Coming Altered: Welcome to Carson, Book Four

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Coming Altered: Welcome to Carson, Book Four Page 8

by Renee Harless


  “Oh, just remembering something. Lost in thought,” she replies as she turns her attention towards him.

  Earlier when they had met in the executive office of the record company she hadn’t had the chance to take him in his entirety. Harlan Jax stands before her in a tight black t-shirt sculpted against his body showcasing each line of his defined abs and pecs; the same abs she wanted to feel her tongue press against. His faded denim jeans fit snugly against his thighs; thighs she wanted to feel pressed up against her once more.

  He coughs as her eyes stray back to his face, his sea green gaze latching onto her.

  “I’m sorry. Do you want to sit?” she asks as she gestures towards the seat across from her.

  “Do you mind switching seats?” he retorts with a slight blush forming to his cheeks. Cassidy tilts her head in confusion. “It’s that I always like to face the door. Call it a protective instinct.”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Cassidy extricates herself from the chair, slides around the table, and plants herself on the opposite side.

  “Thank you,” Harlan praises just as Mama Lou walks out holding two plates of French Toast along her arms and two coffee mugs and a syrup container in her hands. This woman is a super hero.

  “Here you are. Harlan, good to see you, son. It’s been a while.”

  “You too, Mama. I’ve been a bit busy,” he adds with a smile directed towards Cassidy.

  “I can see that,” Mama returns with a wink. “Holler if you need anything.”

  As Mama disappears back to the kitchen Harlan looks down at their plates and smiles while saying, “More in common, I see.”

  Cassidy grabs the fork placed on her plate and spears one of the triangle slices of toast, bringing it to her mouth.

  “It would seem so,” she adds before taking a bite of the warm goodness.

  Placing the piece of toast back on the plate she grasps the knife and proceeds to cut up her breakfast, drenching it in an unhealthy amount of syrup before handing the container to Harlan who does the same.

  They eat in companionable silence, nothing awkward about it; the kind of silence that speaks of a comfort within themselves and each other, the kind of long-term lovers.

  Harlan finishes his meal long before Cassidy and she can feel his stare on her as she takes a sip of coffee.

  As she places her cup back on the table she gestures towards her notebook beside him and says, “You know, I still need to verify your measurements.”

  “We’ll talk about that in a minute.”

  “Ok.”

  “Are you still going on tour with us next month?”

  “Yes, that’s the plan. I’ll have my own space for all the costumes.”

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “Harlan,” Cassidy says on a giggle, “you don’t even know me, plus I think that would make everyone very suspicious.”

  “I know enough about you to know that I want to be around you when I can. Being on the road sucks when you’re alone. And I’ll be careful.”

  “I…I don’t know. I need to buckle down on the costumes; that’s my first priority. I’m not even thinking about being on the road right now.”

  With a sullen look, Harlan nods his head and grabs her clutch and notebook.

  “Come on, let’s get your measurements done,” he commands as he tosses a fifty-dollar bill on the table.

  Cassidy walks behind him at a brisk pace to keep up as he exits the building and makes a sharp right down the sidewalk. They walk about two blocks before coming to the apartment building.

  Security waves them in and they ride in the elevator with a few other patrons, awkwardness growing with every floor.

  Cassidy feels a sense of guilt at her immediate shut down to his suggestion. She does want to spend time with him, but it’s all moving too fast for her. Hell, they just reconnected this morning and he’s ready to barrel forward.

  He’s turning out to be so much more than the rock star he’s been painted out to be, and that frightens her. She can separate her feelings for him, that love she knows is burrowed deep inside, if he was the asshole the papers called him, but he hasn’t been. Harlan, thus far, has been the complete opposite. And as that guilt gnaws at her as they exit the elevator she knows she needs to fix this, now.

  “Harlan?” she whispers as he stands in front of her entering his key into the lock. “Do you want to go away with me?”

  ARLAN KNOWS HE IS being irrational, this sudden feeling of solemnity and anger that pulses through his body. He understands that she has a major project that deserves her attention, but he wants her to be as excited to spend time with him as he is with her.

  For some reason, when she exclaimed at breakfast that the costumes were her first priority, he had been transported back to his childhood where he came second to his parent’s love of their bikes and club.

  Now he feels crazed that he is so in love with a chick that won’t be able to put them first.

  Don’t be stupid. She has a fucking job to do, he thinks to himself as they ride in the elevator with a few other people that live in the building.

  Even Miss Elderman his neighbor seems put off by his apparent attitude and doesn’t give her customary greeting of a hug and hello.

  With a deep breath, he exits the elevator with Cassidy on his heels and works to keep his hand from shaking as he enters the key into the lock.

  “Harlan?” he hears her whisper and then by surprise she tacks on some of the most beautiful words he has ever heard, “Do you want to go away with me?”

  Baby, I’d go to the ends of the Earth with you.

  But as Harlan turns around and witnesses the guilt ridden look in her eyes he feels a sadness encompass his heart. Opening the door, he sweeps his hand through the air gesturing for her to enter the apartment, secretly glad that the cleaning service had come by the day before.

  He watches as Cassidy stops in the middle of the studio space and eyes the bed and then the couch. Harlan lets the door slam behind him and watches as she startles before turning around to face him.

  “Where do you want to do this?” he questions as he brushes past her and places his wallet and keys on top of his dresser.

  “Do what?” she replies with a confused look marring the features on her beautiful face.

  “I thought you needed to confirm my measurements.”

  Jolting, she grabs her notebook and turns to a page with a bunch of numbers listed across the top. Out of her small bag she grabs a tape measure and pencil.

  “Yes. Ok,” she says almost nervously causing a smile to creep at the corner of his mouth. “Um, ok… yes… well,” she begins as she moves to stand before him.

  “What do you need, Cassidy?”

  “I need you to remove your clothes,” she says breathlessly.

  Without a second thought Harlan yanks off his shirt and tosses it on his bed close by. He crooks his brow in question as he rests his hands on his jeans and Cassidy nods in agreement.

  “Is this your ploy to get me naked?”

  “Sorry, some of the pants are form fitted so I want to make sure that they fit right,” she adds as she nips at her bottom lip timidly.

  His anger from earlier begins to dissipate at her uneasiness and he reaches up and tugs her lips free from the bite of her teeth.

  “It’s ok. I was just messing with you.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Distractedly she drops to her knees just as he pushes his pants down and kicks them aside with his shoes.

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down, he internally chants to himself.

  But he doesn’t listen to himself and looks down to find Cassidy perched on her knees before him holding the measuring tape between his legs as she uses her other hand to reach towards the floor.

  “Did you do this with everyone else?” he asks curiously, trying to keep his thoughts away from the beauty on her knees before him.

  “Yes,” she confirms as she continues to w
ork.

  She takes the tape measure and wraps it around his ankle, knee, and then his thigh, jotting down numbers in her notebook after each measure and then she wraps the tape around his ass bringing her face closer to the erection he desperately tries to keep in check behind his boxer briefs.

  As she brings the tape together her fingers brush against his cock and it jerks in response. Her chocolate doe eyes gaze up at him in alarm and then she licks her lips. Those perfectly pouty red lips that would look so amazing wrapped around his dick.

  She coughs as she rises from her knees and stands before him. Harlan gazes into her eyes before silently holding his arms out to the sides, extending them from his shoulder. Continuing to hold his gaze, she brushes up against him, chest to chest, and wraps the measuring tape around his back.

  He can smell her sweet vanilla scent as it penetrates the air and he breathes deeply hoping to memorize the identifiable fragrance. His head tilts back as the tips of her soft fingers trail across his back, extending the measuring tape. As she reaches back around, she only leans back slightly allowing her to bring the plastic-coated fabric together in her hands, and causing her hips to tilt forward.

  She licks her lips quickly, her pink tongue barely reaching past the opening of her lips before retreating back into her mouth.

  As she reaches a hand outward holding the edge of the tape between her fingers to measure the length of his left arm, she asks softly, “Did you hear me earlier?”

  He watches as Cassidy mentally takes note of the measurement then drops her hand and repeats the movement on the other side as Harlan hums an agreeable response.

  “Oh,” she utters as she gracefully raises her arm to measure his right limb, her eyes focused on the task.

  As her fingers stretch out, expanding the measuring tape, Harlan captures them in his and he intertwines them together. She gazes up at him, eyes wide in alarm, as he wraps their combined arms behind her back, forcing her body to become flush against his.

  “Why?”

  “Um…well…my sister is having a grand opening for her bakery’s expansion on Saturday. And I just thought…” she trails off.

  “You thought what?” Harlan asks as he leans his head closer to Cassidy’s, invading her space further.

  Targeting her attention to his bare chest she huffs out a deep breath before saying, “That you would want to spend some time together.”

  Seemingly embarrassed she shrugs out of Harlan’s grasp and snatches her notebook and clutch from the floor before turning around and working to make a hasty exit.

  “Cassidy!” Harlan shouts as he stands locked in the spot she left him.

  She doesn’t respond, but her body jerks in recognition just as her hand reaches the doorknob.

  “I’ll pick you up Friday at noon. Pack light.”

  She whips her head around in surprise and then smiles brightly before saying goodbye and leaving his apartment.

  “Fuck.”

  Knowing what he needs to do he grabs his phone and calls the one man he would rather not see.

  “Hello?”

  “Dad? I need my bike.”

  “ACK LIGHT, HE SAID,” Cassidy grumbles to herself. “I don’t know how to fucking pack light,” she adds as she rolls a pair of jeans and stuffs them in her tiny black duffle bag joining her signature white blazer, a few silk shirts, and her red shoes.

  Typically, when Cassidy travels home to Carson, North Carolina she likes to take some extra clothes from her fashion line to stock in the local clothing store. It’s like leaving a piece of herself at home with everyone, but she just can’t fathom how she’ll fit everything in her bag.

  Staring at the closet she fingers through the silks, satins, and cottons muttering her apologies for leaving her creations behind before shutting the door.

  Cassidy glances up at the large clock hanging above her dresser and curses before diving into the bathroom to grab a few toiletries.

  “How can I be expected to get ready so fast? Some of us have to work, rock star,” Cassidy mumbles as she stuffs her toothbrush and makeup bag into the duffle to join her clothes.

  “Do you always talk to yourself, gorgeous?” a deep voice bellows from the entry to her bedroom.

  Cassidy screams as she turns in the air and lands back against her night stand, hand clutching her chest. “How did you get in here?”

  Harlan steps further into the room, hands tucked deep in his pockets, and stares at her in amusement.

  “Well, your security guard let me in once I gave him my ID and he told me your apartment number. And then your door was unlocked. Which is something we need to talk about.”

  Cassidy stands straight and rubs at the soon to form bruise that the corner of the night stand will leave and narrows her eyes at Harlan.

  “I’ve only been home for a few minutes. And believe me; I know how to take care of myself.”

  “Not from an intruder if your reaction just now is any indication.”

  “Excuse me, but we’ve already established that you know little about my life. So, don’t underestimate me.”

  Harlan watches her intently as her chest moves up and down with the heavy breaths she takes to fill her lungs. As sexy as he is, this man definitely knows how to drive her crazy.

  His steps echo against the hardwood floor of her bedroom, meshing in with the staccato breaths she expels, as he moves forward.

  “You look sexy when you’re angry,” Harlan articulates as he steps into her space, places a hand along her bare neck, and uses his thumb to caress her jaw line.

  Her breath hitches and her core clenches, as if his touch sends a current through her body.

  “Harlan,” she whispers as his thumb continues to stroke across her skin.

  As he leans forward he hums a questioning tone before nipping at her jaw line with his teeth and softening the bite with his tongue. The softness of the scruff on his face surprises Cassidy and she jolts slightly at the sensation.

  “I…um…,” she begins as one of his hands moves under her shirt and tightens around her waist, gently squeezing at her flesh.

  His lips make a path down her neck.

  “Mmmm,” she moans, desperately wanting to give into the pleasure, into the feel of rightness when being with him.

  But she can’t. She feels too much far too quickly and fears that the sprouting of love residing in her heart will only grow in strength and magnitude, overtaking her soul and shrouding her goals – her path.

  With a strength, she never realized she encompassed, she reaches up and pushes against Harlan’s chest, causing him to step away from her.

  “Harlan, I’m sorry.”

  With a confused and defeated look on his face Harlan removes his backwards ball cap and runs his hands through his hair and then down his face, running his fingers over the stubble she so desperately loves.

  “Is this everything?” he asks when he takes notice of her bag sitting on the edge of her white duvet.

  She nods in approval and the corner of his mouth quirks in a half smile.

  “I must say that I am impressed. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pack light,” he adds as he reaches across the back and tugs the handles into his palms.

  “Well now you know. Never issue me a challenge. I’ll always accept and thrive.”

  Harlan glances over at her and his grin widens ten-fold.

  “Is that so? Well, good to remember. You ready to hit the road?”

  He utters the last part as more of a statement than a question and heads out of her bedroom, giving Cassidy a chance to gaze at him from behind while he walks.

  His toned ass is clad in dark denim with a flannel shirt draped over his upper body, opened to a white t-shirt snug against his chest and stomach.

  God, he’s delicious, she thinks to herself.

  “So are you. Every. Inch,” he implores in response.

  Cassidy can feel her cheeks flush as she realizes that she said her internal musings out loud – an ongoing ha
bit around Harlan it seems.

  After a minute of his heated stare plundering over her body he glances at her bare feet and asks if she has any boots to wear.

  “Boots?”

  “Yes, I have my bike. That’s why I asked you to pack light.”

  “Really?” she asks excitedly. “I love motorcycles, but, whew, that’s a long trip.”

  “I think we’ll manage.”

  She turns on her heels and heads back to her closet grabbing the black moto-boots she purchased back when she thought they were cute, which will now actually serve their purpose.

  Strutting back towards the entryway she hops on one foot as she finishes buckling the latches on her boot.

  “I probably should have asked this prior to now, but have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

  Finishing the latch, she stands up straight and moves towards her closet to grab the leather jacket she kept tucked away.

  “Yes, only a few times, but I have ridden.”

  She hears a chuckle behind her and she turns around to find Harlan suppressing a laugh behind his hand. She thinks for a moment, then blows out a deep breath deciphering the suggestive meaning he gave her statement.

  “You know what I meant!”

  “I know, I’m sorry. And, sweetheart, I like the way you ride.”

  Walking towards him with an extra sway of her hips she reaches forward and takes the door handle from his hand and steps out into the hallway while saucily saying, “Keep it up and you won’t get a repeat.”

  Cassidy hears a growl from behind her, as if she’s unleashed the wolf buried inside, then a door slam shut. Before she has the chance to glance back she feels a hand glide down her body from waist to her bottom, squeezing almost forcefully the muscled flesh.

  In her ear, she hears his whisper, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  She glares up at him but changes her expression when she sees the voracious glint in his eyes accompanying a broad smile. Cassidy smiles in return and he moves his free hand, the one that had been resting on her bottom, over to her wrist closest to his side. He guides his hand across hers before snaking their fingers together as they come to approach the elevator.

 

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