“Around here we’d call you high maintenance.” And that was why.

“Do you mean that I’ve washed recently?” I asked sweetly.

“Good to see you two getting along!” Mayor Marty came along, inserted himself between us and put an arm around both of our shoulders. I missed Heath instantly. Heath grunted, I sipped my cider, and Marty pattered along oblivious. Before long, Heath excused himself. But Sam sidled right up next to me where he’d been standing.

“You naughty bitch!” Sam whispered to me under his breath. Nothing got by him.

“What?” I played dumb.

“You found yourself a lumberjack. I’m so jealous.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I dismissed the idea, but I flushed as I did it.

“You’re all pink!” Sam exclaimed, eyes wide.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are! Ooo, you like him!” Middle school. Just when you’d thought you’d put it all behind you, it reared its ugly head yet again.

Heath settled himself in at the bar talking with the bartender. They must be buddies. I joined the guys over by the pool table. They loved teasing me. What did an L.A. girl know about playing pool? It would have been awesome to be a ringer, bat my eyelashes and then school them all like a veteran pool shark. But, honestly, I sucked at pool. I’d never played it growing up, and the kinds of bars I went to didn’t exactly feature dartboards and pool tables. Orchids, outdoor seati

ng, water features, these were my native language. Breaking, racking up, scratching? Not so much. Well, scratching I was quickly becoming familiar with.

But not knowing a thing about pool did have its advantages. It made flirting a breeze. Plenty of guys lined up to show me how to set up a shot, standing behind me and guiding me into just the right angle. It was fine. It was fun. But they weren’t Heath. The man I wanted to be with sat over at the bar, completely uninterested.

I guessed I should be thankful. It didn’t seem as if he’d breathed a word to anyone about us hooking up. Mauling each other, really. I didn’t see a single whispered comment or knowing wink, anything to suggest anyone knew I’d been a bad girl. Damn, did I want to be bad with him again. Those few minutes bantering with him against the wall had left me feeling all shaken and stirred.

He had such amazing hands. He even made holding a beer bottle look sexy, his hands were so big wrapped around the glass. He worked with them for a living, making such incredible furniture and art. And the way he touched me.

Fire warden Tom touched me then, a hand around my waist to supposedly guide me toward my next shot. It was harmless. It affected me much less than just the memory of Heath’s touch a few days ago.

But over at the bar, I caught Heath glaring. The moment our eyes met, he turned away. I gave an annoyed little puff and put too much force into my next shot, hitting absolutely nothing. It was Heath’s fault. What was his deal sitting there glaring? If he didn’t want me over here flirting with the boys, he should stop being so mean to me, telling me I should leave. If he wanted me the way it felt like he did, he should say so.

When I looked over again, he’d gone. All right, I guess that was how things were going to go down between us. Not at all. I should have felt relieved, grateful to be kept on the straight and narrow. Instead I felt all worked up as I drove back to the condo in the SUV he’d swapped out for me. I hadn’t even thanked him for it. I hadn’t had a chance. We’d barely seen each other, and when we did we went at it—literally and figuratively.

I drew myself a bath when I got back. The condo didn’t have anything like a big spa Jacuzzi tub, but the tub in the bathroom still had appeal. It was clean, held hot water and was big enough to submerge myself into. I’d finished off more than a few long, crazy work days with a nice, long soak in a tub. It always soothed my frayed nerves and calmed the jittery energy that powered me through non-stop meetings, shoots on location, networking lunches and drinks, plus the constant stream of texts, emails and phone calls shouting at me, demanding my attention.

But tonight, the bath didn’t settle me down. I had a different current pulsing through me, and it had nothing to do with the typical reasons. Tonight, I was all fired up and raring to go, but it wasn’t because my mind was racing with unreturned calls or memos I needed to draw up and send before sleep.

It was Heath. The way it felt to stand next to him, his huge presence, the heat radiating off of his body. He’d worn a simple long sleeved waffle shirt, nothing trendy or showy, but the way it fit him. The rounded muscles of his shoulders stretching the cotton, the definition of his pecs. I hadn’t even seen him with his shirt off. It wasn’t fair to tease a woman like that.

One hand drifted lazily down my body in the warm water, finding its way between my legs. Slipping a finger in, I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the fantasy, imagine if the night had gone differently. Imagine if he appeared at my door, every giant, glowering inch of him, and backed me up against a wall in seconds flat. He’s press me there, trap my hands up over my head. Maybe I’d just have emerged from the bath, all pink and rosy and naked under my towel. Then there’d be nothing between us, towel on the floor, he’d spread my thighs and touch me the way he did with his thick, rough fingers.

He liked talking dirty to me, coaxing it out of me, making me tell him how much I wanted it. My fingers started working harder, faster, pressing, stroking, plunging into my slick depths. I felt so alive, quivering, panting, pushing against my clit, my other hand up clutching my breast, rolling my nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

I was close, moaning, stroking myself, and I could imagine his huge, magnificent cock, the thick crown at my entrance. Then, all at once, he’d spread me so wide and fuck me, deep and hard.

“Oh!” I cried out and came, shuddering and bucking against my hand in the bath, my back arching up and out of the water as I pressed against my throbbing clit. I was so wet, so slippery and slick with need.

I sank back into the bath, sighing, letting the orgasm subside. But I knew there was a lot more where that came from.

CHAPTER 10

Heath

My workshop used to be my haven. Now even my lathing table reminded me of Violet. The way she’d looked spread out on it, the eager sounds she’d made, how close I’d been to tasting her. Up against that wall right there she’d told me she wanted to taste me.

Fuck. I was hard again, my cock pressing full against my jeans. I’d had more hard-ons in the last nine days since Violet had come to town than I had since early puberty, those awkward years when the sight of any cute girl anywhere had provoked an instant response. No thank you, teacher, I didn’t want to stand up just then, better keep my wood hidden underneath my desk.

Violet had me jerking off like a goddamned teenager. That night at the bar, watching her over at the pool table surrounded by a bunch of local yahoos? They didn’t know how to treat a woman like her. They couldn’t satisfy her like I knew I could. I’d gone home and barely made it into the shower before my hand closed around my cock, picturing her hot little mouth down sucking me as I came. It had taken the edge off, but it hadn’t made it go away. Hell, that night I’d almost climbed into my truck and driven over to her condo.

I’d been walking around clenching my teeth so hard my jaw was starting to ache. And I kind of liked the pain. It took my mind off the ache everywhere else.

Where had my quiet, easy life gone to? I had my brother Ash bothering me, too. He’d texted me again. He needed an answer, was I going to be his best man? And could I make it down to the city for an engagement party? Then I could also get fitted for a tux. All of a sudden my simple life didn’t feel so simple.

I’d successfully gotten away from it all, but now Ash was working his way back in. First, last year, he’d come to me for help. Paparazzi were hounding him. He’d had some trouble with his woman. He needed a place to take refuge. I’d found him a cabin not too far from here, and he’d hidden out for over a month. And during that time I’d realized how much we had in common.

Our father had hated us both, that was probably the most defining feature we shared. And wherever he was now, passed away over a year ago, I’m sure he was still hating on the both of us, his two greatest disappointments. Whereas our oldest brother, Colton, had risen directly in our father’s footsteps to assume the throne of the family business, Ash and I were the misfits. What kind of a Kavanaugh liked woodworking and messing around with motorcycles more than economics and networking at the country club?

My father had never known what to do with me, his hulking giant of a son. I’d gone to the right schools, but never taken the right classes. It drove him crazy that I’d gotten accepted into an Ivy League university, but instead of pledging a fraternity, playing a varsity sport and declaring my business major—essentially establishing my corporate network for the rest of my life—I’d hidden myself away in the machine shop.

And then, right before finally attaining that prestigious degree he’d assumed was a done deal, I’d walked away from it all. I’d started building the cabin on this land as my senior thesis, my culminating design and construct project in the school of engineering sciences. But when professors had started interfering, wanting this change and that re-do, I’d held up my middle finger and moved right into the cabin I’d built exactly the way I wanted where I could be my own man.

A place off the grid. A place where no one asked questions, no one had expectations of you. You could live your lif

e in private, in peace.

And now Violet’s TV network was considering filming a reality show in my town. Why in the hell would they want to do that? There was nothing going on here. That was why I liked it. And yet, she was in Watson to do exactly that. And much to my surprise I could see things starting to fall into place. They were recruiting people, seizing on storylines. Some residents were against it like me, but most seemed all for it.

Like that rat of a fire warden, Tom. He’d fucked anything that moved within a 50-mile radius. He sure as hell wanted to add Violet to that list.

With a swear, I set down my sandpaper. I wasn’t going to get any work done today. Might as well head into town and check on the store. I’d gotten an email inquiry about a piece showing there. I didn’t know if it had already sold or not. I knew I needed a better system, some way to inventory and track my pieces and catalogue my sales. But all that seemed like a constraint. I’d put that off as long as I could.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I washed up and changed my shirt. Like I was getting ready for a date. What, did I hope little Miss L.A. would swing by? I should be growing back my beard, keeping things wild and wooly, maybe adding a big Off Limits sign across my chest while I was at it.

I should be doing more to run her out of town on a rail. We had a town hall meeting set up in a week. I should be rounding up the troops, not helping her out when Old Fred started in on her. But I didn’t like seeing her harassed. And mostly I wondered, was she going to be in town the whole time before the town hall? Because that would be a long week to manage with my hand in the shower.

§

“Wow, that’s so beautiful.”

I recognized her voice the second I heard it. With the population of Watson topping out just over 1700, the odds of running into Violet were too damn high.

She stood in our store, admiring Benny’s glasswork. Benny was mid-40s and happily married and I still didn’t like her admiring his glasswork. I skulked around in back. I could stay there. She’d never even have to know I was around today.

Tags: Callie Harper Beg For It Erotic
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