Hard Man

by Amarinda Jones

  “I say things as they are. You may want to try that sometime, Harry.”

  Harry nodded his head in thought. “You have a problem.”

  “I do?” Ashbea had the horrible feeling she was going to miss this man when he was gone from her life. That was crazy of course. He had called her a mistake and spontaneous, wild sex did not make a long-term relationship. Remember that. But then Harry smiled at her words and she had trouble remembering anything. He had that effect on her.

  “No, other stuff.” Harry pulled his hand from hers as if remembering why he was there. He cleared his throat. “As part of my job I check the storage area where all the products for the different suppliers at the convention are kept.”

  Who was this man? Tender and sweet, hot and sexy but then cool and careful. He was the proverbial enigma wrapped around a riddle. As much as Ashbea sucked at puzzles, she wanted to work Harry out. “Your job sounds almost as boring as my job.”

  “Does Princess Mitzi have enemies?”

  Ashbea snorted. “Undoubtedly. Mitzi pisses off everyone from the mailman to the office cleaner. The staff loathes her and most store buyers hate her with a passion. Actually, I believe she’s probably pissed off a good percentage of the population in one way or the other. Why?” There were no random questions in life.

  “Take those shoes off and follow me.” Harry smiled again, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “You don’t need come-fuck-me shoes. You’re fuckable without them.”

  Ashbea felt hot all over and her inner thighs started to sweat. “Are you trying to drive me mad?” She bent down and unstrapped the heels.

  “Yeah, bumblebee, that’s my plan.” He looked her up and down. “You’re short.”

  She rolled her eyes at his words. “How inconvenient for you.”

  “And you’re a smart-ass,” Harry replied, ushering her out.

  “As are you.”

  * * * * *

  “Holy crap!” Ashbea was agog. All the heels had been sawn off the Princess Mitzi line of shoes.

  Harry caught Ashbea by the elbow as she staggered back against him. “Yeah, it’s pretty messy.” He led her farther into the storage room. A discarded hacksaw was thrown in among the debris. Harry bent down to pick up one mutilated shoe. “Why would you encase a cigarette in clear a plastic heel?” This was one of the weirdest conventions, second only to the bondage one they had two months ago where they had wanted a half-naked woman to be suspended from the ceiling by ropes. Harry had put the kibosh on that. Half-naked was fine. Suspension from anywhere was a health and safety risk and not worth any publicity.

  “It was Mitzi’s idea.” Ashbea took the heel from his hand. “She thinks things like eyeliner pencils, lipstick pens, nail files and the like are artistic and original when covered in plastic. I think she’s nuts.”

  That was one of the things he loved about Ashbea. She said what she thought. Loved? Steady on, man. “Is your employer on drugs?” Better to focus on the problem at hand and not the woman at his side. Ashbea was an unforeseen complication Harry still wasn’t sure how to deal with. She was the first woman in a long while he wanted to spend any time with.

  “Who knows what Mitzi’s on.” Ashbea surveyed the mess of broken shoes. “She’s going to throw the biggest hissy fit when she sees this.”

  And no doubt blame Ashbea in some way. Harry saw enough of Mitzi to realize the woman was a bully. Instinctively he wanted to protect Ashbea from her. “So who’s the competition down here?”

  “Angela’s Ankles and Polly’s Perfect Pins.” She raked a hand through her hair. “There are some weird-assed people in the come-fuck-me shoe business. Angela is super friendly to your face but would knife the competition in a heartbeat and Polly appears like a sweet, elderly woman but she has the cunning of a rat. Both of them hate Mitzi, which is not a crime in itself as it shows good taste, but both would like to see the company fold as Princess Mitzi is their main rival in plastic shoes.”

  Crazy names for a crazy business that appeared as cutthroat as any. “Uh-huh.” Harry smiled. He had been doing that a lot in the last couple of days and it felt strange yet good.

  “Lucky, they were only samples and not to wear.” Ashbea shook her head in wonder. “How do I tell bimbo brain about this without needing six aspirins afterward to counteract the high-pitched Mitzi whine?”

  “Let’s glue the heels back on.” The words were out of his mouth before Harry had time to think.

  Ashbea was surprised. “Together?”

  “Yeah.” It surprised him as well. His initial plan had been to avoid this woman like the plague but there was something about Ashbea. She intrigued him. Sexually she was amazing. Ashbea thrilled him in a way no other woman had. It was more than just bodies slamming together looking for release. Harry wanted to please Ashbea. There was also this need he had to help and protect her. That was not something he had ever felt even with Caitlyn, or if he did it was not as insistent. It was almost like a primal urge to be near her and damn the consequences. “It could be fun.”

  “I don’t think you’ve had fun in a long time, Harry.”

  She was right. He had wallowed in his own guilt far too long to consider getting anything else out of life. Less and less he was viewing her with the same suspicion he gave to other females. Harry wanted to know more about what went on in Ashbea’s head. Besides, gluing on dumb heels would give him more time to decide what he felt about this woman. “What do you have to lose, bumblebee?”

  Basically, it was her shirt followed by her bra then her panties. One minute Harry was being all helpful collecting broken heels into a pile and the next he was coming at her with a look that made her panties wet.

  “Harry.” Ashbea should have been backing away and concentrating on the job at hand but heels could not compete with the promise of a nice, hard cock. She wanted to feel him once more all hot and tight and pounding away inside her. Just the thought of it made her tremble. No one made love to her like Harry. Made love? I mean sex. Love indicated commitment. They had none unless it was to a mutual orgasm.

  “Yeah?” Harry’s hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples.

  “We can’t keep doing this.” Well, they could but where was that going to get them? He hated her and she had to go home to Brisbane. “It’s wrong.” She caught at his hands.

  “Yes it is.”

  “This will get us nowhere.”

  “True.”

  At least Harry was honest. He wasn’t promising forever. This was a momentary thing and Ashbea planned to take advantage of whatever was on offer. There was something about Harry that made her want to throw caution to the wind and just be as she wanted with him. “Take your clothes off, Harry.” Ashbea wanted to see him naked and whatever time she had, Ashbea wanted to use it. To hell with the consequences.

  “That will make it right?”

  “Maybe not but I need your skin against mine.” Harry hesitated. “Oh come on you’ve seen my boobs.”

  “I don’t have boobs.”

  “You have other stuff. I want to see it all.” Ashbea knew why he was still. The scars on his body. Had anyone seen them in daylight? Was she the only one to have caught a glimpse? “Please.” It was suddenly terribly important to her for him to at least open up this part of his life to her.

  “Bumblebee—”

  “I’m not like other women.” Whatever he thought she may think was wrong. Ashbea didn’t believe in judging on looks. He was a hard man to figure out and she wanted to know more. She had a feeling his scars were the answer to his attitude.

  Harry shook his head in defeat. “You’re an original, that’s for sure.” He dropped his hands in surrender.

  That in itself meant more to Ashbea than he would ever know. She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the edges open. There were more scars than she thought. In the hazy heat of passion she had only seen the ones on his ribs but not those on his chest and stomach. Ashbea let the shirt drop to the floor. She reached out and touched one deep go
uge on his chest. Whatever happened to him had to have been painful. Ashbea felt the tears prick at her eyes as her fingertips traced that ragged scar down to the next.

  “Ashbea…” Harry closed his hand over hers.

  She lifted her face to him. “You can tell me or not. The thing is, Harry, I want you. The whole man. These scars are a part of you. I need to touch and feel and understand you.” The ill-matched pieces of the man were starting to fall haphazardly into place. He was scarred not only physically but mentally and he allowed his scars to dictate his life. Well, not anymore and not with me. “Please, Harry.” Ashbea lifted his hand from hers.

  Harry nodded, his lips a thin line of control. “This is not the most private place to do this.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, no one else exists except you and me.” And a convention center full of screaming, stumbling women but Ashbea could ignore them when she was with Harry. She wasn’t silly. She knew what this was costing him. Trusting someone with something that cut so deep like this was a big thing to ask. Ashbea worked at removing his pants. She wanted to see the whole man. Harry didn’t move other than to kick off his shoes and lift his feet to allow his trousers to be removed.

  Ashbea stood back, her eyes running over his body. Whatever accident he had been in had been horrific. Just thinking off the pain he had endured made her admire the man more. Although he hid his scars, Harry did not use them for pity either. He was proud and Ashbea loved him. She stiffened slightly as that realization hit her. Good God, I love him! It didn’t scare her as much as she thought it might. It just made sense. Problem was sense did not always mean people were meant to stay together.

  “You’re beautiful, Harry.” Ashbea ran her hands down his chest to his hips and thighs. So much damage yet so much beauty.

  “I’m hardly that.”

  “You’ve made yourself blind to the obvious,” she told him. “Did you think I would be shocked or horrified? If positions were reversed would you think less of me?”

  “No, but—”

  “But what? You’ve been badly wounded but that doesn’t stop you being a gorgeous, sexy man.” It was the truth. Harry was the hottest man Ashbea had ever clapped eyes on. His firm muscled flesh and six-pack abs and hard pecs made her mouth water. “And you know what? I’m not one of those women who’ll be happy to be kept in the dark and then pushed away after one quick tumble. I deserve more.”

  “I know that.”

  “Good.” Ashbea wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. There was nothing sexual in it. This was about understanding and believing in someone. Harry’s arms held her so tightly that Ashbea could almost feel the pain he had endured. How lonely had he been? She looked up into his eyes. “Stand still.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.” She dropped her hands from his waist and leaned in and licked the long, jagged scar on his chest. Ashbea felt the shiver run through him. She smiled. Ashbea planned to make him shiver all over. She let her tongue move down to the next scar, lapping the flesh as if to heal it with her mouth. It may have been crazy but it was something she wanted to do. Ashbea wanted to love the body of the man she loved.

  Harry lifted her face up to his. “If you are going to do that to every scar it’s going to take forever, bumblebee.”

  “Maybe.” She kissed the ragged edge of a wound on his stomach. The crisscross of scars went right down his body. She was determined to taste them all. Maybe I want forever with you.

  “I have a better idea.” Harry lifted her into his arms and carried her over to a table. “Though this is not the most romantic place.”

  “Isn’t it?” Did it matter when you were in love with someone? Not that Ashbea would tell Harry that. He would probably think her mad. Besides the man was dealing with enough in his life without some lovesick woman from Brisbane mooning after him.

  “You are the sweetest, most loving woman.” Harry laid her down on the table. “And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not pushing me.” Harry leaned down and kissed her lips.

  How could she not love someone who kissed her so sweetly? “I can’t promise I won’t do that.” Ashbea looked at his cock. “But I can promise you’ll always find a home for your friend with me. And no, it’s not something I have ever said to another man before. You make me want to do and say the craziest things.”

  Harry ran his finger along her bottom lip, his eyes locked on hers. “Is this crazy?”

  Ashbea felt her heart skip a beat. Dear lord, did he feel the same way? “Isn’t it?” She opened her legs in invitation. Ashbea just wanted to be with him. It was simple. Man, woman, love. It was as old and enduring as time. She needed to connect with him any way possible.

  “You know it’s not.” His hand ran up her lower thighs. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “Oh. Damn.” Ashbea was annoyed with herself. She just presumed he did after their last two outings but then maybe she had been presuming too much. “That’s okay.” And it was. The point of the exercise was to get to know something about the man. Though she did have this burning need for more…

  “No it’s not, bumblebee.” He lowered his head to her pussy.

  “What are you doing?” Her hands grabbed at his shoulders. Good grief. Was he going to tongue her? There? No one had ever done that before. “Um, Harry—”

  He arched an eyebrow at her in amusement. “What? Scared of losing control?”

  “Yes, by myself I am.” The best sex was a joint action, not solitary. The alone kind of sex she could have done at home. Losing control with a man like Harry was much more fun. “I can wait.” No I can’t, but I can be stoic.

  “I can’t.” Harry lifted her legs so her pussy was level with his mouth.

  When his tongue touched her clit, Ashbea’s whole body jerked in response. “Oh Harry…” she moaned as he licked the firm nub again.

  “You like?”

  “I love.” How could she not? His hot tongue was doing things to her that she’d only read about and even then this was even better than she’d imagined. It gave Ashbea some definite thoughts of her own when it came to savoring some of Harry’s body parts in return. She had never been an adventurous lover. She believed that was less her fault and more to do with the couple of men she had been with. But with Harry? Ashbea wanted to do and try everything and he was willing to oblige. His tongue once more flicked on her clit in a series of rapid strokes designed to drive her wild—and it was working.

  “Do you love me or this?” Harry’s eyes rose to meet hers.

  Oh boy. The sudden silence between them was deafening. What was he saying? Or more to the point what wasn’t he saying? Did he feel more for her than just a fling? Or am I trying to make more out of this than there is?

  “You make me feel so good.” A delicious man had his head between her thighs. That was a no-brainer and intense enough to make any woman’s heart pound.

  “You’re not answering the question.”

  “Maybe neither of us is sure of the answer.” Was this as lust at first sight? Was it real love? Or did she feel this way just because of the sex? If Harry had been boring in bed, or in this case on the table, the floor and against the door, would she feel the same way?

  Harry’s mouth hovered over her clit. “I’m sure, bumblebee.”

  Bite me. Suck me. Eat me. “After a couple of days?” Ashbea started throwing mental obstacles in their path. She needed to believe this wasn’t a lustful infatuation.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re smarter than me, Harry boy.”

  In answer, Harry’s mouth fastened down on her clit and sucked so hard that Ashbea’s hips rose from the table. She ground her pussy into his face. It was definitely not something nice girls did but then nice didn’t always get her an orgasm. “Oh Harry,” Ashbea panted breathlessly as she held on to his shoulders while two of his fingers slid inside her vagina. She bore down on his hand and pushed her hips up and down as both his mouth and fingers
drove her on relentlessly toward orgasm. His fingers were no match for his cock but they felt mighty good all the same. Vaguely Ashbea wondered what someone would think if they walked in on them. But then, other than the misfits at Princess Mitzi shoes, who would be more focused on the broken heels than the naked man between her thighs, there was no one who Ashbea cared about in Melbourne.

  As the scream of release came to her lips, Harry lifted his mouth and kissed her, never once missing a beat as he kept thrusting away inside her. Ashbea shook and clutched Harry to her heart. She snaked one hand down to the cock that was hard against her stomach.

  “Bumblebee,” Harry growled the word out.

  “Help me up.” Harry pulled her up until Ashbea was sitting on the table, her legs spread and dangling over the edge. She regripped his cock and started sliding her hand up and down the shaft. It was so hard and hot and once more she remembered how it felt inside her. Mental note—buy emergency stash of condoms. But for now, Ashbea wanted to see Harry come under her hand. The idea excited her.

  “This will get messy.”

  Ashbea considered that. She looked around the room. The usual Princess Mitzi road show crap littered every surface. “T-shirt.” She pointed to the open box of acid yellow Princess Mitzi promotional t-shirts that Mitzi had emblazed with her face. They were thin and cheaply made—a lot like the owner of the company. The few people who had been offered them had refused. Ashbea knew why. The already sticklike Mitzi looked positively sickly against the hard yellow background. They reminded Ashbea of something bubonic plague victims would wear as insignia to declare their illness and to warn others to stay away from them. She let go of Harry’s cock. “Give me one of those please.”

  Harry reached over and picked one up. “I can’t come on this.”

  “Turn it inside out and Mitzi never looked better.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” He tossed the shirt to her.

  Ashbea turned it so Mitzi’s jaundiced face was hiding from them. “But I want to and there’s the difference. Now bring that cock of yours back to me.”

  Harry shook his head and smiled. “What would Mitzi think?”