Hard to Handle (12 page)

Distracted, she said without thinking, “You really are big.”

“Yeah? I hadn't noticed.”

That made her laugh, and eased some of her anxiety. “Fibber.”

“Just teasing you so you'll relax a little. You're coiled so tight, I'm afraid you're going to go off screaming any minute.”

“No screaming, I promise.” Although she couldn't make any promises about moaning.

“Before you say yes or no, think about it. I don't want this to be a spur-of-the-moment decision that you'll regret later.”

“No regrets.” With the last of her chill chased away, she said, “Honestly, Harley, that tonight-only stipulation is part of the lure for me. If I'm out of character right now, doing spontaneous stuff I wouldn't normally do, who cares? I won't be seeing you again anyway.”

He held her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Then who will know if you give in to a fantasy, too?” And with that warning, he slid his hand to her shoulder and gently pressed her flat to her back.

Her heart raced; she bit her lip but didn't offer any resistance.

Fingers spread, he felt over her in the dark until he cupped his big hand over her thigh and urged her legs wide apart. His fingers lingered, teasing over her inner thigh, down to her knee, back up again—but not quite high enough.

A shiver rippled through her, and he whispered, “Very nice, Anastasia.”

She started to say, “Thank you,” but couldn't get the words out.

“Let me make you more comfortable.”

Oh God. She had to close her eyes. But the second she did, she felt Harley raising her arms up high above her head.

“No ties to restrain you,” he murmured, “but I want you to keep your arms there anyway. Pretend for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Now,” he said, “we only have one small problem.”

She opened her eyes and tried to see him. “What is it?”

He kissed her lightly. “I don't have a condom with me.”

H
ARLEY
hated lying to her, but he wasn't about to give in to the overwhelming urge to have her. Not completely. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist the craving to come back for more.

As he kept insisting, this could be no more than a onetime thing.

What he
could
do, and would do, was see to her pleasure. It'd be torture for him, but a sweet kind, worth the discomfort sure to burn him through the rest of the night.

Stasia started to lower her arms, and he caught both wrists in his right fist, then transferred them to his left so he'd have a hand free to touch her.

For now, he held her loosely. “No moving, honey, remember?”

“But you said—”

“That I don't have a rubber. I know.” Bending, he nuzzled her lips. She had such a soft mouth; he could taste her mouth for an hour and not be tired of it. “Don't worry about it.”

“Harley…I'm sorry, but I don't take those types of risks.”

“Me either.” She smelled really nice, too. Better than any woman he remembered. Sort of sweet and warm, very sexy.

His cock throbbed, but he wouldn't relent. He wanted her too damn much, so much that it threatened the rigid leash on his control. “Just hush and let me show you all the safe things that we can still enjoy.”

“But—”

Her protest turned into a gasp as he used his free hand to cup a breast. She wasn't overly endowed, but she was a handful, firm and soft. “I wish I had more light to see you.”

A breathless sound left her. “I might not do this in more light.”

If she thought he'd let her hide in the dark…
Damn
. Since they wouldn't be doing this again, and he couldn't very well expect her to welcome a flashlight shone over her, he had no choice but to allow her the inhibitions.

Harley drew a breath, and said, “Then I'm glad it's dark.”

But in his mind, he thought: bright sunlight. If he had his way, he'd have her naked under an afternoon sky with the hot sun on her skin. He'd be able to see all of her—and she'd have no way to hide from him.

The image in his mind stirred him further, and he cuddled her breast.

Under the layer of clothes, her nipple stiffened. Feeling urgent, Harley leaned down and nipped carefully with his teeth.

By reflex, she tugged at her arms, but he didn't let her go, and she relaxed again, then moaned.

“You're wearing too many clothes.” He half–sat up beside her. “Keep still.”

He could hear her fast, urgent breaths, but she didn't move. Smiling in satisfaction and need, Harley pushed the sweatshirt up above her breasts. He took a moment to cup both breasts, gently holding, caressing…

If he waited much longer, his control would slip.

“I need your panties off.” Hooking his fingers in the waistband, he said, “Lift your hips, honey.”

She hesitated only a heartbeat.

He slid the silky scrap of material down her legs and off her feet. He dropped it onto the floor. “Part your legs again.” As soon as she did, he pressed his palm firmly against her, covering the neat triangle of curls, heat, and dampness.

They both stilled.

His heart pounded.

Collecting himself, hoping to savor the sensations—for her—Harley slowly leaned down and took her mouth in a full-blown, tongue twining, wet kiss.

He meant to get her closer to the edge, to ease her into readiness.

But Stasia blew his good intentions to hell and back. The way she returned his kiss, how she pressed her pelvis up against him, squirming and hungry, destroyed his resolve.

Before he knew it, his hands were all over her, and soon after that, his mouth was on her everywhere, too. Her nipples drew tight as he licked over them, then sucked hard. Her belly hollowed out when he pressed several damp kisses down her rib cage.

Reacting totally on instinct, he simply wanted to devour her—and that was so unlike him. He liked playing with women. He relished the foreplay, building the pleasure, making women taut with need.

This time, he was the one on the ragged edge.

Hell, maybe the circumstances of the day had affected him more than he'd realized. So Stasia wasn't into being tied; she
was
dependent on him, needing him, and maybe that was enough.

Whatever drove him, he was more turned on than he could ever recall. He should just take her and be damned for the rest. He really was leaving in the morning and that'd take care of any impulse to see her again—something he wouldn't, couldn't allow.

After learning his lesson on relationships, he wasn't dumb enough to jump into another, especially not right before a grueling training schedule.

He opened his mouth on her skin just below her navel, gave her a tender love bite, left a hickey, and trailed his tongue to her hipbone. “Jesus, you taste good.”

Her soft moan was the only reply.

To his surprise, Stasia kept her arms raised as instructed. Harley felt the straining of her body as she locked her hands around the top of the chair, helping to constrain herself.

Breathing hard, he lifted up a little, barely able to see her in the darkness. He trailed his fingertips down one taut arm, to her armpit, and then to her breast.

He was so hard, he hurt with need.

Bending down, he drew her nipple deep into his mouth, and at the same time, wedged his hand back between her slim thighs. He could feel the wetness of her desire, her distended clitoris, and more than anything he wanted to go down on her.

But not just yet.

Still sucking on her nipple, he searched his fingers over her. With each pass over her clit, she flinched, tightened, breathed harder and faster.

Slipping his fingers lower, he moved over slick lips swollen with need. So perfect.

Gently, he parted her and, without warning, worked two fingers deep into her.

Her thighs clenched, her body bowed.

She cried out, but immediately muffled the sound, turning her face to the side and trying to still the rhythmic roll of her hips against his hand.

Unwilling to let her hold back, Harley brought his thumb up and over her clitoris, urging her on. Breath held, his own excitement churning, he worked her, timing his movements to hers.

And to his surprise, she started coming.

Damn.
She was incredible, hot. Keeping his hand between her legs, letting her ride out the pleasure at her own pace, he lifted up alongside her so he could feel her frantic breaths against his mouth.

“Very nice, Anastasia,” he whispered.

She pressed her face against his throat, doing her best to bite back her raw groans. She didn't entirely succeed, which pleased Harley a lot.

When she gradually settled back against him, he kissed her forehead, but left his fingers deep inside her. The contracting of her inner muscles ceased, and now he just enjoyed the warmth and wetness of her.

Smiling to himself, Harley told her, “You can lower your arms now.”

She gave another soft moan. “I don't know if I can or not.” But she did, loosely draping them around him and snuggling into his side.

After a few seconds, she asked, “Maybe you could move your hand now?”

“Not just yet. I like how you feel.” Slowly, he stroked his fingers out and back into her, and she sucked in her breath. Relishing her reaction, Harley asked, “Too much?”

“Yes.” Again, she ducked her face. “All of it is too much. I've never…That is…you make it seem pretty easy. I'm surprised.”

After easing his fingers away from her, he rested his hand on her bare hip and hugged her closer to his chest. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Thank you.” She toyed with his chest hair. “I'm sorry that we can't—”

“I'm fine.” And he was. Horny as hell, rigid with lust, but still feeling pretty satisfied with how things had progressed.

“Maybe I could…”

Harley caught her wandering hand, lifted it and kissed her fingers. “You don't need to do anything except kiss me good night, and then get some sleep.” He tucked the blanket up around them. “We're both exhausted.”

Seconds ticked by before she asked, “Are you sure, Harley?”

“Very sure.” It was better that he
not
have the memory of coming with her. It'd make it easier—he hoped—to put her out of his mind once he left Echo Lake. “Now go to sleep.”

Surprising him again, she did just that, fading into a deep sleep within minutes. For his part, Harley stared into the darkness, listened for intruders, and wondered why it felt so right being here, now, with Anastasia.

B
ARBER
heard the ringing of the phone and stretched out onto his back. Immediately, a small, warm body curled into his side and a slender thigh went over his abdomen.

Hello.

He lifted his head and surveyed the naked body wrapped around him. Nice.

He already had morning wood, but now he had appetite to match it.

The phone rang again.

Reaching out, he snagged his cell phone with his right hand, and used his left to cuddle a lush tush. “Hello?”

“It's Satch.”

Barber looked over at the woman. She opened sleepy eyes and smiled at him. “Morning, Satch. What's up?”
Other than me.
He grinned at his own humor and dropped his gaze to the voluptuous breast cushioned against his ribs.

Very nice.

“Harley there with you?” Satch asked.

“I'd kick his ass if he was. Why?”

Harley's uncle, who took life far too seriously by Barber's way of thinking, didn't appreciate the joke. “He's missing, damn it.”

“Missing? I just spoke with him a few days ago.” The little female let her fingers do some walking, and Barber closed his eyes in appreciation.

“I spoke with him yesterday and he was supposedly heading home. He swore to me he'd be here for breakfast bright and early.”

Barber glanced at a clock. It was only eight. “So maybe he's sleeping in.” He'd certainly planned to.

“I'm at his place and he's not here. Hasn't been here.” Then with suspicion, he asked, “Have you listened to the news at all in the past twenty-four hours?”

Barber recalled going to Roger's Rodeo late the previous afternoon. He'd spent a few hours eating, shooting pool, and relaxing. After that, he and Roger had discussed band business. Barber wanted to hire a female singer, and Roger had been real helpful with advertisement. He'd also provided a room at the bar for Barber to use for auditions.

So far, they hadn't gone well. Getting another female singer anywhere near as good as Dakota would be tough. But Dakota now did her own thing, and more often than not, it meant sticking close to her husband's side.