by Kate Kisset
“And then when I helped you get those boots on...and you put your hand on my shoulder.”
She tipped her head back, meeting his eyes.
“And when I saw you fall. That wasn’t inspiring, but I swear it made my heart stop. And then when I heard you running the water for your bath,” he whispered, drowning and lost in her eyes, “I imagined you—how you looked.” He swallowed thickly. “In the water, the way your skin would feel against mine... How you would taste.” Her gaze penetrated his soul. “I can think of a million songs right now, and they all start with...Georgia.”
Her kiss finished his sentence. A fire he couldn’t hold back or put out ignited as a moan escaped her and they devoured each other.
She tasted like the best dream, soft and sweet, and agonizingly sexy and hot at the same time. Georgia fumbled with the buttons down his shirt, whimpering with quick breaths between kisses, sending him further and further past the point of no return.
Watching her kiss him through heavy lids, the sight made him weak. “Don’t close your eyes, Georgia. I want you to see me. To know who’s kissing you,” he groaned, parting her lips with his tongue, holding the back of her head with his palm.
In a minute she was walking him backward and pulling off his shirt while he helped her slide out of hers.
Skin on skin, Georgia pressed against him, pushing him back on the table, all the while kissing him. And he was hers for the taking. Whatever she wanted to do was fine with him, but then her lips were gone.
Holding his breath, Harlan grew harder by the second watching her take off her boots and shimmy out of her jeans. When she was down to her bra and panties, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, finally seeing the long, smooth legs Georgia had hidden from him under jeans. “Never wear pants again,” he begged in a low growl, reaching for her, but she pushed him away.
“Don’t you want to watch?” Eyes sparkling with desire, she shot him a mischievous grin.
Wait. What did she just say?
Stunned into silence, and all eyes, he absorbed her every move as she looped her fingers under the tiny strings that held her lacy white panties together and slipped out of them.
“See, I can be naughty too,” she teased, in a low, sexy voice.
Mercy. His heart slammed against his chest. The woman was perfect before, but her eyes and the way she was watching him, and that neatly trimmed little triangle at the top of her silky thighs, took the cake.
“You want naughty?” He said shucking his boots, socks and jeans while she watched.
“Definitely.” She smiled like the cat that caught the canary, eyes trailing down to the obscene bulge his briefs were barely managing to contain. Without taking her eyes off him, she reached around and unfastened her bra.
He froze, waiting, mesmerized while she slipped the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor.
HE MEANT IT WHEN HE said, “it’s just us.”
Georgia felt the truth in her core. Harlan wasn’t playing with her, and he sure wasn’t teasing.
Imperfect, shy, or bold— Harlan wanted her exactly as she was. She saw the vulnerability in his eyes when he explained those pivotal moments. For once in her life she was on the same page with someone who desired her as much as she did him.
There was something so sexy, so freeing, about watching Harlan want her.
“You’re too, too far away from me, Georgia.” His deep, resonant voice hit her down low and, just like that, playtime was over. She rushed to him, pressing her hot skin against his, holding him tight. Her man, if only for one night.
His kisses set off another fire as he tenderly moved the hair off her shoulders with his fingers and lips, dropping to his knees. “Beautiful,” he moaned, running his rough hands up and down her back while suckling her breast.
The sensation of his tongue and teeth tugging at her nipple surprised her at first, coming in as a low rumble, waking every cell that had been hibernating for years. With every nip and suck, the quiet burn under her skin raged until it tore through her in quick breaths. She moaned, “Hurry Harlan,” not recognizing her voice as she arched her back, afraid she'd come undone at that instant. After all the foreplay she was a hair trigger about to go off.
But he was back to her mouth, kissing her, taking over as only a man like Harlan could. Knowing exactly what to do, and how, and when— “I want you so bad.”
With his hands around her waist and his warm chest glued to hers, he lifted her on the table. “Hold on, beauty,” he husked next to her ear as she melted, swirling deeper into the dream with him.
Eyelids heavy, she watched him slip out of his briefs and scoop his jeans off the floor to take out a condom. The sight of her wildest fantasy coming true took her breath away. Huge, thick, long and perfect, Harlan’s cock led the way as he strutted back to her, and she leaned back, giving him full access.
“Is this what you want, Georgia?” he asked in a deep voice, low and out of breath, rubbing against her tenderest part.
“Yes,” she whimpered, helping him as he slipped the condom on. “Yes,” she moaned, spreading her legs, pulling him closer. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he entered her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him. “Ohhhh,” a moan escaped as she pressed against him, feeling him fill her.
“You are so tight. My God, you are perfection,” Harlan groaned, going deeper, reaching around, holding her ass, moving into her and with her, sending her up and over the moon. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
Clinging to him, about to let go, she felt his lips sear into her skin, never leaving her body, covering her mouth, shoulder, cheeks, and neck with kisses. She closed her eyes, listening to their lovemaking sounds, and his quaking breaths.
Sucking his shoulder, she soared in the passion he poured over her, flying higher and higher. “You are a peach,” he said, thrusting harder. Covered in sweat, she met his every move as he held her, guiding her, stroking her, kissing her, loving her—
The tension coiled so quickly it took her breath away and sent her spinning. Skin on skin, moving with her at just the right angle, he asked, panting, eyes dark with heat, “Tell me what you want Georgia, let me give it to you...”
“Just like that,” she moaned, she couldn’t think.
“Does this feel good?” he asked, just when she was about to spin off to the stars.
“Yesssss, just like that,” she panted, barely hanging on.
“Come for me Georgia, come for me now.”
She bucked, clenching and unravelling. Crying out his name. “Harlannnn...,” she orbited, spinning off to an unknown place. Holding on tight, her heart about to explode, feeling like a rocket breaking out of earth’s atmosphere, Georgia cried out again, shattering with an intensity she’d never experienced.
“What you do to me,” Harlan rasped, panting, then let out a long, low groan, burying his face in her hair.
Blissfully spent, Georgia nestled her forehead against his shoulder, and they held each other, stroking each other’s backs, arms, hips, and everywhere else, until their breathing returned to normal.
Chapter Sixteen
SHE WAS SOUND ASLEEP on the sofa when he came back to the studio with the water. Harlan watched the way her chest rose and fell so peacefully. Was she dreaming?
He set the bottle down on the end table and quietly crept closer to his sleeping beauty, careful not to wake her.
With every breath Georgia inhaled, greater calm washed over him. He crouched down by her head. And softly, so softly, he stroked her hair, brushing it up off her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered, but Georgia didn’t wake.
Everything he wanted. Everything he needed was right here. His music, his family, his love. Harlan stroked her soft, silky hair in the semi-darkness. His love. If she wasn’t now, she would be. He knew it. Felt it.
A slow-burning warmth spread through him.
This was it.
Georgia.
She was it.
That feeling of p
rotectiveness that began the second he saw her swelled now. She belonged with him as much as he belonged with her. He grabbed one of the throw blankets in the pile at her feet and wrapped it around her to keep her warm and safe.
He straightened and reached down, tucking his hands under Georgia’s smooth knees and silky shoulders. Taking in the intoxicating, musky scent of him mixed with her, he lifted Georgia off the couch.
She moved in his arms, her hair resting against his chest, and murmured without opening her eyes, “Where are we going?”
He tucked down close, nuzzling behind her ear. “Somewhere more comfortable, darlin’.”
“Oh,” she said, her dazed voice sounding half asleep as she snuggled closer.
Sure that Colt picked up on the situation he interrupted in the barn and had left, Harlan carried her out of the studio to his house, feeling like a possessive bear with his mate. Georgia was his.
Carrying her through the shadows, careful not to bump into the furniture, he headed straight to his bedroom, where she belonged. With her cradled in his arms, he sat on the side of the bed, pulled the blankets and sheet back, and lightly set her down.
She turned and snuggled into the pillow as he tucked the blankets around her.
Keeping a steady watch over her, he rose from the bed and took his jeans off, then slipped under the covers next to her. Wrapping his arms around her and holding her close against him, Harlan fell asleep next to her, where he belonged.
Chapter Seventeen
DID THAT REALLY HAPPEN? Georgia’s eyes adjusted to the morning light. Blinking, she focused on the dresser across from her. This wasn’t the guest room.
She scanned the wall past sepia photos of what she guessed were the Rocky Mountains and spotted his cowboy hat on the hook near the door. Smelling fried bacon drifting in through the open door, she rolled over, remembering the studio, the couch, his taste, his touch.
Harlan.
His pillow was cold, but she could see the indentation where his head had been and crawled to the pillow to bury her nose in it. Harlan
“I missed you too.” His voice came from above.
She rolled over on her back and opened her arms. “Show me how much.” She grinned as Harlan crawled on top of her and kissed her behind her ear.
Georgia closed her eyes, embracing him, running her hands up and down the planes of his back, taking in the mulberry fresh laundry and all that sexy smell. “No fair, you're dressed.” She tugged on his shirt.
He propped himself on his elbows and kissed her slowly and softly until their tongues picked up the dance they'd left off last night. Harlan broke from the kiss, but she wasn’t about to let him get away and reached up, giving him another kiss, and then another.
“Breakfast in bed?” he asked.
“Hmm...” her stomach growled at the thought.
“Breakfast in the bathtub?” He kissed her cheek. “In the hallway? The closet? On the kitchen counter?”
Laughing, she hugged him, not quite believing how loving and gentle he was in the morning light, a far cry from the passionate, no-holds-barred lover from last night.
“I am a little hungry,” she confessed, wriggling out from under him. Besides they had all day, and she’d need her strength. Harlan got up and strolled to his closet. She tucked the blanket up under her chin.
“Denver?” He called out, and before she could answer, held up a Red Rocks Six Guns concert tee.
“Just my style,” she said, waving her hand for him to throw it.
“As much as I hate to cover the view.” Devilishly looking her up and down, Harlan handed her the shirt. “Boone’s at Bobby’s. The band’s holed up in town practicing for the show,” Harlan’s voice oozed like thick honey with desire.
It’s just a matter of time until Harlan’s inside me again. She felt his stare burning into her while she slipped the T-shirt on over her head. With a grin, Georgia took his hand and they walked to the kitchen.
Seated at the table, she eyed Harlan while he stood at the stove stirring the eggs. Even in a cozy, domestic setting she wouldn’t call Harlan cute. He was too ruggedly handsome for that.
“Nope. I don't think I’ll include this in my story,” she teased. “It would ruin your bad boy reputation if anyone knew you cooked."
“Trust me.” He swaggered to the table holding the pan. “There's plenty enough bad boy in me, and my eggs are mean. I make a mean pan of eggs.” He scooped the scrambled eggs onto yellow plates with blue trim and set the pan back on the stove.
“So,” he said, sliding into his chair. “How’s the story coming? I’m loving your unusual interview technique.” He grinned before putting a forkful of his culinary expertise in his mouth.
“You know good and well I haven’t had any time to work on it.” They must’ve had sex at least ten times last night. “Not that I’m complaining,” Georgia quickly added, playfully bumping his leg with hers.
Harlan leaned over and kissed her cheek before giving her thigh a sexy squeeze. “You know I’m an open book for you.” He eyed her, looking like he was about to say something else, but didn’t.
“Is that so?” She squirmed, and for a heartbeat wished she didn’t have to write his brother’s story. What if she’d met Harlan under different circumstances? What if he wasn’t a celebrity and they’d met like normal people do. If they’d met in town, would they have had a shot at a happily ever after?
“You know I haven’t sung in public for almost two years.”
Georgia nodded, surprised he wanted to talk about his career now. “Has it been that long?” she asked softly. She mentioned she needed to include him in Boone’s story. Did Harlan want to get into it now?
Georgia eyed him, trying to get a read. His deep blue stare came back to her. “Singing didn’t seem worth the hassle.”
Apparently he did want to talk about it. Maybe he needed to get something off his chest? “Right. Not after the, the ah”—she started to say, the affair with Danny’s wife and corrected herself—“those rumors and the social media—”
“Shitstorm is what it was.” He let out a heavy sigh. “No one even bothers to check facts anymore. They just blast something on Facebook, and the world takes it as fact.”
“And then it gets shared—”
“And before you know it, you’re on the news.” His face tightened and he pressed his lips together. “My manager was worthless. He’d already talked me into that disastrous kiss with Leva. That Vegas photo in the hall?” Harlan pointed with his chin. “That was his idea too. So I fired him. It’s one of the reasons I stopped performing. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore.”
“But your fans?” She reached out and squeezed his hand.
“They turned on me. They bought into the affair story. Every photo with a fan, everyone holding their phones up, snapping pictures at my shows—weren’t listening to my music anymore.”
“I can’t believe that’s true. I’m sure some of them were there to see you. No, I’m sure most of them were.”
He shook his head, staring into space, and then came back to her, pointedly asking, “Did you know there were people who came to my shows just to see how I was getting along with my drummer?”
“It must have been difficult for you,” she said, restlessly moving her eggs around her dish, feeling the anxiety building. Must they talk about Danny’s wife, and the woman he left her for, now? She just got out of his bed.
“It was,” he explained, making quotation marks with his fingers. “‘Danny isn’t talking to him today. They got into a fight backstage right before the show. He left that sweet girl for Danny’s wife.’ Folks were just making shit up out of nothing, and I got sick of it.”
“I—I don’t know what to think.” She bit her lip and stared at her coffee mug.
“But you didn’t ask. You haven’t asked about the rumor once since you got here. Not once.”
“No. And I wasn’t about to bring it up, not unless you wanted to. I wanted to give you a chance to
explain, have a voice if you want, tell people your side of the story, but it’s your choice.” Georgia inhaled a deep breath, struggling to stay neutral and professional. She wanted to get up from the table. Talking about this was the last thing she wanted to do, but she reminded herself she came to the ranch for Boone’s story and kept her focus on the music. “There’s a lot more to you than your drummer, or his wife for that matter.”
“I had a stalker.”
“What the hell? What did she do?” Even though she didn’t have any underwear on under Harlan’s T-shirt and still smelled like him, Georgia needed to snap into work mode and get Harlan’s side of the story correct. She scanned the kitchen counters for a pen, a pencil, paper, anything.
“She broke in. Stole my phone, had my contacts, started making calls. The whole thing was bullshit. And the woman I supposedly left for Trisha—Danny’s wife—” he clarified, “is my cousin. She was going through a divorce, so I let her stay here for a while to get her mind off the bastard.”
Georgia’s heart flipped over with relief. Her instincts had been right about him. She spotted a notepad and pen by the fridge and pointed. “Do you mind if I just grab that pad over there?” She started for the counter.
“Go for it.” Harlan turned, watching as she grabbed it and came back to the table.”
“Why didn’t you tell everyone she was your cousin?”
“Because it was none of anyone’s damn business.”
“But you could’ve shut the story down. Sorry,” she said, sliding back into her chair. “I just don’t want to forget any of this.” She flipped a page on the notepad. “Why keep it secret? You could’ve mentioned you had a stalker. So many celebrities have them. You would’ve quashed the rumor immediately.”
“Because then her name would be in the paper, and her family asked me to keep it private. She’d never been in trouble before, and was usually fine, but went off her meds. Her folks took her back home and have been watching her. I didn’t press charges and didn’t feel the need to explain my actions.”