Her inner thighs quaked and she noted how extra sensitive she was as she stretched her legs, touching one foot on the polished faucet, turning it on with her toe, then turning it off. She did this several times before bending her knees, swirling her hands through the water to make waves, then closing her eyes, allowing her body to be soothed by the amazing feeling and her interesting thoughts. Every inch of her body was stuck in a whirlwind, had been since Penn kissed her. It had been a long time since she’d felt this sexy. This wanted. She’d seen the raw desire in his eyes and it made her feel things she hadn’t been prepared to handle.
His attraction excited her, tweaked every delicate part of her, but she wasn’t in any place to want these things or to ponder taking them to another level. She understood why it couldn’t happen—why it shouldn’t—but her swollen and tingling breasts, and her heavy center, didn’t quite agree with her logical evaluation of the situation. Of course not. She was, after all, dealing with a man who had more sex appeal than should be realistically possible.
Lord have mercy, some men just had a spark, that certain thing, about them that made a woman melt. Penn was the leader of that feeling. She’d been on fire since he dragged her across his threshold, pressed her up against the wall and leaned his naked body against hers. Her toes curled and she moaned under her breath.
“Oh my.” She laughed then scooted deeper into the tub until her hair was wet. She loved how relaxed she felt—even her naughty thoughts.
A shocking thought came to her. As she sat up water dripped off her nose, the ends of her hair, then sliding down her tingling breasts. If Seneca knew Harley was here, spending the night with Penn—under the same roof—the other woman would definitely never see him again. Harley should feel guilty, or at least sorry, but she didn’t. The way Penn talked, he and Seneca weren’t much of a solid item anyway. It wasn’t right that Harley felt a sense of unusual satisfaction. She had no right to him or to delegate who he shared his bed with. She shouldn’t even allow herself to believe there was a chance that Penn wouldn’t call Seneca back with an explanation, or asking her to warm his bed again the second Harley was gone.
Or would he?
Was Penn as flirtatious with every woman he met?
She wasn’t skilled in the realm of flirtation, but she knew when a man was testing the boundaries and there was no sense in denying that he had been toying with her and, in a way, so was she with him. And she found quite a bit of entertainment in it too.
Lowering against the tub, she sighed. She envied Seneca—whomever she was. Harley imagined a man like Penn would be sensual and giving in bed, not afraid to show a woman that she was wanted and special. The things a true romantic wished for. His large hands would move deftly and skilled across feminine skin and delicate curves. She had hoped she would find the right man who could handle her body. There was a false belief that all women were alike in bed. What revved one woman’s engine would work for all the others. Every female needed the same touch and kiss, the same spots to be stroked. She laughed. A vagina was a vagina was a vagina was far from the truth and made men lousy in bed. She wanted a lover who could read her moans and whimpers, her writhes and quivers, knowing when he’d found her trigger and wasn’t afraid to squeeze. One who understood when she needed a soft, passionate touch, a quickie over the kitchen counter or arm of the couch, and when she needed to be ridden hard and fast, all night long. Right now, she’d liked a little of all. Unfortunately, she’d never found the man who learned her body—or had she? Her gaze automatically landed on the open bathroom door.
Why deny that she wanted Penn? She wanted to feel his raw passion, ignite and relieve the curiosity burning in her bones, wondering restlessly about his abilities in bed, what his large, callused hands would feel like on her nipples, her inner thighs, and every spot in between.
Yeah, that’s what she wanted, but here she was, soaking in a tub of bubbles and fantasizing over his ridiculously beautiful eyes and hot, muscled body.
Irritation spun a thick web inside of her as she realized she was experiencing sexual tension—a heavy dose of sexual tension. She’d been needy before, but not like this, not with a mere stranger. That was dangerous, considering her thought process was a little warped right now after all the events of the evening, and she couldn’t be expected to decipher fact from plain ol’ deep shit.
Sinking into the water, she wanted to wash away everything but all the good thoughts…
Sitting up, she got a whiff of something other than Penn’s masculinity and soap. Sniffing the air, she gripped the cool sides of the tub, her heart beating faster. Something smelled like it was burning.
And then she remembered…
The lit candles…
She shot up out of the water, almost falling flat on her face as she grabbed the first towel she came to. She covered her front as she darted into the bedroom, coming to a frantic stop five feet from the smoke rolling up from the candles. And something else. Her stomach twisted. Hot flames had engulfed the hat that Penn had resting on a hook above the dresser. Oh shit! Hurrying, she grabbed the rim of the now black hat and blew on the flames until she became lightheaded. All it did was fan the fire. Madly looking around the room, she was unsure what to do until she remembered the tub. Racing back into the bathroom, she tossed the hat into the water. It sizzled loudly and a cloud of steam rolled up. The hat bounced across the bubbles, or what was left of it.
Marching back into the bedroom, she did a quick scan, finding Theodore staring at her from his hiding position under the chair. He had guilt written all over his furry face. “What did you do?”
He meowed loudly.
“I can’t believe this!” Harley stepped to the center of the room, surveying the damage and feeling dread rise in her throat. If Penn wasn’t exhausted with her before, he certainly would be now. There went any chance she’d ever have of his hands on her body.
She waved at the lingering smoke and jumped when a loud, screaming sounded from above her. The smoke detector. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Using the towel from her body, she fanned at the smoke hoping to detour it’s path away from the detector before Penn woke up and saw the mess she’d made.
Luck wasn’t on her side.
The door came crashing open and Penn, wild-eyed, barreled into the room. His thick hair was sticking up all over his head. She barely had a chance to take in his partially naked splendor before he came to a sudden stop as he hit the puddle of water that had dripped off her body. He continued to slide across the wet, polished planks. She lifted her hands just as he bumped into her, but she was no match for a six-foot-one, two-hundred-pound man. She bounced back, but her feet were still damp and she lost her balance, flinging the towel over her head as they toppled to the floor, him landing on top of her in a very awkward, but interesting position.
She moaned. Her romantic novel just turned into a comedy.
He blinked. “What the hell?”
“I-I…everything’s okay,” she said in a breathless voice. Their gazes met in a blaze that matched the one from the dresser. His warmth spread from his body and it trickled into her every pore. Naked and pressed together, she could feel every masculine line, every muscle’s dip on his fine body. Naked? Oh hell! She let out a delicate squeal and clamped her mouth shut. Something poked her trembling inner thighs and she realized he’d risen to the occasion. She was stunned speechless.
“I heard the alarm and I came running.”
He started to move, but she gave her head a frantic shake.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” A thick brow lifted.
“Don’t move.” If he did, he would see all of her. Although he’d probably already gotten a good look—and feel—she hoped there was still a sliver left to his imagination. “I’m a little naked here.”
One corner of his mouth raised and his eyes dazzled. He found this humorous, which drilled through her. “I sort of already knew that.”
“Can you reach the towel?” She poi
nted past his shoulder. There was no hiding the tremor in her voice that matched the feeling in her core.
“Oh, I see it.” He grabbed it, held up the large hand towel, chuckling. “This isn’t much of a covering.”
Holy mother of all that is good. “Now close your eyes as you move off me.”
“Harley…”
“This is not the time to argue with me.” She wished she could control the trembling within her.
“Okay.” He closed his eyes and pushed himself away from her, still laughing. She hoped he found this funny after he saw his floating, scorched hat.
A cool breeze washed over her and goosebumps scattered her moist flesh. Once his back was turned, she stood, gained her balance, and covered herself with the damp so-called towel. Nope, won’t work. Reaching for the blanket folded at the end of the bed, it wasn’t big, but at least it covered all the important stuff that craved a cowboy’s hand.
She opened her mouth to ask him to turn, but the breath released from her like a deflated balloon. He was only wearing a pair of blue, silk boxers, and that meant everything else was open to her perusal, and to her delight. Although she’d seen his front, an image she’d never forget, this was the first time she’d gotten an amazing view of this side. His shoulders were broad. His back was wide with ripples of muscle that dipped to his slender waist. A cross tattoo covered a portion of his tanned skin and she stepped forward to get a better look at the writing…
“Finished?”
She almost jumped out of her skin.
Clearing her throat, she swallowed hard. “Hang on one more second.” She needed time to gain her equilibrium. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and when she brought her eyes open, she caught a glance of Penn’s reflection in the mirror above the dresser. He was watching her and he didn’t seem a bit embarrassed. Her cheeks flamed and her fingers tightened on the material of the blanket. “Penn! You were looking,” she pushed through trembling lips.
He scrubbed his jaw. “Can I turn now?”
She tightened the blanket. “Fine! Might as well!”
He swiveled slowly, favoring his prosthetic leg. “I had my eyes closed. Promise.”
“Sure.” She had so many different emotions flowing through her she couldn’t pick one to concentrate on. “Add lying to the other long list of unadoring traits.” She sniffed.
“Okay. I did look, but you were already covered. I can see that whatever happened here involved candles?” He scrubbed his jaw.
This could all be stacked up to entertainment, but this was her life at the moment and if she laughed she might never stop. “I’m sorry. I had lit the candles and I was in the bath tub and Theodore, that misbehaving cat,” she found the subject now peeking out from under the bed, “must have knocked over your hat, which in turn fell on top of the candle and caught fire. That’s why there’s so much smoke.” She waved her hand in front of her face, glad that it was finally disappearing.
“Oh?”
“I got it out of the flames. I threw it in the tub.” Realizing what she’d just said, she nibbled her bottom lip. “I promise I’ll buy you a new one.”
His expression remained blank. “That hat was older than me.”
“Really? Oh no. It had emotional value, didn’t it? You’re going to want to kick me and the cat out.”
His gaze softened. “I’m only kidding. I got it as a present a few years back and I never wore it, that’s why it was hooked above the mirror. Although it seems your cat can be a pain in the ass, no harm done, at least not to you. Except, your bath was interrupted.” He strolled his gaze down her body, leaving tingles in his visual wake.
“You’re a very understanding man.”
“You mean when I’m not lying or doing any of the other bad traits on your list, which maybe one day you could fill me in on what those are.” He was still grinning.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been so kind.” His sweet, funny side sent her balance on its side. What she saw in his face wasn’t just sweetness, but desire. It probably didn’t help that they’d seen each other naked more than clothed since they’d met.
“Could be the scenery.” There was an obvious hitch to his voice.
What could she say to that? She no longer felt mortified or embarrassed, but something much stronger took shape, like a seedling sprouting from dirt. Harley was more aware than ever that she had a hard time keeping logic in place when it came to Penn. “Since we’re both mostly naked here, maybe it’s best we say goodnight.” It wasn’t what she wanted, but the alternative was that she invited him to sleep with her. As much as she wanted him, she needed to slow things down. He was the ultimate playboy and she was the geek bookworm. Those types never mixed. He probably wanted cool, and she wasn’t. He probably liked waif-thin, model-types skilled between the sheets, not fuller figured, ‘never-even-went-skinny-dipping’ women.
He hesitated, then finally nodded, taking a step back, but he didn’t move into the hall. “I’ll go to bed now.” His jaw tightened. Was he fighting the inner turmoil too?
“Yes, that would be best.” For what? Our brains? Her body was screaming for the cowboy to come back.
He was in the hallway now.
She gulped air, dizzy and quaking. Her world was shaking under her feet.
She was in trouble—deep.
“You’re a lovely woman, Harley.” His words were said so low that she wondered if she’d imagined them.
No man had ever looked at her with such longing. The power in his stare made her feel beautiful, wanted…needed. Neither made a move, just stood there as seconds floated by with each passing heartbeat.
Most women would expect a man to kiss her now. He seemed to grapple with the decision on what he should do.
Could she resist him if he did come to her? When it came to Penn there was a weakness in her reserve, a desire to throw caution to the wind and allow nature to take its course. Would she hate herself if she gave in to him? Feel foolish? Used? Who was she kidding by even acknowledging such silly ideas? There would be no regret if she stepped into this with eyes wide open. She was an adult. She’d slept with men before, but none were quite as lethal as the cowboy who’d taken her reasoning for a ride the second she met him. That proved just how different he was.
Seconds felt like hours as she contended with all the emotions flying through her, the sleeping emotions sparking alive. She was a smart woman who never did anything on impulse. Her relationship with Marshall couldn’t be held against her, but instead be proof that she was intelligent enough to get out when it was going nowhere. She wasn’t looking for anything long-term, just someone to hold her and make her feel like a seductive woman.
But Penn didn’t step forward, instead he took another footstep back. Several expressions flickered across his face before settling on one she couldn’t quite read. “I better get back to my room before I do something stupid. Something really stupid.”
A sharp, yet soft as a feather, sensation drilled through her chest making her heart speed up. Was he going to deny her? Deny himself? She was witness to the wild, seductive light in his eyes. The ticking of his tight jaw. The crinkles appearing around his mouth.
Could it be that he waited, and wanted, for her to ask him to stay? Plead for his warm, pleasurable kisses. Beg him to remain and take her, hard and fast, soft and easy. All night long.
Visions of them making love played like a movie through her mushed brain. It shouldn’t be so easy to produce such images when she’d never experienced the pleasure, but it seemed real. Her body was prisoner to the gratifying feelings cascading through her veins.
So when he was gone it was like a light went out on the inside, a curtain was drawn. She stood there for the longest time, disappointed in the fact that she was now alone with all the heightened emotions and desires. She knew it was best, but couldn’t figure out why. She was a grown woman, Penn a grown man. Adults.
*****
Penn laughed. What more could he do?
He had crossed
so many lines and boundaries today that he’d lost count. For a man who was trying to behave, he’d certainly been tested on some of the most provocative levels. Seeing Harley naked, all her lush curves and beautiful, delicate bends settled into his mind like an adventure waiting for him to discover.
His wound-up body was proof that he’d crossed the limits without any reward, and there was no rest for the weary.
What would be the reward exactly? Oh, he couldn’t go there. It was too much to handle.
Upstairs in the guest bedroom, he climbed into the small bed, stretched his leg over the side, punched the pillow a few times and drove his head into the firmness. Sleep eluded him. Images of Harley with her stunning, amazing smile came to mind along with her flawlessly shaped lips. Her soft, warm eyes and the feeling of fulfilment he got when she was around. He’d never had a woman who erupted these feelings in him. Although he’d enjoyed spending time with women, it had been on a superficial level. With Harley, he wanted to explore each layer, take his time, show her how lovely she was.
He had to stop this train of thought before intentions got out of control. He had to put things into perspective. His thoughts weren’t clear. How could he keep Harley safe when he couldn’t stop imagining her naked?
This was a war between his need and logic, and he was afraid the latter was losing the battle.
He sat up and dropped his foot to the floor. He tore a hand through his hair and checked his phone. Four A.M. What was the use in trying? He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight especially when his alarm was set for five. He pushed a number on speed dial and brought the phone to his ear just as his brother answered.
“This better be damn good, bro,” Hugh mumbled.
“I thought I’d take a gamble that you were already up.”
“I am now.”
“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Is it needed?”
Penn chuckled. “I think so.”
There was a long hesitation and then the phone went dead.
Penn's Fortune (Saddles & Second Chances Book 2) Page 7