The Paternity Pact (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 3)
“Of course.”
Harley kept a reassuring smile on her face as Grant scooped up Daniel and carried him off to bed. To keep herself busy until his return, Harley moved the empty popcorn bowl and glasses to the kitchen. She handwashed everything, returned each item to its proper place and wiped down the already pristine countertops. Half an hour later, Grant found her perched on the stool in the dimly lit kitchen, her purse over her shoulder, keys in her hand, all too aware that if she didn’t make a hasty exit, she ran the risk of doing something she might regret.
“How’d it go?” she asked, slipping off the stool as Grant drew near. “Did he give you any trouble?”
“Not a bit. In fact, he was asleep when I left.”
“I’m glad.” Her heart began to pound at the intent look on Grant’s face. “I guess I’d better get going, then.”
“Or you could stay a while and keep me company.”
“I’m sure you have things to do.” She considered protesting as he stripped her of purse and keys, but then he ran his knuckles over her cheek and the soft caress set her hormones to humming.
“So, that convincing we talked about last week,” Grant murmured. “I’m ready to get started.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, determined to utter something sensible and levelheaded that would stop them both cold, but then she made the mistake of meeting his gaze. One glimpse of his ravenous need and her mind froze.
In the split-second window between one heartbeat and another, something hot and raw exploded in her. Harley snatched a handful of his shirt, ready to tear the damned thing off him if necessary.
“I really don’t need any convincing,” she whispered, driven by fear and wanton hunger. “I need you. Don’t make me beg.”
While it would’ve been easier for her to step into his space and press herself against him, with her blood running hot and wild, she yanked him toward her. Their bodies collided with incendiary results.
“Harley,” Grant groaned, his husky voice driving her pulse to reckless speeds. He tangled one hand in her hair and searched her expression with feverish intensity. “I’ve been dying to do this all week.”
An instant later, he slid his hand to the small of her back and pulled her hips tight against his. His mouth landed on hers in a frenzy of ha
rd ardent kisses that set fire to her dignity. Propriety be damned. She didn’t care what he thought of her in this moment or how he might spin this later. His lips were on hers and the most important thing in this moment was the rightness of his tongue sweeping around hers in a sexy dance of desire.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tunneled her fingers into his hair, pressing her breasts against his strong, solid chest. Everywhere they touched, she burned, but she craved the mesmerizing friction of his skin against hers. The smooth and rough texture of his naked thigh as she slid her legs around him. The satiny glide of his abs against her belly as he thrust into her.
The pleasure washing through her swept away old heartbreak. She snatched a fistful of his shirt again and yanked until the hem cleared the waistband of his pants. A purr rumbled in her throat as her hand slid into the gap between the fabrics and encountered his hot skin. She swept her palm over his side, fingertips riding the waves of his ribs to the hard lines of his chest. Beneath her questing caress, his nipple hardened and both of them groaned in appreciation.
Grant tugged at her hair, coaxing her to change the angle of her head. His lips skimmed along her neck, trailing fiery kisses. She quaked at the nip of his even white teeth, her hips bucking into his. He lightly palmed her breast through her thin blouse, finger tracing the top edge of her lace bra through the material. His teasing provoked a husky protest from her throat, but then her complaint turned to encouragement as he applied more pressure. Her nipples contracted as pleasure washed through her and she arched her back to drive her hips into the hard ridge below his belt. The ache thrumming between her thighs grew more impatient with each passing second. And as the primal need to meld with him dominated her, she was moments away from wrestling him to the floor and mounting him.
Harley gasped as he sucked on the place where her shoulder met her neck. Her breath caught one second, and gusted it out in the next as he rolled her nipple between his fingertips and pinched lightly. His mouth settled back on hers again as every nerve in her body screamed in ever-escalating delight.
They made their way down the hall, Grant walking backward, his fingers hooked over her hip while she made short work of his shirt buttons. By the time they reached the open door of the master bedroom, she was ready to slide the shirt off his shoulders and spread her hands over his gorgeous rock-hard abs. Determined not to be interrupted, she snagged her foot around the door and nudged it shut.
As the latch engaged, Grant stepped forward and backed her against the panel. From the fierce expression on his face, she expected his demanding, urgent kisses to begin again. Instead, he set one hand above her shoulder and grazed his knuckles across her cheek, plumbing her expression like a man desperate for answers.
No other man had ever been able to melt her with just one look. She ran the tips of her fingers down his chest, exploring the dips and ridges of solid muscle. His nostrils flared as he held himself still beneath her touch, but his breath grew more ragged as her investigation took her lower. Nevertheless, he remained immobile while she settled her lips into the hollow of his throat, flicking her tongue over his hot skin. The scent of him intoxicated her. She grazed her nail over one tight nipple and a harsh sound broke from his chest.
Knowing exactly what she wanted, Harley found the buckle of his belt and began fumbling to unfasten it. Before she finished, Grant slid his hands to the back of her thighs behind her knees and lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around him, moaning as the hard swell of his erection pressed between her thighs.
She wriggled her hips in an effort to intensify the contact, craving the all-consuming bliss of being possessed by him, the delicious fullness as he slid inside her. With her clinging to him, Grant pushed away from the door and walked her to his bed. Their kiss broke as he bent and laid her down. As much as she wanted to shed their clothes, part of her was fearful of what would happen if he escaped her arms and so she maintained her tight grip. Grant lowered his weight onto her, pressing her into the mattress. Her hips rocked, frustration and pleasure building at the warm, wet skate of his mouth over her collarbone and down between her breasts.
Half a decade had passed since the two days and nights they’d spent together, but their bodies were as attuned in this moment as if they had spent the last five years in the same passionate dance.
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her top, shifting the fabric upward, baring her lacy bra to his gaze. Eager for what was to come, Harley shimmied beneath him. Desire flared hot, and then hotter still. Her skin flushed and dampened until she was uncomfortable within the confines of her clothes.
Pinned as she was beneath his hard body, she lacked the leverage to strip away the clothing that prevented their skin from making contact. She dove questing fingers beneath his shirt to the warm silk of his skin. Powerful muscle shifted beneath her palm as she pressed him closer. She savored the crush of his hard body as he shifted her bra and released her tight nipple. He murmured something unintelligible before sucking the tender bud between his lips. The tug of his mouth on her breast sent a shot of pure lust straight to her groin. Heat pooled in her belly and she rubbed her thighs together as an insistent ache built to the point of pain.
Recognizing her sharp need, he sent his hand riding along her thigh, spreading her wide and trailing his fingers between her legs. She cursed the fabric barrier that blocked him from touching her bare flesh even as her lips parted to beg him to stop the torment. But the glide of his mouth over sensitive spots on her throat and beneath her ear left her little breath for words.
In the end, it was Grant who stripped them both bare. First her with gentle, trembling fingers that tugged and slid and, in the case of her underwear, tore everything off her before shedding his own clothes, fetching a condom out of the nightstand, and then with an obvious effort of will, stood beside the bed and let his gaze trail over her naked form.
She let him drink his fill for the span of time it took to devour his broad shoulders, sculpted chest, washboard abs, narrow hips and powerful thighs all breathtakingly defined by ropy muscle beneath bronze skin. Harley lifted her foot and trailed it up the side of his thigh. A dusting of fine black hair tickled her skin, making her smile. She held her arms out to him, coaxing him to her with a welcoming smile.