide open, the ceilings were high. Gloss wood floors were in every room she could see, calm colors along the walls, high white molding giving depth.

  The living room had deep auburn furniture, sitting at an angle before a stone fireplace. There was a soft chair facing the window, an ottoman just beneath it.

  That room lead to another. To her left there was a dining room, only a small wall shielded the kitchen behind it. Before her, in the center of the bottom floor was a wide staircase, framed with white wood.

  “Mine.”

  Her eyes met his. ”You built it here?”

  He nodded to the chair by the window. “It had a good view.”

  She reached for his face, let her thumb rush across his bottom lip. She was home. Not a doubt in her mind.

  “The ultimate stolen moment,” she said with a glance to the closed door. They had never been behind a closed door, not one like this. Not when it didn’t matter if anyone found you.

  “We’re not stealing a moment, Harley…we’re taking this night and—” Before he could say, “every night past it,” she had reached up and claimed his lips once more. She pulled away just as his hands started to move around her.

  “Where’s the bedroom?”

  A gasping smile came to him, and he nodded to the stairs. Within the next beat of his heart, she was gone from his arms, running up the stairs, looking back to make sure he was following her.

  On his path to her, he lost his shoes, lost his shirt. He was reaching for the clasp on his belt when he stepped into his room.

  The wall to the right was more windows than wall, and right then the moonlight was cascading over the king size bed that balanced the room. She was kneeling in the center of his bed. She had lost that dress; all she had on was a white bra that was a mix of cotton and lace, nearly hidden by her long strands of windblown hair, which matched the thin silk cloth hiding the warmth of her.

  In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined her to be this bold, this inviting, so sure, no trace of timidity. It was stirring him in the most erotic way, but at the same time in the back of his mind he wondered who had taught her that. It burned him to know that anyone had ever touched her, but his own guilt pushed down that thought, and his outright need to have her right then killed all those wandering dark thoughts.

  Harley had never felt so free, so alive. Even when she was with Wyatt before, in the heaven of this farm, she felt the chains, the chance of an end, the near promise that there was some separation before them. Now she didn’t feel any of that. She was high on life, intoxicated by the warm rush that was consuming her body.

  It seemed someone somewhere had always had control of her for as long as she had breathed. Wyatt made her feel safe, made her feel like she could be herself. He unlocked something inside and made her feel powerful, beautiful, seductive.

  She held her breath as his heated stare moved across her body; she had never seen his eyes that hungry before, never seen anyone’s eyes that hungry.

  When he began to move closer, she felt her heart pick up a rapid beat. She edged closer to the edge of the bed on her knees as he came to her, her breath slid down his chest, she leaned forward, landing a sweet kiss just beneath his collar bone.

  As if she were the most fragile thing in existence, his hands slid around her middle, letting his hand drift and only feather a touch. She felt his lips against her forehead, felt the short breaths against her flesh. She looked up at him, finding his eyes, seeing how deep they were searching hers; so much emotion, so much pull.

  Their lips met; a slow, sweet kiss melded them together.

  Harley’s hands moved down his bare chest, tracing every rigid edge. Her hands fumbled with his belt, the button. Just as she eased him free, his hand halted on her back and he moved forward, laying her down.

  Harley’s long hair landed in a halo around her. She was his first, his first everything, but back then he saw with his hands, his lips, never his eyes. He wanted to see her with everything.

  He reached for her shoulder, his fingertips glided the strap down. Those same fingertips eased across her chest, tracing the lines of her bra, only to land on the other side to do the same. His eyes met hers as his hand slid around her back, and she smiled as she felt him fumble with the clasp. That smile faded, and her eyes fluttered closed as his hand glided around her, moved across her chest. She not only felt his touch, but his eyes; she felt his breaths kiss her flesh, warm chills spread across her skin as she arched into his touch.

  That sensual dance from one side of her body to the other was only stopped when his hand would move lower with every other sway, only to leave. Then his hand began to slide across her stomach, moving as slow as possible, almost hesitating.

  Feeling that pause, her eyes opened to meet his for a long second, then she watched them fall to her body, felt him easing away under the lace and cotton around her waist.

  Harley had always thought that Wyatt’s touch felt like velvet; smooth, warm, inviting. But she had never known how erotic his gaze was, watching him watch her, seeing that intensity, a balanced control that she always knew was only barely being held back.

  When his hand slipped within the heat of her, a breath escaped her, those ice blue eyes glided across her body, finally meeting her stare.

  She moved against him, let her eyes close when the sensation demanded a soft moan; that was the instant she felt his hot kiss across her chest, when she felt his body edge closer to hers. Her hands moved across his face, caressing him as his lips lavished her flesh before sliding down his shoulders, exploring everything she could reach.

  That reach became more and more shallow, his lips were easing down h
er body. She had felt herself building, reaching for the cliff that she had not felt since the last time she was with him, so feeling his fingers vanish from her flesh almost hurt, but that erotic pain was never felt, there wasn’t a chance; his lips on her flesh not only eased that pain but seemed to intensify that pain all at once.

  That sharp edge, that cliff that she had craved to feel again erupted all at once. She could feel waves of energy bursting off her, heard the sound come from her throat. Her body was numb as he pulled her hips even closer, as his kiss gained power. Her skin began to glisten; she was hot and cold all at once, felt everything, sensed everything, and only wanted more, nearly demanded more.

  Slowly, he turned her. She felt his lips meet the base of her back, his fingers sliding within once more. The rhythm of his slow, wet kisses eased up her back. When they reached her neck, she leaned back, pressing her back to his front. For an instant, his hand moved across her body as he dared to rock with her.

  That climb, that build, it was burning its way back through Harley, unleashing her. She turned in his arms, claimed his lips while her hands moved down his chest, only to reach for the rim of his jeans and push down. As she took him in her hands, she broke her kiss, just so her gaze could fall to her touch.

  Hearing his fast breaths, watching his stomach tense was empowering to Harley. She moved her body with her touch. At first he gave her that control, almost relaxed into it, but then he reached for her hand, rolled her to her back, gently pinning that arm above her head.

  Harley caught his stare once more, moved her legs around him. As her hand fluttered down his side, he let go of the arm he had pinned but pulled it between them. Together, holding each other’s stare, they moved their bodies into one.

  Harley’s breath hitched. It didn’t hurt, but she could feel her body taking him in, felt how it had to find a way to adjust.

  The gaze that Wyatt was raining down her seemed to change, almost as if a hint of wonder had surfaced.

  Her hands moved to his face, pulled him into a kiss. That was when he moved, moved deep, when whatever kiss she wanted to give him turned into a gasping breath. After that instant, the rhythm filled with unbridled passion took over, a fight for control that they would only surrender to for a moment or two.

  When she felt his body tense, felt him slow down as a breath burst from his lips, a gasping smile came to her face. His lips caught hers once more, but he didn’t stop his rock; he pressed a little harder, moved to the side, moved his lips to her neck as his hand found her chest. That was the moment she found the cliff once more, when she felt her body flex around his, waves of energy pulsing their bodies together. His arms grew weak, and he fell gently to her side, pulling her hips with his, not willing to let them part until he had no other choice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Somewhere in the numbing aftershock of that erotic rush, Wyatt had drifted to sleep, still clinging to Harley. It was like his body relaxed for the first time in years; he felt a dazing calm.

  The sound of the shower woke him. At first he thought it was all a dream, like all the ones he had wished to come true before.

  He found Harley in the master bath, standing in the center of the oval tub. At first he just watched. Her eyes were closed as her fingertips lathered that long hair that at times he would swear was pure silk. She had the body of an athlete, long, lean muscles, not a flaw that he could or would acknowledge. So much youth, strength, power.

  He couldn’t help it; he moved inside that shower, let his hands glide through the soap that was sliding down her body, smiled when he heard her sigh, when he could see her body start to respond to his touch. He was sure he could stare at her for the rest of his life and always find something new to fascinate him.

  Seeing the hunger in her eyes as she turned to face him caught him off guard at first. Somehow between before and now, this girl had learned to be an erotic lover. He wanted to tell himself it was just them, that if she had never left this farm this was the sensation he and Harley could have found. He could even swear to himself that just before, just as they became one, there was next to no chance there had been anyone that held her.

  Once again, those thoughts faded as her lips moved down his chest, his stomach, as her lips, that kiss, made him forget his own name for a moment. He had pulled her back to his lips, wrapped her legs around him, and sank into her, riding that wave of passion together.

  Out of breath, they had glided to the floor of the tub. Wyatt reached to turn the shower off and stopped the drain. She was now lying just before him. Steam was still coming off the water, and he was gliding the water over her chest, fascinated with each and every rivulet that traced down her body.

  Harley never wanted to leave that house, that bathroom, the cage of his arms. A sudden spark of an old fear came to her, one that made her recognize they would have to part. That urged her to plan their next escape, caused her to look up at him. “You have to work today?”

  It was past one in the morning when she had gotten into the shower. So much had happened since then; for all she knew, it was nearly dawn, he’d have to leave, and she’d have to go a day before she saw him again.

  A laugh came from deep in his chest. “I’m praying for rain. I think the weatherman is on my side,” he said as his fingertips traced her jaw.

  “No fire department?”

  “Most cases, that’s twenty-four on, forty-eight off.”

  She eased to the side just so she could look back at him but still feel his arms and legs around her. “I can remember that night you said you wanted to be a fireman, the way Easton was looking at that fire, Memphis, how Truman had that awe in his eyes.”

  A heart-stopping grin spread across Wyatt’s face. “Truman still looks like that if the fire is big enough. He hasn’t been on long, still learning.”

  “None of it scares you?”

  His glance moved to trace the burn on her cheek, glance to the mark on hair line that was healing rapidly, then back to her eyes. “Normally, it’s a rush. Someone needs help, and I want to help them.”

  “Easton has really been with you this whole time?”

  He didn’t answer at first; he was captivated by the water he was rushing over her once more. “Always side by side. When we came back, Memphis was not only already on the fire department but kicking ass and taking names. They just made him a lieutenant. Easton and I didn’t even discuss it; it just seemed to always be the plan. We all found our way to the same house.”

  “You see them everyday?”

  “Most. Sometimes things move around a bit.”

  “Fireman, and Ava’s going to be a nurse. She said Trey was trying to be a vet.”

  “Trying is a good word. The boy needs to figure out that you have to go to class to get a degree. If he doesn’t turn it around, he’s going to find himself in that apartment with Truman.”

  “He’ll figure it out. Sometimes you just need a break from whatever plan you have.”

  Wyatt’s smile fell a little, but Harley never saw it; she was tracing his hand with hers.

  He had to wonder if he was her break, if she was going to go back to him. He wanted to ask, it was killing him not to, but the threat of killing the bliss of this night caused him to hedge his words.

  “Harley, the business law student.”

  She pursed her lips. “A degree I don’t want to use or care to finish…I even tried to major in lit instead.” She raised her chin a bit. “I was told I needed depth, something that said I could do more than read.”

  “What did you want to do? What do you want to do?”

  She gazed into thin air. “I just want to be…just ‘be.’ I want to ride my horse, take in the senses of the Earth, feel the shifts of the seasons brush across the wind. I don’t want to fit in any world. I want a world of my own…I even taught for a bit at school, watched the scared new riders find their seat…that was the only time I felt grounded at school, or when I would go to whatever barn Danny Boy was at.”


  His father was right: everything she wanted, he could give her; he knew that. She just had to be brave enough to take it, to take it and not fear leaving her life behind. Even if there wasn’t this Collin guy, the guy that had been with her from the second they parted, he knew Harley would not leave that world behind easily.

  She loved her father. They had an odd bond, one where he always seemed to be striving to make her more independent, stronger, and all she wanted was to make him proud. Harley never saw it that way, at least not the way Wyatt was sure her father wanted her to see it; instead, Harley did what she could to make him proud, to honor his legacy.

  Wyatt could still remember the first conversations he had with the man. Wyatt had just dismounted a horse called Chopper.

  “Name seems fitting,” he’d said to Wyatt. “You held on like you know a thing or two about holding on to power. You got a bike, son?”

  “Not yet,” Wyatt had said. At the time, Harley had only been at his farm for all of three weeks. He was already in love with her, but they had barely spoken more than a few words. Harley had kept to herself; he’d still managed to make her laugh a time or two, though.

  Garrison Tatum looked Wyatt right in the eye as if he heard the unspoken truth in Wyatt’s young fifteen-year-old voice, heard Wyatt say he was going to make Harley his.

  Garrison raised his chin a bit. “I was too busy building an empire to have a mid-life crisis, get a Harley of my own…so when my greatest accomplishment took her first breath, I knew the perfect name for her.” He chuckled. “Claire dared to fight me on that name.” He let out a deep breath as his stare moved over the boy Wyatt was. “I found it fitting. Raw power that only a few can understand is within my daughter. I’ve raised my daughter to understand reverence, passion. To never ask for what belongs to her.” Garrison glanced around the farm he was standing on, then back to Wyatt. “I expect you to make sure that no matter what, she feels safe here. That she is taught to not fear a challenge, yet not rush into one without thought. I expect you to be the man I see in your eyes.”