Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

She crushed her lips to his. Sucking his sanity right into her hungry mouth with a scorching yet playful kiss.

The sweet, slow lovemaking didn’t vanish in a fresh burst of passion, but stayed on course as they moved together. Or in opposition. He couldn’t touch her enough. His hands shook as they trailed from her jaw to her neck to her shoulders to cup the heavy weight of her br**sts in his palms.

Harper curled her hands around his face and muttered, “And you’re much too smart for the likes of me.”

He laughed.

“I love to hear you laugh, Bran. You don’t do it often enough.”

“You make me laugh. Maybe I should keep you around as comic relief.”

She gave his forehead a slight head butt, which strangely enough reminded him of the way his goats showed affection to each other. “Maybe you should.”

“Mmm. Grind your clit into me. Make yourself come. I wanna watch.”

“I can make myself come a lot faster if I use my fingers.”

“Show me.”

She traced her index and middle finger across the seam of his lips. “Open. Get them wet.”

He did.

Then she slipped her hand between their bodies and stroked in time to the bumping of his hips.

“That’s sexy as hell, Harper. Everything you do is sexy.” He latched his mouth onto the sweep of skin where her neck flowed into her chest and left little nibbling kisses.

“More. God. More, please. I’m so . . . almost ...”

Wet, juicy ripples seemed to draw his c**k deeper into her cunt during her orgasm. Holding off was pointless. After he shot his load, he rested his head back and stared at the profusion of stars above them.

But nothing beat the glow on Harper’s face after she’d floated back to earth.

“Why the big smile, sweetheart?”

“Because this was definitely better than s’mores.”

Chapter Eighteen

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave town, Harper,” Rose Smith confided.

“I’m sure Bernice will find someone to take good care of her nail clients.” At least she hoped so. Max’s girlfriend, Nikki, had applied. She seemed a sweet girl—if a bit flaky—but she was genuinely interested in doing nails.

“But anytime there’s a change, the prices go up.”

Telling Rose everything would stay the same was a big fat lie, so Harper kept her mouth shut.

“Getting my nails done is a luxury and I’d hate to give it up.”

“After working your fingers to the bone on the ranch the last fifty years, I don’t know anyone who deserves pampering more than you, Rose.”

“You’re such a sweet girl.”

Harper braced herself for Rose’s gentle chiding. “Why aren’t you married?” But for once Rose didn’t voice her concern for Harper’s lack of marital happiness. She went off on another tangent about the perils of loving the wrong man.

For some reason Harper thought of Bran.

Which should serve as a warning—if Bran’s name was the first one that popped up when she thought of the perils of love. If she wasn’t careful, if she looked too deeply or read too much into his change in demeanor around her since the branding, she might believe he’d started to have feelings for her too.

Too.

Face it. You’re already past the point of no return with the sweet and raunchy cowboy.

“. . . such a shame, really.”

Harper refocused on her client. “Sorry, Rose, I missed what you said. Such a shame about what?”

Rose went into a long-winded explanation about the marital woes of the youngest Benton girl, who’d recently turned forty. When Harper heard stories of infidelity and heartbreak, she wondered why anyone was so hot to get married. Especially when most unions ended in divorce. Not that she advocated her mother’s lifestyle or her screwed-up view of the world, but at least Dawn Masterson hadn’t compounded her mistakes by marrying any of the men who’d impregnated her.

After Rose left and Harper was cleaning up her station she looked up when the doorbell chimed. Her heart did that swoopflip-roll thing at seeing Bran just inside the door.

He seemed ill at ease amid all the “girly” stuff, so she met him halfway. “Hey. What brings you by? Need a manicure?”

He snorted with disdain. “Like that’ll ever happen. I was on my way to get some stuff in Rawlins and wondered if you wanted to ride along.”

“Stuff?” she repeated. “What kind of stuff?”

“Ah, the usual . . . ranch stuff.”

Silence.

She couldn’t figure out if this impromptu trip was business or a personal errand. Part of her didn’t want to press him to define it, because she was happy to see him. Might make her a lovesick fool, but she missed the rugged cowboy during the hours she wasn’t working with him on the ranch. If his expression was any indication, questioning his motives would put him on the defensive. She smiled. “Sure. I could use a change of pace. You’ve got great timing—I just finished up and was about to close down.”

“Need any help?”

“No. But I do have to lock the back door.” Harper cut through the salon, first checking to make sure all the appliances were shut off in the back room. She slid the dead bolt and clicked the lock on the heavy steel door. When she turned around, Bran was right there.

“I didn’t want to do this in full view of the windows, in case someone was peeking in.”