by Kate Kisset
“Fine.” Georgia held him in her stare and they both held back a laugh. “Shush,” she whispered, holding her index finger against his lips, and he kissed it.
“Did the blouse fit okay?” Belle asked from a few feet away.
Georgia brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Without taking her eyes off him, she sucked in a long breath and answered calmly. “Uh-huh, perfectly.” Grinning at Harlan, she licked her lips. “I love the way,” she pointed at him and mouthed the word you, “it feels.”
Not able to keep his hands off her, he held her again and sucked on her shoulder.
“The fabric is a modal, super-soft, made of beech trees and doesn’t wrinkle,” Belle explained, still, unfortunately, not going anywhere. “Want me to bring another pair of boots or a blouse for you to try?”
“No.” Georgia barely got the word out. “No thank you. I’m good with what I have.” She nuzzled against his cheek and kissed her way up to his earlobe, driving him insane.
“Want me to take the hat and blouse and ring it up for you?”
Harlan traced his tongue down from her shoulder to her left breast, and sucked, teasing her nipple with his teeth, making Georgia gasp as she rocked against him.
“No, no, no. Not right now. I’m not decent.” He looked up to see her laugh.
“Okay, meet you out in front.”
“Thank you, Belle,” Georgia said, while gripping his hair, forcing him back up to his feet.
Harlan scooped her into his arms, lifting her off the floor. “I am not going to stop kissing you.”
“Don’t,” she answered breathlessly as he eased her down past the swollen cock pressed painfully against his jeans.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Georgia nodded, straightening her bra, mesmerizing him with the sight of her still in that hat, with boots on and nipples hard as rocks.
“You are perfection,” he stated, meaning every word, forcing himself to peel his gaze away. “Leave the boots on. Here,” he pointed to the blouse. “Hand me that. I’m going to get them for you.”
She passed it to him saying, “You don’t have to buy anything for me.” Her voice edged with laughter, “I didn’t even have the chance to try the blouse on.” She blushed. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Well if doesn’t look good on you, it’s the damn blouse’s fault.”
She stayed quiet, as if she was trying to decipher what he was saying, and it made him hate the men in her past. Georgia should know without a doubt how perfect she was.
Harlan held up the blouse. “It’s a keeper, just like you,” he said giving her another kiss. “And this,” he removed the hat from her head. “This is definitely coming with us. Meet you out in front.”
Belle gave no indication she knew he was in the dressing room with Georgia and simply rang him up, giving him a cheerful wave as he left.
Once outside in the sultry air, Harlan leaned against the building and waited for the smartest, sexiest creature he’d ever met to join him. It didn’t take long for Georgia to rush out of the shop, out of breath, and tuck her hand in his. “Miss me?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to drive without keeping my hands off you.”
He possessively clasped his hand around hers. Ignoring waves and gawks from passersby, who should mind their own damn business, Harlan quickly led Georgia to his truck.
Within ten minutes they were back on the two-lane bumpy road heading to his ranch.
Chapter Fourteen
MAYBE IT WAS THE HAT. Well, the hat and the discovery that Harlan thought her writing was fresh, perceptive, and funny as hell. Something about that compliment tore down Georgia’s last wall of resistance. He was seeing her for who she really was.
Plus, Harlan made her feel like a ten. Georgia knew she wasn’t necessarily bad-looking, but in her line of business, mingling with celebrities and supermodels, she rarely warranted a second look.
All the sexy deliciousness Harlan poured over her, his descriptions, him saying what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it, were enough to make her feel like she’d have an orgasm if he squeezed her thigh even one more time. And if they had to go through all that pushing and pulling and bickering to get to where they were at this very second, so be it.
“This is torture,” Harlan stated to no one in particular, taking a left on the road to his house.
“It’s just a matter of time,” she teased, wanting to reach over the console to tuck her nose under his plaid shirt, smell his skin and kiss his neck, but the seat belt held her back.
“Don’t you know it,” Harlan replied while giving her knee a squeeze, his voice low and rough.
Georgia held her breath, focusing on every move his powerful hand made as it traveled excruciatingly slowly up her thigh and stopped an inch away from what was dying for his touch.
There wasn’t anything shy about Harlan. Maybe his confidence was somehow rubbing off on her? She’d sworn off liaisons with celebrities, and yet here she was, in Harlan Beckett’s passenger seat, wanting him so badly she was ready to jump out of her skin. She would just have to pony up and deal with the consequences later.
She eyed his profile, confirming, without a doubt, that she would never be with a man like Harlan again, because they just didn’t make ’em like him.
I’ll take the risk. I will not let life pass me by, not this time.
Sighing, she concentrated on the sensation of his strong hand sliding up her leg, getting more excited second by second, inch by inch, as it traveled higher, closer.
“Harlan,” she purred, reaching over the console again, trying to kiss him. “I’m taking this thing off.” Harlan glanced over grinning, while she fidgeted with the seat belt until finally breaking free. “Much better.” Georgia lifted herself off the seat, over the console, and played with his thick hair while kissing his neck.
“God, you drive me crazy, baby.” He took her hand in his and tenderly kissed the back of it. “I think I even liked you a little when you were annoying me.” He laughed, finally reaching the ranch’s driveway, where he slid and parked in front of the stables. The second the vehicle stopped Harlan shifted, taking her face in his hands like he never wanted her to move.
He sucked her bottom lip, then languorously moved to her top lip, making the world around her spin.
“I love how this story’s going.” He groaned, brushing his cheek against hers. “I can’t take this agony anymore.” He broke from the kiss. “Hang on. Let me help you out,” he said, jumping out of the truck.
Heart pounding out of her chest, pulse racing, firing pings up and down her spine, Georgia couldn’t wait to feel his lips on her again, and opened the passenger door just as Harlan arrived.
She wrapped her arms around him, clinging as he pulled her out of the vehicle. Pressing herself against him, she kissed him with everything she’d been holding back for the past forty minutes.
“Christ, Peach. I’m not going to make it to the house. I need you now.”
Harlan lifted her into his strong arms in one swoop, and took long, quick strides to the barn while she nuzzled into his neck, the anticipation killing her.
“I love the way you feel in my arms,” he said raggedly, rushing her into the stables.
Once inside, he made a left to the small tack area. She swung her head around as he opened the door to what she thought was an office. “We keep some extra supplies in here.” Harlan kissed the top of her head in the dimly lit room and lowered her onto a futon next to a stack of blankets. The only place Georgia had ever had sex was in a boring bedroom, and it wasn’t with anyone like Harlan.
“God, I want you,” she whispered, and in a flash his mouth was there and his lips were loving hers again, while nestling her against him as they settled on the blankets.
“What took us so long?” he groaned, kissing down her neck to the hollow of her throat, where he licked. “You’ve been waiting for someone like me for a long time, haven’t you, Georgia?” he
murmured against her wet skin, coming back up to her lips and running his strong hand down over her breast and belly until he rubbed between her legs, heating her to the point of almost exploding.
“I...I’m not exactly a virgin, but this is new,” she confessed,
“It is. You’ve never been with anyone who knew what they were doing,” Harlan rasped, holding the back of her head, his granite pecs pressed against her, his nubby shirt raking over her, teasing her hard-as-rock nipples. “So sexy,” he husked, tipping her back in his arms, parting her lips with his tongue, kissing her hard and deep. Tongues dancing, eyelids heavy, their shared heat, the kisses, Harlan’s deft, stroking hands, all turned her into a moaning, whimpering puddle begging for more. More.
Kiss by kiss, bodies as one, their breaths becoming faster, her rhythm matched his. And ohhh, his smell. Mulberries and mahogany guitars...
Breaking for a breath, Georgia buried her nose in his shoulder, inhaling him and losing herself. Harlan held onto her, bringing her with him as he rolled onto his back.
“Hmm,” she cooed, kissing the corner of his mouth, loving the feel of his heart beating wildly through her thin T-shirt. She slid her hand over his hard chest, and down, lifting his shirt so she could feel his skin, and every muscle she’d been dreaming of. “You.” She gave him a wicked smile, looking into his eyes, rocking against him, relishing the friction and how big and hard he was for her. She found his belt.
“You are so beautiful.” Harlan caressed her back, and ran his hand up her spine, stroking her skin all the way up until he cupped the nape of her neck while she unfastened his buckle. “Is that what you want?” he whispered between ragged breaths. “Say it, Georgia.”
A sound thudded from the other side of the stables, followed by a clop, clop, clop, and then another.
Georgia froze, listening again. Clop, clop, clop, clop, clop. Her heart fell and she gasped, sitting up, straddling Harlan. “Are your horses loose?”
He closed his eyes. “Shit. No. Boone’s staying in town. That’s probably Colt coming back from a ride.” Harlan reached around her waist and pressed against her back, pulling her down on top of him again, and hugged her. “If I wasn’t related to that man, I swear I’d probably shoot him.”
“You don’t mean that,” she purred, reluctantly easing off him. Feeling her heart banging in her chest, she side-eyed Harlan while pulling down her T-shirt and straightening it.
“Damn it.” Harlan fastened his belt and then got to his feet.
She could see the fire raging in those sapphire eyes of his, even in the shadows.
“You and me.” Harlan wrapped his hand around hers and helped her up. “This isn’t over.”
Chapter Fifteen
IT WAS THE LAST THING he needed. Extremely uncomfortable, with his balls about to explode and everything the good Lord above gave him down below dying to get out and meet Georgia, Harlan sighed at the sight of his thirty-year-old brother.
Holding the reins, leading his horse in on foot, Colt kept his head down on the short path to Morticia’s stall. At six-three, he was between Harlan and Boone in height, and possessed the kind of easygoing charm that made attracting friends effortless.
Although Harlan and Boone inherited their daddy’s silky pipes, there was more than enough talent to go around, and Colt got the numbers gene. Able to wrangle any equation and make it work for him, with the bonus innate ability to know a good deal from a bad one, he used his expertise to look out for his family.
After their father died, their mother couldn’t see the light of day through her grief and the unsurmountable debt resulting from the medical bills. Colt wrangled the numbers, took care of the taxes, made a few investments, and turned her finances right side up. When Colt made their mother’s dream to have a condo in Florida come true, she dubbed him her Dream Maker.
In most cases a man with that kind of skill would be an arrogant ass, but that wasn’t the case with Colt.
“Oh, hey,” he looked up, casually tossing his golden-brown hair out of his eyes just as he was about to turn into Morticia’s stall. When Colt noticed Georgia, he brightened. “And how are you?”
“She’s excellent.” Harlan straightened, throwing Colt a clue with a glower that said, she’s mine.
“Georgia, this is Colt. Colt, Georgia.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, a bit more subdued.
“You too.” Harlan saw Georgia wave in his peripheral vision.
Colt angled his body, stretching to get a better look, most likely having to stop himself from going into charmer boy mode. “I checked the drainage in pasture five.”
Harlan looked beyond the stable door and thankfully didn’t see any more surprises or friends. “So, we’re all set, then?”
“I ran into Jeb Mahoney. He thought I was on his property, and seemed out of it, but other than that, yeah, we’re good.”
Well, that was enough of the gossip and pleasantries. It didn’t look like Colt was in any hurry to leave, but Harlan sure wasn’t going to stand around and have a family reunion.
He squeezed Georgia’s hand, knowing Colt would most likely raid his fridge for a beer before heading back to his ranch. It pissed him off that he hadn’t noticed Colt’s truck. It could’ve been a shit show of embarrassment for Georgia since he'd left the door to the supply room wide open.
“Have a good night.” Harlan kept the comment flat, wrapping up the conversation.
Colt grinned, ducking his head to hide his expression from Georgia, obviously crystal clear about Harlan’s cue.
“You, too.” Colt caught his eye again, mouthing to him privately, “it's about time.”
Harlan raised his brows, wanting to laugh—not because Georgia was a conquest, or to diminish what they were about to do, but because it had been a damn long time since he'd felt alive. “Will do.”
He ushered Georgia past his brother, who was now in Morticia’s stable, and she called over her shoulder, “Nice meeting you, Colt,” before they slipped out the door, holding hands while they dashed down the path.
He wanted to pick Georgia up and run to the studio but held back, controlling himself step by aching step. When Harlan opened the door, though, he couldn’t wait a second longer to feel her velvet skin. Sliding his arm around her waist, he quickly drew her inside.
“Finally,” he whispered, backing her up against the door while it closed. Tunneling his fingers through her silky hair, Harlan studied her flushed cheeks, her mouth, her neck, deciding where to begin unwrapping his treasure.
She blinked, looking down shyly, clearly backing away from the intensity of his gaze. Was it fear he caught a glimpse of? Worry?
“What is it?”
Georgia took a shuddering breath and shrugged.
“What?” He asked again, using a finger to brush her hair away from her eye and gently trace the outline of her jaw. He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips against hers, feeling her tremble. “Let’s take this slow,” he whispered against her succulent neck, reminding himself as much as Georgia.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “Just jittery, I guess. I haven’t been with anyone for a long time.” Her fingers shook when she caressed his arm and then pulled back, making his heart still. “And I’ve gained a little weight.” She looked at the floor and then at the wall. “Oh, never mind.”
“Hey, you don’t have to worry about anything with me,” he said, crouching to her height, making sure she met his eyes and knew how much he meant what he said. Harlan wanted to add, you can trust me, and you are so gorgeous, and I love how curvy you are, but didn’t want her to think he was feeding her lines.
He’d never had this reaction from a woman before. They'd usually be banging each other by now, but she...this...the way they started, the fighting...this situation was unlike any other. “Look at me,” he said softly. “This is just us.”
“I know,” her words were all breath. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” Georgia sighed, her eyes moving as if she was playing a
ping-pong match in her head. Turning away, she ambled farther into the studio, surveying his collection of guitars on the far wall, and the amps next to the small sofa under the window.
Afraid he'd scare her if she knew just how badly he wanted to be inside her, Harlan kept his distance. He swallowed hard, watching Georgia keep her back to him while running her delicate fingers along the edge of the table in the corner.
“You brought my creativity back to me,” he confessed, surprising himself by admitting it.
She spun around. “I did?”
“You did,” he edged closer, dying to tuck his hands under her shirt and feel her soft skin, but holding back with every ounce of willpower he could muster. “I’ve been writing again. Not just with Boone. Writing on my own for the first time in—I can’t remember.”
And she reached out and touched him.
He saw her exhale, noting the way the tension eased from her face as she intertwined her small fingers in his. Georgia glanced up, furrowing her brows, sucking on her insanely tempting bottom lip. “How did I inspire you?”
How far could he go without having her run away from him? Holding back on anything was a foreign concept to Harlan, but with Georgia—if it was what she needed—he’d learn.
“Tell me,” she pressed, squeezing his hand and then wrapping her arms around his waist, making everything perfect again.
He let out a sigh, gazing down into her pretty eyes. “You sure you want to hear it?”
She nodded.
“I might embarrass you.”
“Now I really want to know.” She snuggled against his chest, and he held her, content to feel her in his arms while they rocked together.
Closing his eyes, debating the risk of her walking out the door, Harlan broke the silence with the truth, telling her softly, “I think I was inspired the first second I saw you come out from behind that gooseberry bush... You lit a spark. I had this need to protect you.”
“Hmm...” she purred, snuggling her cheek against his chest.