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Hardy

Page 20

by Theresa Beachman


  He leaned in closer and scraped his teeth against her neck. She squirmed and broke away, breathless. Her fingers pushed through the untamed scruff on his cheek. “This is getting too much,” she whispered.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” She reached behind her back to the counter and pulled out a white cloth. She unfolded the fabric to reveal a wicked looking straight razor. “Trust me?”

  Hardy scratched the bristly beard on his neck. With all the busyness of the last few days, there hadn’t been time to get properly cleaned up. “Do you know what you’re doing with that?”

  She fixed him a mischievous grin. “I’m a nurse. I’m good with blades.”

  He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, turned it over and kissed the skin on the underside of her wrist where the flutter of her pulse was tangible against the tip of his tongue. “I trust you.”

  She turned again and this time produced a small dish containing a shaving brush and soap. Hardy arched an eyebrow. “You’re fully prepared?”

  “Oh. Yes, sir.” She circled the brush against the wet soap, her legs still hooked around the small of his back, the heat of her body snug against his groin. He shifted, his increasing arousal fighting against the constriction of his clothes.

  Georgina paused, reached between his legs and cupped him. “Poor baby, are you uncomfortable?” she murmured in his ear. Her breath teased his skin, forcing more blood to rush to his cock.

  She pulled back, her blue eyes never leaving his. “Maybe you should sit down,” she said, her voice a low command.

  Heat flared low in his belly as she released him and slid off the counter. She walked him backwards, her hand pressed to his chest. His mouth went dry as she pushed him with one forceful hand to sit on the bed.

  Smirking, she nudged his knees together and straddled his legs to get closer. “Perfect.”

  He smiled at her, running his hands over her smooth thighs. “I like it when you get all bossy.”

  She laughed and reached for the hem of his t-shirt and ripped it over his head in a quick tug, her breasts bumping against his cheeks. “I’m just getting started.” Her voice was breathy. “Comfortable?”

  “Mmm.” He kissed the swell of her breast through cotton.

  She licked her lips and smiled. “Some things don’t change Mr. Not-talk-a-lot.”

  “Is that a problem?” he muttered in a whisper, as she bent and began to soap the hairs on his jaw. She worked the brush in relaxing circles against his cheek, then down his neck, soothing the tension across his shoulders. An involuntary groan escaped him and he tipped his head back to give her easier access to his throat.

  “No. It’s part of who you are. It’s part of what I—” Even in the crappy light of the room, the pink flare of her cheeks drew his eye.

  “Part of what?”

  “Part of what I liked. When we got involved.”

  That sensation of lightness filled him again. He allowed it to settle in him. He arched an eyebrow. “Is that what we are? Involved?”

  She never wavered. “Could call it that.”

  He grinned. The depth of his feelings for her ran beyond his vocabulary. Was that love? He didn’t know and to be honest he didn’t give a fuck. It didn’t need a name. He felt it deep in his gut and within the depths of his heart. Involved sounded like a start. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  Georgina laid the brush back in the dish and picked up the straight razor. She licked her top lip. “Ready?”

  46

  Georgina took the straight razor and using her free hand to steady his head, she stroked the blade across his cheek. It made a satisfying swishing sound and she removed a clean sweep of soap and hair. She wiped the blade on a towel. “Looking good.”

  She pressed a kiss to the clean skin, catching soap on her nose. When she pulled back, Hardy’s intense gaze burned right through her. She shifted against him, enjoying the rough rasp of his pants against her skin. With a reverent stroke, he removed the soap from her nose with his thumb.

  He’d come for her, fought his way across a devastated world to find her. Despite being uncommunicative at times, Hardy made her feel like the most precious thing in the universe. Feeling cared for and cherished? She wasn’t sure if she’d ever grow tired of it. Or of him.

  She would find Janie. And Hardy would come with her. But while she healed, regained her strength? She was going to enjoy every inch of this gorgeous man.

  She tilted her head so she could shave under his chin. His breath was warm against the back of her hand as she slid the blade against bristle, the soft rasp of steel against masculine hair, arrowing desire right between her legs.

  Firm hands gripped her backside, his fingers digging into her flesh in a protective grip that made the lace of her underwear chafe against her sex. She rocked her hips as she tipped his head to work on his other cheek. He groaned and his fingers dug harder into the muscles of her ass.

  Georgina paused and closed her eyes, dropping her forehead to bump his, drawing in the scent of him. At last, she released a pent up breath and opening her eyes again, cleaned the blade against a small towel.

  “Who’d have thought, there’s a man under all the lion mane.” She cracked a grin and slid the blade to his neck, stroking down toward his collarbone, being careful to give his shoulder a wide berth.

  His golden eyes held hers. The man that she’d fallen in love with, despite the best attempts of the world to separate them.

  There were brutal memories from the last few days that she’d allow to slide and become cloudy with time but others she would never forget. Hardy, walking toward her, his body gilded by firelight. The primal lust in his face when he found her washing in the kitchen.

  She took another swipe down the length of his throat. His Adams apple bobbed as she flexed her thighs to hold herself steady. A soft growl rumbled deep in his broad chest, rising like the hard masculine heat growing between her thighs. His big body wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  His shifted his hands, so he could stroke along the front line of her underwear. He was playing her. His thumb, firmly pressing against the nub of her clit. Her attention flickered and the blade slipped.

  He flinched. “Hey.”

  “Stop spoiling my concentration,” she admonished and thumbed the bead of blood away. “Just a nick. You’ll live.”

  She wiped white foam from the razor and he took advantage of the brief pause. She was already damp and as his fingers dipped beneath the lace, his low exhalation filled the air between them.

  The brush stalled in the soapy dish as she adjusted to the position of the hot male warrior between her legs. My. Literally hot. Hardy remained a goddamn radiator.

  “You okay?” he asked, his touch grazing her ribs.

  “Mmm.” She bit her lip, garnering her focus to finish the job.

  Wild heat poured though her blood, muting the dull ache in her ribs. “Last tricky bit,” she muttered. She slid a finger under his chin and tilted his head up to shave his upper lip.

  His hands tightened on her hips but he kept his head lifted, obedient, as she cleaned the last hairs away.

  “There.” She wrapped the blade back in the cloth before picking up the towel and patting his cheeks. When she’d cleaned off the last suds, she leaned back to admire her handiwork. He looked good clean-shaven. She loved his wild unkempt beard but now she could appreciate the high rise of his cheekbones. They matched his cat-like grace. She smiled. “You’ll do.”

  “Despite everything.” She waved a hand at the bleak room. “Even this.” She kissed his strapped shoulder. None of it mattered when she had him. Emotion clogged her throat. “You came for me.” She met his gaze. “No one’s ever put themselves on the line for me before. Ever.”

  Hardy grinned and shrugged, his fingers lacing into the hair at the back of her neck. He pulled her close into a slow kiss, locking her in his hot lap.

  His teeth grazed the sensitive skin on her throat. “I look after the people I care about
.”

  Her heart raced, her fingertips tingling at his admission. The man who’d captured her heart. She opened her mouth to reply but he silenced her with another kiss. “Enough talking,” he rumbled in her ear, then pushed her gently onto the bed.

  Georgina sank into the blanket, the heat of his body above her unwinding taut kinks of exhaustion.

  He nipped her ear and slid his hand across her belly. “Talking is overrated.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Georgina murmured, arching under him and giving herself up to the man she loved.

  * * *

  I really hope you enjoyed Hardy and Georgina’s story.

  If you enjoyed the book and would like the series to continue please consider leaving a short review. Reviews stoke my fires of creativity! Thanks!

  Also by Theresa Beachman

  EARTH RESISTANCE SERIES

  Garrick : Earth Resistance Book 1

  Sawyer : Earth Resistance Book 2

  Darr : Earth Resistance Book 3

  Earth Resistance Omnibus Books 1-3

  OCEAN WOLVES SERIES

  Ocean Wolves

  Author ramblings…

  If you liked Hardy, you might also like some of my other books. You can join my mailing list by dropping by my website,

  theresabeachman.com

  or if you have any comments, shoot me a note at

  theresa@theresabeachman.com

  I am always delighted to hear from people who’ve read my work.

  I’m already busy researching some cool locations for my next book and I hope you will join me in that adventure soon!

  About the Author

  I live in the south-west of England with my family and a crazy cat.

  I watch far too many sci-fi B movies, mainly ones with dodgy special effects and sharks. I’m still recovering from the fact that Ripley never got it on with Hicks.

  I write the books I love to read, with smart female leads, a hot hero and explosions. You may have gathered I like men in cargo trousers.

  Drop by and say hi!

  www.theresabeachman.com

  theresa@theresabeachman.com

 

 

 


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