Letting Off Steam

Letting Off Steam Isabelle Drake After rugged loner Harrison Denton spends a night in Carly Jameson‟s barn, she realizes she‟s missed an opportunity to have a no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached roll in the hay. But after years of holding back and letting the opinions of other people control her actions, it will take a determined and capable man to bring the wild out in Carly. Luckily for her, the rough-and-ready man who has just come into her life has what it takes. When the two of them come together, Harrison is forced to face facts—sex with Carly is more than a one-time opportunity to let off some steam. It‟s a very personal challenge that just may loosen the grief holding his heart hostage.

Ellora‟s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Letting Off Steam ISBN 9781419935206 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Letting Off Steam Copyright © 2011 Isabelle Drake Edited by Helen Woodall Cover art by Syneca Electronic book publication August 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher‟s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author‟s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors‟ imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

LETTING OFF STEAM

Isabelle Drake

Dedication For Carol, my storyteller friend, in celebration of our successes. PMC, Solstice, 2011.

Acknowledgement With a shout out to my other fellow PMC Solstice 2011 graduates: Laura Elizabeth, Rick and Seth, who have learned if I tell them I stole a keg and got drunk with a bunch of rock stars—it‟s probably true. Thanks for the inspiration; this story wouldn‟t have happened without you.

Isabelle Drake

Chapter One “Yes, I‟m wearing the shirt. I put it on and I‟m calling you, just like the note in the package asked.” Carly Jameson pinched the hem of the baby-blue t-shirt, trying to pull it over the exposed patch of skin above the waist of her favorite jeans. Pale white skin that hadn‟t seen the sun, or any other kind of heat, in a long time. “Tell me what it looks like.” Carly frowned. How could a nineteen-year-old woman sound so bossy and insistent? But then Carly wasn‟t wondering about just any young woman, she was thinking about her own hard-headed daughter, Jasmine. She looked down at the shirt and shrugged. “It looks like a t-shirt.” “Have you even seen yourself in it?” There was a beat of silence and then, “Where are you standing?” Carly watched an early autumn leaf skip across the backyard of her small, central Ohio farm, spinning until it ran into the side of the toolshed. There was no point in not replying, Jasmine would just keep after her until she got what she wanted. “In the kitchen.” “Go to the hall,” Jasmine said, her tone even more stern than before. “Stand in front of the mirror and tell me what you see.” “Fine.” Carly took the last sip of her after-dinner tea, set the mug in the sink, and stepped into the long hall that started at the doorway to the kitchen, ran between the living room on one side and the dining room on the other, and ended at the foyer. When Jasmine had been little she‟d made Carly—and Carly‟s parents—crazy by running through the house, leaving both the front and back doors open as she raced around the farm. Now it was just Carly in the house, and she almost longed for the chaos of those long-gone days.

6

Letting Off Steam

Almost. But Carly remembered how tough it had been, and she was glad to have the past behind her. And far enough behind her where it couldn‟t cause her grief. With Jasmine off at Ohio State University, safe and sound and about to kick ass like always, the mistakes of Carly‟s past could never come back to haunt her ever again. All Carly had to do was play by the rules and everything would be fine. “Okay,” Carly said, squaring herself in front of the wide mirror that hung to the left of the front door. “I‟m looking in the mirror.” Jasmine giggled. “I bet your boobs look awesome.” The t-shirt was a size smaller than Carly usually bought and the fitted style was so tight it hugged the sides of her breasts. She tossed back some strands of her strawberryblonde hair. “I don‟t know about awesome, but, well, they are…obvious.” “Mom, shut up. You have great boobs. Even better than mine.” Carly took another look. One thing was for sure, nobody was not going to notice either her well-rounded breasts or the sparkly black wording stretching across them— Cougar on the Prowl. Jasmine‟s voice snapped out of the phone. “Now that you know how great it looks, you have to wear it next time you go into town.” Carly‟s reply was instant. “Um. No.” She tugged on the hem, trying again to cover the exposed skin of her stomach. The hem bounced back up the second she let go. Make that hell no, I am not wearing this in public. “You have to wear it, Mom. Seriously. You need to have some fun. If you don‟t wear it how are men going to know you want to hook up? I know you‟ll never tell them, that would be too—too—” “Desperate? Stupid?” Carly turned, looking at her ass over her shoulder. “Shut up.” Jasmine wasn‟t about to let it go. “There‟s nothing desperate or stupid about hooking up. It‟s just for fun.” Carly stopped looking at her butt as a thread of panic wove up her spine.

7

Isabelle Drake

She‟d thought that way once, too, and she remembered all too well where it got her. “Since when do you know so much about hooking up?” she asked, thinking maybe she should‟ve told her daughter the whole story about what‟d happened after she found out she was pregnant with her. “I know what you need to know—you only live once you can‟t just work all day. You‟ve got to have fun. It‟s time for you to stop thinking about other people and go be crazy for once.” “Jasmine—” “Mom, I know what you‟re thinking but don‟t worry about me. I‟ve got enough to deal with all these classes and—did I tell you? I got the job at the bookstore. So, I‟m busy, busy. But you, you have time to spare.” Carly started to turn away from her reflection but caught the glitter in the lettering and paused, considering for the first time in a long, long time the tight lines of her stomach and the pretty fullness of her breasts. Okay, the shirt did have a sexy, playful appeal but that didn‟t mean Carly wanted any part of playful sex. Or any kind of sex. “I have fun,” she replied, finally pulling her gaze from her long-neglected body. “Right. Sure. Tell me one fun thing you‟ve done in the last week.” “I‟m having fun right now.” It wasn‟t a complete lie. Talking to her daughter was one of her absolute favorite ways to spend her time. Jasmine‟s sigh was so loud it nearly made the phone vibrate. “I love you too, but you know that‟s not the kind of fun I‟m talking about. Did you look in the bottom of the box, by the way?” “There‟s more?” Half dreading the answer, she headed to the kitchen. Under the tissue from the shirt was a familiar black box with gold lettering. “You don‟t think it‟s a little weird, buying your mom condoms?” “No. It‟s sensible. Put one in your purse.” Carly looked at the box in her hands. “You aren‟t serious.”

8

Letting Off Steam

“Of course I am. Remember all those things you told me?” As a tribute to her daughter‟s smart thinking—not because she planned to use it— Carly took one condom out of the box, walked down the hall, and dropped it into her purse. Then she started looking at her ass again. Not bad for forty-two. But she wasn‟t about to change her mind, she knew what was best for herself. “I don‟t care about that kind of fun,” she said, hearing the tiny bit of regret in her voice. “Yes, you do,” Jasmine replied, softer, urging. “It‟s just been so long you‟ve forgotten.” “There‟s more to life than sex, Jasmine,” she said, wincing at the threat in her voice. She had no reason to think Jasmine would make the careless choices she had, but as a mother it was impossible not to worry. “Of course there is. But you have to have a whole life, Mom. Not just part of one. And besides,” Jasmine paused, “You promised that after I left for school you‟d devote time to yourself.” She started pacing the hallway, reaching the kitchen door with quick, stiff strides, turning on her bare feet and heading back toward the front door. “I‟ve been meditating for an extra half hour every morning and getting a new flowerbed prepped for next spring.” Even to Carly that sounded dull. And solitary. “Mom, here‟s the deal. If you don‟t send me a picture of you wearing that shirt out I will come home, stuff you into it, and drag you down to Kenny‟s at happy hour. And I will leave you there. Alone. Until something happens.” Despite the frustration churning through her, Carly laughed. She wouldn‟t last an hour at Kenny‟s in a tight t-shirt. In that shirt, maybe ten minutes tops. “I get the point, but I‟m not making any promises.” A single low thump came from the other side of the front door. Carly turned, listening for a knock but heard nothing more. Wind?

9

Isabelle Drake

Jasmine charged ahead with her commands. “I‟m calling back in a week for a report, and I want to hear about some action. Real action, not a bunch of boring stuff about meditation and flower gardens.” The thumping came again but louder and with more force, making the door rattle. Carly watched the door shake. “Fine. Call in a week.” She could always make something up. “I will, and I expect something worth talking about,” Jasmine said, her voice reflecting the persistence of a young woman who had yet to learn how personal failures could fill a person with regret so heavy that just the thought of making another mistake was devastating. “You‟ll get what you‟ll get,” Carly replied, using a more experienced version of Jasmine‟s tone, as she moved toward the front door. “Love you, Mom.” “Love you too, Jasmine.” Carly clicked off her phone and checked the time. Almost eight. Whoever was on the other side wasn‟t at the farm on business, and if it was a friend, they would‟ve gone to the back door. She slipped the phone into her back pocket. “Carly Jameson here,” she yelled at the door. “What do you want?” “Carly?” It was a man‟s voice, loud, rough. “That‟s me,” she said, reaching for the doorknob as she asked, “What do you want?” “You, Carly. I want you.” He sounded a little strange. An impossible mix of insistence and confusion. Someone selling something? “Open the door, Carly Jameson,” the man called, his voice low and deep but also wobbly and singsong. Okay, not just a little strange.

10

Letting Off Steam

Carly was used to being alone, so she knew to be careful about who she opened the door for. But whoever was on the other side didn‟t sound together enough to do any damage to her. Decision made, she turned the knob and opened the door. It was a good thing Carly never waited for a knight in shining armor to arrive on her doorstep and sweep her off her feet. Because the man on her doorstep, the first man to show up calling for her in years, was weaving and reeking of whiskey. “Carly Jameson,” he slurred, reaching out for the doorjamb but almost grabbing her waist instead. Once his hand settled on the doorframe, his fingers gripping the wood with desperation, he did his best to straighten up and look at her face. Even bloodshot and unfocused his eyes demanded attention. Bright blue with long lashes and a fierce intensity that not even drunkenness could hide. He stared at Carly for several long seconds, giving her body enough time to remember what it felt like to be looked at by a man. Really looked at. Dormant hormones suddenly pounded through her veins, heating her blood with a thick flash of lust. Damn. She braced against the very hot, very liquid want seeping through her body. She did not need this. Get calm, she told herself. Breathe. Easy. In through the nose and out through the mouth. She sucked in a shaky breath, making her chest rise suddenly. His blue gaze dropped to her breasts, he blinked, squinted, and a grin split across his mouth. “Nice shirt,” he mumbled, staring unapologetically at her breasts clearly outlined by the shirt and perfectly shadowed by the slant of the almost-set sun. Carly‟s nipples tightened. She crossed her arms to cover the very noticeable peaks. “I— Do you…” His gaze crept down to her stomach, and he swayed, drunkenly leering at the bare skin exposed above her jeans, then finally murmuring, “Your skin looks soft. Very

11

Isabelle Drake

pretty.” He leaned in and raised his free hand, looking like he wanted to stroke her stomach, but the tiny sober part of himself must have made him reconsider because he rolled back. Carly swayed toward him, the motion involuntary and filled with a hunger she was only beginning to realize was still part of her. Silence swirled between them, drawing her to him, making her want something she knew he could deliver. He kept staring at her bare skin. She dropped her arms and wrapped them protectively around her waist. But it wasn‟t him she needed protection from, it was herself. That crazy, impulsive side of herself that did first and thought later. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pushing the pants lower, revealing the sharp angle of his hipbone. Carly braced, stiffening against the hot lust swirling inside her. “Is there a specific reason you came to me—my house?” Instead of answering right away, which would have been the polite and reasonable thing to do, he swayed in her doorway, obviously and unashamedly leering at her. “I‟m sure there is,” he slurred, “But damn if I can remember it right now.” Against her better judgment, Carly leered back. A black leather jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, so loosely that it looked as though he‟d lost weight recently. But if that was the case, he must have been massive before. Rough and ready were the two best words to describe him. Or rather they would‟ve been if he wasn‟t reeling from too much whiskey and too little sense. Under the scruffy brown stubble his face was probably handsome, but it wasn‟t his looks that were drawing Carly. It was the unleashed power, coiled deep inside him, looking for release. She sensed it in him because it was also inside her. Only she hadn‟t known it until just then.

12

Letting Off Steam

If he noticed her leering he didn‟t care. Either that or she was so out of practice that her staring had no impact. If that was the case, maybe Jasmine was right. Carly pressed her lips together, remembering a time when her leer could get her damn near anything she wanted. Suddenly, the man jerked back and pulled a tattered wad of paper from his jacket pocket. Mumbling to himself, he started unfolding it. Or tried to anyway. “This knows why I‟m here,” he slurred, the puffs of his breath forming an alcohollaced cloud. He tried again, “I mean. I know why this is here.” Using sharp, jerky swipes he flattened the paper, then looked up and tried speaking. “This is what I know, I‟m here.” Carly smirked. At least that made sense. She took a look at the paper. It was a map, and on it her house was an arrow. She angled to the side, looking around his shoulder to the driveway. No car, truck, or any sign of a car or truck. Good thing, considering his weaving, stumbling state. “How did you get here, by the way?” “Got a ride. Samuel,” he replied, stretching the name out like a piece of gum. “Met him in—at—at…Kenny‟s. Nice guy. Great guy. Knew you. Knows you.” The real world, the one that consistently kept Carly in her place, resurfaced and those hot, lusty flames cooled. She only knew one Samuel—Sam Maloy, Zack Maloy‟s big brother. Sam knew Carly because Zack was Jasmine‟s father. Correction—Zack was the man who got Carly pregnant then ditched her when she when she told him he was going to be a daddy. Sam Maloy was one of the first people to laugh in Carly‟s face when Zack left town—leaving her alone and without any promise to return in the near future. Sam‟s chuckles were followed by more mocking laughter from pretty much everyone in the whole town. Everyone except Carly‟s mom who cried for a couple days, and her dad who said absolutely nothing.

13

Isabelle Drake

“So you‟re a friend of Sam‟s?” she asked, bracing against the flood of memories. “Nope.” He took another swipe at the paper, running his index finger around the tattered edges. “Not friends, no friends.” For a long minute he stood, breathing out whiskey-tainted puffs of air and staring at the paper, muttering about friends. Or maybe it was about not having friends. Carly couldn‟t quite tell. “Okay, whatever. Why are you at my house?” “Zack.” Even after all the years, Carly‟s stomach still tensed when she heard his name. The waves of hurt, anger, and embarrassment were no longer a shock, she expected the roll of emotion, but expecting didn‟t make it easier to deal with. And because he‟d died in a motorcycle accident, she‟d never have a chance to resolve any of it. She pulled in a deep breath and straightened her back. “Zack?” He nodded, his gaze dropping to her breasts again and then roaming hungrily across her body, taking in each curve with slow, obvious appreciation. His mouth twitched into a half smile, half snarl. Carly couldn‟t take her gaze from his face, anger and lust simmering together inside her. She took in a deep breath, aiming for calm, but it didn‟t work. “Zack sent you here? It took you long enough to get here. He died three months ago.” The man lifted his head, their gazes connected, and Carly saw something she wasn‟t expecting—vulnerability. She must‟ve looked that same way the first few years of Jasmine‟s life, the years while she got used to being the trashy girl who‟d gotten dumped by the town‟s wannabe punk rock star. But just because she connected to something in him didn‟t mean she had to listen to what he had to say—especially if it had anything to do with Zack Maloy. Carly stepped farther away from him, and reached for the opposite side of the doorframe. “Why don‟t you just get going? Go find wherever it is that you‟re really trying to get to because it can‟t be here.” 14

Letting Off Steam

He looked at her with his forlorn blue eyes, his gaze a sharp contrast with the coiled strength in his body, and pointed to the ground. “Here‟s where I‟m trying to get to.” The pain of her past continued to mingle with the sexual awareness he‟d ignited, making Carly‟s heart thump heavily. She swallowed, fighting to hang on to the protective wall she‟d built around her emotions. “You can‟t stay here,” she said. Instead of responding, he dropped his intense gaze to the bare strip of skin. Carly‟s nipples peaked tighter. Heat pulsed to her core. “Zack Maloy is a really, real idiot,” he mumbled, not taking his gaze from Carly‟s body. No kidding. And that was why Carly didn‟t want to have anything to do with Zack or anyone connected to him. “Look,” she said, ignoring the slick heat in her pussy, “it‟s been great talking to you, but you have to get going. Go back to wherever it is that you came from.” He didn‟t say anything. He just stood there staring with sad, bloodshot eyes. She swallowed her anger. “You do have somewhere to go, right?” Holding the map to the side of the house, he shook his head. The guy was hooked up with Zack, what else could she expect? Trying to get more information out of him, like who to call, was going to be impossible. He was barely managing to hold himself upright. Still standing in the doorway, she pointed across the yard to the barn. “See that barn over there?” When he didn‟t move, she set her hands on his shoulders and spun him to the right, guiding him forward a few steps so he could see the edge of the side yard. He swayed, leaning heavily against her. Her traitorous body flared hotter, her ever-vigilant mind shouted a warning—get away from him—but she had no choice, not really. She

15

Isabelle Drake

couldn‟t slam the door in his face. It wouldn‟t be decent. He could sleep the whiskey off in the barn and get out of her life in the morning. “See the barn?” she asked, giving in and letting herself take in a long whiff of musky male skin and leather. He swayed, awkwardly wadding the map up with both hands then shoving the ball of paper into his jacket pocket. “I see it. Nice. I like the color.” That was a surprise. “Everyone hates that blue,” Carly said, remembering the flack she‟d gotten for not going with the traditional barn red. Even Jasmine had told her it was plain weird to paint a barn cornflower blue. He turned, his face somehow managing to be serious despite his drunkenness. For a second she thought he was actually going to say something rational, but what came out was, “Everyone doesn‟t know everything.” He stumbled forward, “Know what I mean?” He did have a point. “Maybe I do.” She dropped her hands from his shoulders and stood beside him. “Come on, let‟s get you to the barn, then I‟ll go back for blankets.” “I don‟t have to sleep in the barn, you know,” he slurred, casting her a sexy, sideways glance that made her pussy hotter. Damn, if she could get all that simmering anger unleashed, he‟d probably pound into her all night. Hard enough to shatter some of her own regrets. Maybe a night of mindless sex was what she needed. She matched his sideways glance with one of her own. But he was about five minutes from passing out. And, worst still, he was linked to Zack. “You lookin‟ at me?” he asked, reaching for her chin but missing. His hand brushed the side of her breast, and she pulled in a sharp breath. “No, I wasn‟t looking at you” she lied. “Just making sure you don‟t collapse right here in the yard.”

16

Letting Off Steam

“I wish you were looking at me. „Cause if you were, lookin‟ at me like that, I‟d know you wanted me to fuck you as bad as I want me to fuck you.” Carly very intentionally focused on the barn, staring at the wide double doors. The man lumbered along beside her, his lean body bumping against her. Each time he brushed against her she cringed, fighting the getting-more-desperate-by-the-second urge to bump back. “Know what I‟d like. You sittin‟ on top of me, your pretty breasts right in my face. My dick‟s hard just thinking „bout it.” He stopped short and looked at her, his gaze a mix of need and lust. “You sure?” Carly swayed toward him, pulled by a mixture of things she didn‟t recognize. But she was smart enough to know that whatever was buried deep within him was something she couldn‟t control. This man was trouble. In more than ways than one. Sending him to the barn was absolutely the right thing to do. The only thing to do. In the morning, he‟d be gone. Then she could concentrate on her extra half hour of meditation and her new flower garden preparations. Because that was what she really wanted. Not a night of unforgettable sex. They took a few more awkward steps, him bumping into her and her trying not to notice. But she noticed. Each brush of his arm sent a new wash of heat through her limbs. Meditation and flower garden designs. Think about that. Okay, maybe her daughter was right. Maybe she did need to get out some. Not hook up, but spend more time with her friends. Friends. That sounded nice. And easy. And hanging out with her friends wouldn‟t get everyone in town talking about her again. She‟d call Leena Talbot, her best friend from high school. How long had it been

17

Isabelle Drake

since they‟d hung out? A couple months? Longer than that. It was before the news of Zack‟s accident. They reached the barn and Carly set her hand on the door handle and paused. “What‟s your name, by the way?” Somehow he managed to pull himself up to his full height, which was about three inches higher than Carly‟s five foot ten inches. He flashed a crooked smile. “Harrison.” Carly shoved the door open and flicked on the inside light. “Go on in, Harrison. Find a spot that looks good, I‟ll be back in a minute.” He glanced inside, then moved back to her, his eyes looking deeply into hers. “Since you‟re sure the place for me is here, in this blue barn—alone—I‟ll say thankyouverymuch and find a place to drop my drunken self.” After a few seconds more, he stumbled through the door, swerving across the dirt floor until stopping in a corner stacked with peat moss for the garden. He hit the stacks with a heavy thump, rolling into a black leather tangle of arms and legs. Carly stared. And those flames deep inside her core flickered, flared, and grew hotter. His jacket had twisted as he‟d gone down, the hard curve of his back exposed, the muscles looking solid and strong even in drunken sleep. Instead of moving away, like she should have, she stood, nearly rooted to the dirt floor, taking in the long lines of his legs, the wiry strength in his torso. She should get him a blanket. Something to cover those lean muscles, those long powerful legs, and those broad shoulders. She needed to go back inside, find the old quilt she kept around for picnics, and use it to cover him up. But her legs, because they were part of her body which had suddenly started acting on its own, didn‟t take that first step away.

18

Letting Off Steam

Covering him up would block him from her view, but it wasn‟t going to do anything for that untapped simmering now flooding through in her veins. Carly took a deep calming breath and yanked herself away from the sexy tangle heaped on the floor of her barn, spun on her heels and marched toward her house. For the quilt. She‟d throw it across his body—without looking at him—then go to bed and dream about flowers, and work, and whether or not she should have painted the barn red instead of blue. Those were all safe, comfortable, reasonable things. Good things, things that couldn‟t hurt her or fill her with regrets.

19

Isabelle Drake

Chapter Two The fresh, bright rays of sunshine were probably a welcome sight to everyone they touched—everyone except Harrison Denton. But as it was those cheerful rays were piercing his closed eyelids, and he knew the second he opened them the pain in his skull would go from throbbing to pounding. He knew this because he‟d had too much experience with hangovers in the past couple of months. He also knew the pain might swell through his head and crawl down his spine, find his gut and turn itself into a firestorm of twisting, turning fury, the end result being him heaving up whatever few things he‟d managed to eat in the last twelve hours. He didn‟t remember eating anything once he‟d opened that bottle, but that didn‟t mean he hadn‟t. Sometimes, when he forgot about the sorry mess his life had become, he managed to fool himself into thinking everything was okay long enough to eat a sandwich or bag of chips. Since it took several swigs to get his mind hazy enough to forget the only food he ate was after drinking, consequently, the food didn‟t stay with him for long. But he couldn‟t just lie there all day. So he took a chance and, with his lids still closed, moved his arm, dropping his forearm over his eyes. He braced himself for the swirls in his gut but apparently he hadn‟t eaten anything because his stomach didn‟t churn all that much. Only enough to remind him it was there. His head, on the other hand, was throbbing so badly the sides of his face felt numb. He really, really had to stop messing with whiskey. No matter how much he thought he was the bigger man, the whiskey always got the last swing. And that last swing was always a knockout punch.

20

Letting Off Steam

At least the throb of his head and the churn in his gut chased away the grief and regret that followed him no matter how far he ran. No matter how lost he tried to get himself, that memory tracked him down, reminded him of what he‟d done, or hadn‟t done in this case. “Coffee?” The voice came from the direction of the sunshine. Harrison shifted toward the door but couldn‟t work up the determination to move his arm from his forehead. The soft thud of footsteps came from the same direction. “You‟re going to have to sit up eventually,” the voice said. Pieces of the night flipped through his mind, the end result him being sure that the voice belonged to the woman who owned the farm, Carly. His cock stirred as he remembered the press of her soft body against his as she took him from the porch to the barn. Thinking back now, it was probably a good thing he was so completely drunk because if he‟d had even a shred of a chance at convincing her to take him upstairs to her bed he would‟ve told her in very exact words what he wanted to do to her. He‟d definitely been thinking them, in surprisingly clear, vivid detail. Shit. “Did I say those things I think I said last night?” She laughed, the sound like warm honey, chasing away some of his weariness. But the laughter was also guarded, letting him know there wasn‟t an invitation. “Maybe I should apologize,” he mumbled. He had so few virtues left, telling the truth being one of them, that he was reluctant to let that one go with the others he‟d cast aside in the past months. Slowly, he moved his forearm up, prying his eyes open to see if she looked as pretty in the daylight. The tiny t-shirt was gone. Too bad, from what he remembered he liked that shirt. The boxy one in its place might have been her attempt to hide those curves

21

Isabelle Drake

he‟d been staring at, but it wasn‟t really working. She was a delicious mix of sweetness and sex, strength and softness, and no oversized shirt was going to hide that. She took a step forward, holding out a battered Ohio State University travel mug. The scent of fresh coffee drifted toward him. “Here,” she said, coming close enough for him to smell her scent too. Lemon, maybe, or some other moist, firm citrus fruit. His mouth watered, and his dick got harder, filling out the crotch of his jeans. He forced himself upright and accepted the mug, took a sip. She‟d taste better than the coffee, but unlike last night now he had the sense to keep his X-rated thoughts to himself. From what Zack said Carly Jameson wasn‟t the quickie type, and Harrison was in no shape for anything but a short-term fling. Very short. Like a few hours, tops. The coffee rolled down his throat, chasing away some of the bitterness of the night before—the bitter part being what came before she‟d opened her door. He looked up and noticed her gaze settled on his bulge between his legs. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, taking a sip and not bothering to try to hide his arousal. Their gazes connected just as he was about to take another drink. He hadn‟t imagined that electricity snapping between them last night. Right there in the barn, with the fresh sky behind her, Harrison started thinking about fast, hard sex all over again. Either that or he‟d never really stopped. “Glad you‟re awake,” she said, taking a sip of her own coffee. Maybe he‟d misunderstood her, and she had something quick and hard in mind after all. “Really?” he asked, already conflicted about her answer. Two or three hours wouldn‟t be nearly enough with a woman like her. “Do you need to use my phone to call for a ride?” Wrong again, Harrison.

22

Letting Off Steam

But he was actually glad. For one thing, he wanted to know that his judgment of women was still there. But more importantly, he needed to stick to the plan, not try to find ways to avoid pain and thinking about the past. “I did come here for a reason. I have something to tell you.” The sweetness fell away from her face, and her shoulders stiffened. “If it has anything to do with Zack Maloy I don‟t want to hear it.” Zack had told him that she pretty much hated him, so he wasn‟t surprised at her reaction. Harrison fell back on an old trick, offering the slanted smile that usually worked on women. “Just a few minutes, no big deal.” It didn‟t work. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She backed away from him, turning as she headed out the door. “I‟m going to go find Sam‟s number, call him and tell him to come get you.” She was out the door and heading across the lawn. He‟d seen that walk before and knew that chasing after her would be a bad idea. Better to let her simmer down. Shit. He‟d given his word to Zack that he‟d talk to Carly, easy or not. He wasn‟t leaving before he‟d done what he came to do. But how to get her to listen, that was obviously going to be the problem. Harrison took a sip of coffee, taking a look around the barn for the first time. Tools hanging on the wall, wheelbarrows lined up by coiled garden hoses, the usual things. Except in the far corner, sticking out from under a tarp was what appeared to be the fender of a vintage International Harvester tractor. He blinked, forcing his eyes to focus. A 1940s model if he was guessing right. Forgetting his aching head and queasy stomach, he got to his feet and staggered over for a better look. The closer he got to the tractor, the more sure he became. By the time he touched the blue plastic tarp draped across it, his fingers were twitching. The dust-covered sheet slid off easily, rustling as it fell to the ground. 23

Isabelle Drake

Damn. Harrison set the mug next to the tarp and flattened his hands on the fender, gliding them over the neglected metal. Dust drifted up from the smudgy red paint, and he sneezed. From the looks of it, the tractor had been sitting a while. Years. Maybe even a lot of years. He circled it, his feet kicking the edges of the tarp as he looked at the front, looped around and stopped by the seat. The keys dangled from the ignition. Harrison didn‟t think twice. He climbed up and fingered the key chain—a yellow tin tag from Chuck‟s Chicken Shack. Good chance that Chuck‟s was long gone, a piece of forgotten history like the awesome machine beneath him. Assuming it wouldn‟t start the engine, Harrison flipped the keys, filling in the silence by imagining the low rumble of the ignition. Leaving the keys in, he hopped down, circling back to the engine. Out of habit, he started checking the plugs, examining the hoses. His fingers moved across the parts, the familiar motion stirring a place inside him that hadn‟t been alive in years. “It doesn‟t run.” Carly snapped her cell phone shut as she moved away from the doorway, coming toward him with the directness he was beginning to recognize was part of her. Harrison dropped his hands from the dust-covered machine. “How long‟s it been sitting here?” She stopped beside him, her gaze skimming across the tractor as though she didn‟t really want to look at any one place for long. “A while.” “How long‟s a while?” “Don‟t you have a hangover to nurse?” she asked, stepping over the tarp and stopping on the other side. He watched her move, the sway of her hips and the gentle bounce of her breasts. “I‟m feeling better,” he said even though that wasn‟t quite true. Raw emotions stirred

24

Letting Off Steam

inside him and without the whiskey to drown them, they were too close to the surface of his thoughts. She reached out, running her finger through the dust on the fender, retracing where his fingers had been as she came back around. “I couldn‟t get a hold of Sam.” She was talking to him, but her attention lingered on the tractor, her gaze a mixture of longing and loss. Two emotions he‟d recently become very acquainted with and was now spending a lot of time trying to avoid. And if he wasn‟t able to avoid it, then he was seeking out a way to dull the pain.

Carly dropped her hand, wiping the smudge of dust on her jeans. If only she could wipe away other things that easily. Like the memories of her dad, driving the tractor with Jasmine on his lap as he rode her around. Then later, teaching her daughter to shift and steer. Later when her daughter could drive herself, watching Jazz get stuck in the mud, listening to her dad complain about the tire tracks in the yard for months. It seemed that lately those happy memories, instead of filling her with satisfaction made her melancholy and lonely. Wishing for a time when her life was predictable and her only focus was being Jasmine‟s mom. “It stopped working a couple of years before my parents moved to Florida. My mom covered it up, my dad kept saying he was going to get it running, but it just never happened.” Harrison nodded, his full lips flat, his gaze reaching inside her, and she could see something unresolved, lingering close to the surface. It was so close he was looking for a release, or at least a distraction. Her gaze skimmed over his lean body, lingering on his strong hands then going back to his face, and landing on his mouth. Maybe they were both looking for a distraction. She opened her mouth to say something about trying Sam‟s number again, but surprised herself by inviting Harrison up to the house for breakfast instead. “You might

25

Isabelle Drake

as well have something to eat,” she added, leaving the tractor behind as she headed for the door. She heard him come up behind her before he gently took her arm and spun her around. “I was thinking about something else for breakfast,” he said, moving close enough to brush his knee against her thigh. She could step away. But she didn‟t. He came closer. Carly‟s heart thumped, heating her blood and pushing it through her veins with sudden wild force. Heat skimmed over her skin, warming everything from the palms of her hands to the soles of her feet. Her pussy was the center of the flames. Harrison moved his leg against hers, sliding it between her thighs, putting pressure on her crotch. Her clit responded, even with the thick denim between them. A sharp spark shot up her center. Liquid heat made her breasts swell, and her nipples tighten. She sucked in a sharp breath, feeling her slickness moisten her panties. Sexual hunger that had been a distant memory was suddenly familiar and consuming. Her whole body was electrified, tense, and aching. Harrison set his hands on her shoulders, guiding her backward. Her shoulders hit the wall with a thud, her whole body shook, then settled against the solid surface. Chaotic vibrations rolled through her, making her legs so weak she welcomed the support of the wall. “You know what I don‟t understand?” he asked, leaning into her, pinning her to the rough wall. “What you‟re doing here by yourself.” “I‟m not alone,” Carly lied. “No?” he lifted an eyebrow. “If there was a man around, I‟m pretty sure he would‟ve already tossed me across the property line.” Harrison traced the side of her body with his gaze, letting her see him look at her. “I know that‟s what I would‟ve done—if I were him.” “I‟m fully capable of kicking you off my property. I don‟t need a man for that.”

26

Letting Off Steam

“But you need a man for something else,” he said, his voice a low growl as he lifted his gaze to stare at her nipples which were so tight that not even the baggy t-shirt could hide them. When he met her gaze again he was smiling. “No,” she said, her voice hushed. “I don‟t. I don‟t need a man for anything.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Then why are you on the prowl?” That damn shirt, causing trouble and she hadn‟t even left the house. “It was a gift.” That sexy, slanted grin came back. “Somebody got ideas for you? Think you need something?” “I don‟t need anything,” she replied, her damp panties making the lie obvious to her and her peaked nipples making the lie obvious to him. “So you just said. But I don‟t believe you.” He leaned in, moving his lips along her neck and touching her with his breath. “I don‟t think you know what you need.” Carly stiffened, trying to fight the tremors zigzagging through her body, but the shivers were too intense. “You‟re wrong about that.” “Says who?” She tipped her head away, “The only person who matters. Me.” He followed her motion, running his lips along the side of her neck. “Then why were you wearing the shirt?” “My daughter sent it to me.” She put emphasis on the word to scare him away—to remind him of Zack, but he didn‟t even flinch. “Remind me to thank her.” “Thank her for what?” she asked, although the answer was already clear in his eyes. “For this.” He dropped his mouth to hers, covering her lips completely. The kiss wasn‟t unexpected. Carly‟d known it was coming from the second she‟d locked gazes with him, but her response—that was something else. Without even considering other, self-protective options, Carly opened her mouth to him, welcoming the soft sweep of his tongue as she welcomed the hard press of his

27

Isabelle Drake

body. He didn‟t hesitate to take what he wanted, a complete and thorough exploration of her mouth, and he took it with long, delicate strokes, sweet sweeps of his tongue that said things words never could. Carly flattened her palms to his chest, knowing she could shove him away, but instead spreading her fingers and sliding her hands around his ribs and across his back. She could feel the heavy thump of his heart, matching the steady rhythm of her own, beating hard and fast, sending blood to her core, making her pussy even hotter and wetter. Sensing her desperate need, he rocked into her, thrusting his hips between her legs then drawing back and rocking against her again. And again. Her clit stiffened even more, and she angled her hips to get the firm pressure she needed. She groaned, the low moan taking the air from her lungs, making her even more dizzy and desperate. His kiss was relentless, all-consuming, and he matched the motion of his hips with his tongue and hands, making the rhythm of her body sync with his own. His possession of her was complete, despite the clothes separating them. Desperate for air, she pulled her mouth away, drawing in a deep breath. He moved his lips to her neck, making a trail of kisses up her throat, then running his tongue around the whorl of her ear. She shivered, the shimmy of her shoulders traveling down to her core, setting off another roll of pleasure that started deep and fanned out in fierce waves that tore through her with soul-stealing quickness. The muscles in her womb convulsed, and she spread her legs and arched her back, instinctively giving herself over to him. The spirals of relentless pleasure tapered off just as quickly as they started, leaving her clit stiff and her pussy wet and ready for more. Harrison held her to the wall, kissing her neck a few more times before lifting his mouth. “Next time, I‟ll do it right.” Carly struggled to clear her mind. She really was too old to lose control like that. “There doesn‟t need to be a next time.”

28

Letting Off Steam

He put his lips to her neck again, letting his warm breath caress her flushed, oversensitive skin before speaking again, his voice a soft growl. “Nobody said anything about needing.” But wanting, yes. Carly wanted. She moved her hands to his chest and this time, instead of caressing the hard plane of his muscles, she pressed against him. He went back willingly, stepping to the side. She stepped away, moving her shaky legs with quick strides, trying to get some strength back. He didn‟t make any attempt to stop her from walking away, so when he spoke his voice was distant. “I have an idea, a way we can both get what we want.” She turned around, glad for the space between them. The shock of what had just happened was bound to still be all over her face. He waited, sensing her dilemma, or maybe fighting one of his own. Finally he stepped toward the tarp, heaped on the ground beside the tractor. “You want that to run, right?” he asked, pointing to it. Carly stopped staring at him and eyed the tractor. She stared at it for several long seconds before her brain could work again. Having it run wouldn‟t make her life safe and predictable like it had been back then, but being able to use it would make it easier. She turned back around, away from dusty red metal. “Nobody has been able to fix it. Three people have tried.” “I can fix it,” he said. His reply wasn‟t arrogant, only certain. She shook her head, but she wasn‟t saying no to the possibility of him fixing it. She was saying no to that moist heat still throbbing in her pussy. “Here‟s the deal,” he said, still standing feet away but affecting her just as much as he had when he had her pinned to the wall. “After I get the tractor fixed, you‟ll listen to what I have to say—you‟ll listen to the message from Zack. And I mean listen, with an open mind.”

29

Isabelle Drake

Carly looked at the tractor, then at Harrison, then back to the tractor. If he stayed on he‟d be a constant temptation. One that she‟d give in to? Or resist? She didn‟t know the answer to that, but she knew she was going to agree to the deal. She could feel the answer, thrumming through her, a new unquenchable desire to see how things would turn out. But they‟d do this her way, on her terms. “If you get it fixed, I‟ll listen.” She crossed the barn, pointing to the tools stored in boxes and lined against the wall. “But you only have one day.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. “What if I need parts?” Why was she agreeing? For the tractor? Or for Harrison? “Two days, until Saturday night. But that‟s it. Deal?” “Deal.” Carly took a few steps away, then turned back to add, “And you stay here. In the barn.” “Sure, the barn seems to suit me fine.” Trying to ignore the waves of desire lingering in her core, she added, “By yourself.” But as soon as the words were out she wanted to snatch them back because they revealed exactly what was on her mind. Unfinished business. She spun away and stalked to the door, it was way past time to get out of there. “Never mind breakfast, I have to run errands.” She paused to call over her shoulder before she marched toward the house. “Go ahead and make a list of parts, I‟ll pick them up for you.”

30

Letting Off Steam

Chapter Three Harrison should probably feel bad about what he‟d done. That look of shock on Carly‟s face when she realized she‟d come, right there, fully dressed and in her very own barn. If he wasn‟t so completely turned-on by the idea he might have felt sorry for her. He crossed to the double doors and shoved one back. Thanks to Carly‟s sexy mouth and explosive body, the edges of his hangover had softened, making movement bearable. He put his palms on the other door and shoved. It rolled back with a heavy groan. Pieces of straw floated up from the ground, earthy dust, the scent of his teenage years, a calm between storms. Thick rays of morning sun streaked into the barn, filling it with heat and light. The coating of dust across the tractor was even thicker than he realized. He spotted a coil of hose outside, to the left, and headed for it. After a quick spray down, he‟d be able to see exactly what he‟d gotten himself into. A quick look over the engine, a list of parts, that was all he needed to get started. Started with the tractor anyway. After he looked it over, and made a list of parts, he‟d walk back to town and retrieve his truck parked behind Kenny‟s.

***** Twenty minutes into turning over the topsoil in the new flowerbed Carly planned to use to grow cutting flowers for the farmer‟s market, she was still reliving that scene in the barn. Unbelievable, the whole thing, from start to finish. If someone had told her a week ago that she‟d be exploding from the inside out while some near stranger pinned her to the wall of her barn she‟d have laughed in their face. But now, she

31

Isabelle Drake

couldn‟t stop thinking about it. Over and over. And wanting it. Over and over. All morning while running errands. And the few minutes she was near Harrison to drop off his box lunch and pick up the list of parts he needed made it even worse. So bad that she‟d gotten back in her truck and gone to town again, just to avoid being near him. Now, worn out from the hangover and the walk to town to get his truck, he was asleep on the heap of peat moss bags. She knew that because she‟d gone in to see if he wanted some coffee, or a snack, only to end up staring at him. Again. Carly threw the spade at the ground again, stepped on the top edge with her booted foot and pressed. The thick metal slid in, biting though the soil easily. The muscles in her thighs flexed, sending blood deep into her leg and heating up her pussy. That pulsing wasn‟t going away by itself. “Hey, I got your call. Thought I‟d just come over instead of calling back.” Sam Maloy. Carly didn‟t turn around. Instead, she tossed the soil over and stabbed the hard ground again. She stepped on the edge, forced it deeper into the ground. “You really didn‟t need to bother.” “Everything okay?” Gritting her teeth, Carly tossed another shovel of dirt, stabbed the ground again. Still silent, she dug and turned. “Did a guy come to talk to you last night? Harrison?” “What‟s it to you?” she asked, knowing she sounded immature but not being able to stop herself. “I brought him here,” he said, walking around the flowerbed to face her. “Like I said, what‟s it to you?” She finally looked at him. If Zack were still alive, that‟s what he‟d look like, she thought. He would never have worn the dress pants and tie that Sam always wore, but the overall effect would‟ve been the same. Square

32

Letting Off Steam

shoulders, straight nose, long. lean limbs, bright blond hair. The kind of guy a young, naïve woman could fall for just because he looked at her the right way. But she wasn‟t naïve anymore. “Go back to your office, Sam. I don‟t need you here.” He folded his arms across his chest, looked over her shoulder at the house, and scanned the yard to take in the barn. “He still here?” Despite the years, the anger and resentment that had been stewing in Carly was still there. She stabbed the earth again but instead of placing her foot on the edge she glared at Sam, letting him see the emotions tearing through her. “Just keep my number handy, okay?” he said, his voice softer. “Call if you need me?” Carly kept glaring, but the edges of her anger were beginning to fade. “Really, Sam, none of this is your business.” He shrugged and turned away, taking three steps before stopping and turning back. “Carly? Try to get over all that shit because that‟s all it was—a bunch of shit. Things should have been different for everyone. You, Jasmine, even Zack. Everyone missed out. Everyone got hurt. The thing is, now what?” Now what? He sighed, his face looking a lot older than forty. “You have the rest of your life ahead of you, don‟t waste it hating a dead man.” Easy for you to say. But she didn‟t say it. Because Sam had lost someone too. Zack had been a fling to her, the man who broke her heart then left her alone. But if it weren‟t for him, she wouldn‟t have her greatest joy—Jasmine. But what joy had Zack given Sam? None that she could remember. The only thing he‟d left behind for Sam and their parents was a trail of empty promises and arrogant rejection.

33

Isabelle Drake

Carly eased her grip on the shovel, lifted it out of the dirt and brought it to her side. “Thanks for coming over. I‟m fine.” It wasn‟t much, but it was the most she could manage with the old resentment still thrumming though her. “Call me if you need me?” he asked, dropping his arms, stepping back. Carly took in a breath, let it out and spun the handle of the shovel in her hands. He waited, watching her, his face tight. Carly let go of some of her own pain, letting it drift off in the late summer afternoon breeze. “Okay. I‟ll call if I need you.” It looked like he was going to say something else, but he pressed his lips together and nodded, his chin dipping down as he turned slowly away. Carly turned back to her digging, the sound of the leaves being kicked rustling softly until they faded away leaving Carly alone with her thoughts. A few minutes later, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit Leena‟s number. After their usual chatty exchange, she asked, “You busy tonight? Want to get ice cream at Scoopers?” “Can‟t tonight. Adam has to work late again. His new mechanic quit and the shop has been crazy busy. You don‟t happen to know a mechanic, do you?” Carly laughed. “Anyway, how‟s tomorrow?” Carly glanced toward the barn. It could be a long twenty-four hours. But it was better than nothing. “Sure. Meet me there?” “Yeah, let‟s meet. But not at Scoopers. Meet me at Kenny‟s—gotta run. See you at seven thirty, okay? Bye.” And then she was gone. Kenny’s? Carly slid the phone back into her pocket, and turned her energy loose on the innocent soil.

*****

34

Letting Off Steam

“Hey, Carly, good to see you out on a Friday night.” Katie Wilson set the cocktail napkin on the edge of the bar. “What can I get you?” Carly asked for the local microbrew Kenny had pretty much put on the map. “Good choice.” Katie flashed her an easy smile then slid away to the wide, glassdoor refrigerator that filled the wall. Carly breathed in the distinct combination of wood, beer, and the dense scent of bodies. A moment later Katie set the beer down and headed back to end of the bar where she‟d been chatting with a group of guys. “Anything else to go with that beer? Some company maybe?” Carly turned and came face-to-face with a guy she‟d never seen around town. Predictable but steady. Dark-brown hair, deep brown eyes, brown plaid shirt over a white t-shirt and brown canvas work pants. He was the kind of guy a girl could depend on for a good time. And maybe to help move furniture. Some other girl, though. Not her. “I‟m waiting for a friend. But thanks.” He leaned over, close enough for her to feel the heat of his bulky, work-hard body. “I‟ll be over by the pool table if you change your mind.” Angling back, he smiled. A friendly smile. Nice. But she wasn‟t interested. He strolled off, calling to a group of guys in the back. The men shouted back, laughing, having fun. Nice guys probably, just meeting in Kenny‟s back room for a night out. Carly let her gaze hop from one to the other. Besides the one who‟d said hello, there was a well-muscled guy in a tight black t-shirt, and a red-haired man wearing a white polo, and two more who looked vaguely familiar. She didn‟t let her gaze linger long enough to remember their names. One thing was for sure, none of them made her heart thump the way Harrison did. She didn‟t want Harrison, she was just starting to think that maybe she wanted that feeling he gave her. There had to be another guy around who could do the same thing for her. A guy who didn‟t have anything to do with Zack. A guy who didn‟t make her lose control so easily. 35

Isabelle Drake

Carly shifted on her tall, wooden stool and took a couple sips of her beer. Kenny‟s looked the same as always. An unlikely mixture of fishing lures and farm tools covered the rough wood paneling. Tin signs advertising tractors, feed supplies, and beer hung between the red vinyl booths. The pool tables in the back were separated by sliding glass doors. Considering the type of people who sometimes frequented the place it was a wonder that the doors were still there. Her gaze went back to the guys in the pool room, and she found herself sizing them up. Wondering which ones could make a woman explode just by rubbing against her. The one who‟d talked to her was punching the one in the tight black t-shirt. Was it wrong to wonder what they‟d look like rubbing against each other? What if she was between them? What had gotten into her? She wiggled, tugging on the hem of her skirt. A burst of laughter came from the end of the bar. Three guys were pounding on one of the stools, chanting. They were loud, but having such a good time it was hard for Carly to be annoyed at the noise. “Hey there, honeycakes.” Leena Talbot took the seat next to Carly. Glad to have her friend to take her mind off sex, Carly reached over and gave Leena a hug. Katie slid over, they traded hellos, and Leena asked for a bottle of the microbrew. After Katie headed for the beer, Carly leaned over. “What‟s up? Why‟d you want to meet here?” “Scoopers has great ice cream, but well, you know…” Leena shrugged, the picture of innocence as she thanked Katie for beer. “Something different, I guess.” Then Carly knew. A call from Jasmine prompted the choice. It would be just like her bossy daughter to butt into her life by calling her friend and insisting she help with her scheme.

36

Letting Off Steam

Leena was watching the group in the back poke each other with cue sticks. “Different is good, right?” Then without waiting for an answer, she started filling Carly in on what had been going on with her two boys, her husband‟s new job, and her volunteer work at the community center. Carly wanted to listen, but her mind kept wandering off, thinking back to the hard lines of Harrison‟s chest, the commanding thrusts of his hips and that explosive orgasm. Damn. There was no going back to flower gardens and meditation after that. “But from that look on your face I can tell it‟s nothing bad.” “Huh?” Carly shifted, crossing her legs and trying to douse the fresh flames. “Geez.” Leena pushed her jet-black hair away from her eyes. “Must be seriously good whatever it is. Or is it who?” Carly‟s gaze drifted to the guys in the back of the room. None of them looked as ruggedly capable as Harrison. The man in the canvas work pants was bending down to line up the cue. He looked good, but didn‟t have that edge Harrison did. That dark side the two of them seemed to share. Whether they wanted to or not. “It is who. What‟s his name?” Carly pulled her attention back to her friend. “No—I—” Leena shook her head. “You can‟t lie to me. We‟ve been friends for too long.” Carly intentionally changed the topic. “I talked to Jasmine the other night.” “Fine. We‟ll talk about Jasmine first. But I do want to hear about him.” Leena tucked her hair behind her ears. “So tell me what she said. She‟s doing great, isn‟t she?” If Jasmine had called Leena and got her in on her scheme, Leena already knew the answer, but Carly pretended not to suspect the two had been in touch. She nodded, wondering where the usual thrill was. She was proud of Jasmine so why didn‟t she feel it? “Yep,” she said, fighting the mismatched emotions churning inside her as she tried to make her eyes bright. “She‟s got a new job and her classes are going well. Really well.”

37

Isabelle Drake

“Of course she‟s doing great. She‟s just like you. When she wants something, she goes after it. Doesn‟t let anything get in her way.” There had been a time when Carly would‟ve agreed she was that kind of person. But who was she now? She started picking at the label on her beer bottle. “Yeah. I know.” “That‟s good,” her friend said, nudging her with her elbow. “You want to have a daughter like that. It means you don‟t have to worry about her.” “Yeah.” She started a pile of the label bits, covering the fishing lures that were embedded into the lacquered bar. “I know.” “What‟s up?” “I miss her,” she said, realizing she was acting like a moody teenager. Leena took a sip from her bottle and set it on the glossy surface. “Of course you do.” “Need anything, ladies?” “No thanks, Katie,” Carly replied, forcing a smile as she answered then turned back to Leena. “I didn‟t realize it was going to be like this.” Leena‟s lips quirked, and her dark eyebrows went up. “Like what?” Carly picked off the last of the label. “Like—I—I‟m—” “Lonely? That‟s not surprising.” “Maybe I am a little, but that‟s not the main thing.” A roar came from the back room, followed by a round of low, deep, very male cheers. The low vibrations made Carly shiver. No doubt about it. She was bad off. Once the voices faded, Leena said, “Empty nest syndrome.” The words settled around Carly, and she flinched. “What? That sounds horrible.” Carly brushed the pile of tattered pieces onto her napkin and rolled the whole thing up. “I‟m not old enough for that.” 38

Letting Off Steam

“Shut up.” Leena laughed. “That‟s not what I meant, and you know it.” Smoothing her palms across her bare thighs, she mumbled, “I don‟t feel old.” Thanks to Harrison. “You aren‟t. And it‟s time to stop acting like—okay. I admit it. That‟s why I wanted to meet here.” Leena dropped her hands into her lap, pivoting on her barstool as she scanned the crowd. More people had wandered in and the tables were filling up with couples, groups of friends, and plenty of single guys. “Anybody look good?” she asked, turning back to Carly. “Or are you just jonesing for whoever your new guy is?” “I didn‟t admit that there is a new guy,” Carly said, letting her gaze skim over the people in bar. The guy who owned the feed store was curled up next to the woman who ran Clipped „N Curly, one of the local hair salons. Across from them were the parents of one of Jasmine‟s friends from school. Nobody seemed to be watching Carly and Leena. “What‟s his name?” Carly pulled herself away from her preoccupation with whether or not people were judging her and smirked. “What makes you so sure there is a him?” “Okay, prove me wrong, go hit on some random guy. Or prove me right and dish.” Carly pressed her lips together. “Okay, so you aren‟t going to talk. Then take a look around, pick somebody.” “What makes you think I ever even want to have sex with some total stranger?” Leena rolled her eyes. “I didn‟t say you had to have sex with him, just talk to somebody. Flirt a little.” Carly spotted the brown-eyed guy again, this time leaning against the back wall with one long leg propped up behind him. Each time she looked at him, he looked better. But still. “Even if I did decide to pick up a guy this is the last place I‟d do it.” “Why? At least here you know the guy will be local.” “That‟s the problem. I don‟t want anyone to see me, you know, doing that.” “Hello! Do you know what year it is? Look around. Nobody cares.”

39

Isabelle Drake

“That might be true in a city, or even in the suburbs, but here in small-town USA it matters.” Leena frowned and shook her head. “Honestly, I know there are plenty of people around here who‟d like to see you have some fun. I know because I‟m one of them.” A flicker of frustration curled through Carly. She‟d dedicated her whole life to being Jasmine‟s mom, but now that Jasmine was gone she had no idea what she was supposed to be. Who she was supposed to be. And worse than that, she had no idea how she was supposed to figure it out. But her mixed-up emotions weren‟t Leena‟s fault. Carly wasn‟t even sure Leena would understand what she was feeling. Leena had done everything the right way— college, marriage, kids, career—in that order. How could her friend understand what it felt like to live your whole adult life in the shadow of public humiliation? “I guess you‟re right,” Carly said finally, even though she wasn‟t at all sure it was true. Or even if she wanted it to be true. What if nobody did care? Then what reason would she have for keeping to herself? “I am right, and you know it.” Leena crossed one long leg over the other and flicked a piece of straw from her jeans. “So. Tell me what else Jasmine said and—” Leena tugged her cell out of her pocket, checked the display then clicked a couple buttons. “Crap. Ollie‟s chewed the rope off the back gate.” “Ollie?” “The kids‟ new pygmy goat.” Leena set her half-empty beer on the edge of the bar and climbed off the stool. “I‟m sorry, I gotta go. If he wanders into the neighbor‟s yard and starts eating their maple saplings there‟s going to be trouble.” “Do you want some help?” “Oh, no. You stay here. Try to get into some trouble. Please?” Carly rolled her eyes as she swung her legs out of the way so Leena could get down. “Let me know what happens with the goat.”

40

Letting Off Steam

“Shouldn‟t be anything to report if I get there in time.” When Leena started digging for money, Carly hopped down and pushed her toward the door. “Go. I got this.” Leena called her thanks as she rushed for the exit, disappearing in seconds. Carly headed back to the stool and sat. Maybe that‟s what her life would‟ve been like if she had married Zack. And he‟d been a completely different person. But if he had been a different person she never would have fallen for him. Back then, she was an idiot. And immature. Her choices really were everything everyone told her they were. Which, now that she took the time to think about it, was what made her so mad. She was beginning to see now that she hadn‟t really been mad at them. She‟d been mad at herself. Tension gathered in Carly‟s shoulders, spread to her spine and her back stiffened. All those years of fighting, of proving to everyone they were wrong about her—and now it was over. If only she could go back to being satisfied with the idea of redoing the flowerbeds. But now, it was as though the lid she‟d had on her emotions all those years had been blown off. Not carefully lifted with gentle hands. But yanked off and thrown aside. Not even extra meditation both morning and night were going to be enough to keep her from thinking what else might be out there for her. Seriously, what the hell was she supposed to do with herself now? And considering she had been thinking about what it would be like after Jasmine left home, why hadn‟t she seen this coming? “Alone again?” Carly turned, coming face-to-face with the brown-eyed guy. “Guess so,” she said. “Where‟d your friend go?” “Trouble with a goat,” she replied.

41

Isabelle Drake

His mouth curved up on one side. “Really?” “Really.” “Hope it‟s going to be okay,” he said, dropping onto the stool Leena had left empty. “It will,” she replied, shifting so her skirt covered more of her thighs. He pulled the stool closer, spreading his sturdy legs and resting his booted feet on opposite sides of her stool. “Then we don‟t have to worry about it, do we?” he asked, letting one leg drop and thrusting his pelvis upward. “No,” she said, staring at the firm outline of his cock. Again she found herself thinking about Harrison. Which reminded her of Zack. And then had her thinking about how she‟d wasted all that time being mad. “I should probably tell you, I‟m not in a very friendly mood.” “What kind of mood are you in?” She set the fingertips of one hand on her thigh and spun her fingers in circles, tracing a spiral of want on her own skin. “Honestly?” “Sure. Honestly.” “Pissed off.” “I like pissed off,” he replied, leaning back and looking her over. “Pissed off can be fun.” She considered her state of mind. “Think so?” He nodded, hopeful. “Sure.”

42

Letting Off Steam

Chapter Four The man waved to Katie, and she came over. Then he turned to Carly. “Are you whiskey mad or tequila mad?” Curiosity lifted Katie‟s expression, but the other woman didn‟t ask any questions. She just waited for Carly‟s reply. The first stirrings of humor curled though Carly, and she smiled in spite of herself. “Tequila mad.” “Two doubles, please.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and set it on the edge of the bar. “Now that we have that out of the way, I‟m Owen.” “I‟m Carly.” He held out his hand, and she accepted it, curling her fingertips around his square palm. The rough skin of his hand skimmed across her wrist when she pulled away, and she tucked her hand into her lap. “Tell me what you‟re pissed about.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you from around here?” “Nope. I‟m just here helping my cousin, Timmy Harzod, with the hay baling. One of his men had to fly to Kentucky for a funeral. Timmy‟s back there playing pool. Know him?” Carly did. Of course. “He was a grade ahead of me.” “Small town, huh?” Owen set his hand on his thigh and looked around. “Guess everybody in here knows everybody else.” “Pretty much.” Owen looked over his shoulder then over the tables. “Anything—anybody—I should know about?” “No. Not like you mean.”

43

Isabelle Drake

“Good news for me.” Katie set down the shots and picked up the twenty. Owen picked up one glass and held it out for Carly. She took it and waited while he picked up the other. “Here‟s to being pissed off,” he said. Carly swallowed the double in one gulp. The liquor burned down her throat and flamed in her stomach. She settled in to the intense heat, embracing the reckless fire it ignited. She set the glass down with a gentle thump. Owen set his empty shot glass beside hers. She pulled in a breath and rolled her shoulders back. The tension was still there, but it had transformed from shapeless frustration to a sharp need to do something. But whatever it was, she couldn‟t do it there, at Kenny‟s, surrounded by fishing lures, tin signs, and people she‟d known most of her life. Owen grinned. “You know, you really do look pissed off.” Carly laughed. “I told you so.” “Guess I ought to leave you alone, then.” She offered a weak smile. “Probably a good idea.” He hopped off the barstool and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hope it gets better.” “Thanks for the tequila,” she said. He flashed her one last smile then headed back to his friends. Carly pulled a few dollars from her purse and hopped off the stool. Outside, the night was still warm, and the streets were busier than usual. Even the grocery store across from Kenny‟s had a full parking lot. Carly paused, watching a small car packed with high school kids rumble past. Their laughter floated out the open windows, leaving a trail of carefree happiness behind. Another car cruised past, then Carly figured it out. It was Friday night, so there was a football game.

44

Letting Off Steam

She stepped into the street, heading toward the end of town where the gas station light brightened up the fields that edged the shopping district. There wasn‟t any point in going home. Sleep was a long way off. And the last thing she wanted to do was lie in bed and think of Harrison. The few blocks went quickly, and Carly soon found herself beyond the station‟s lights. She kept walking, realizing she‟d known where she was headed. She crossed the street, stepping onto a path she‟d known well at one time. Because of the years of neglect, the rough building was more battered than before, but the image in Carly‟s mind was so clear she could still see it the way it had been about twenty years ago. That night had changed her life, and she hadn‟t been back since. Even though the path was hidden by branches, she stepped quickly in the darkness, not even slowing when the trees and bushes became dense. As she rounded the back corner, she spotted the outline of a familiar set of shoulders. She moved to the doorway and paused, letting her eyes adjust to the dense interior. “Spend a lot of time in abandoned lumber mills?” she asked, stepping into the darkness and breathing in the faint scent of raw wood and the remnants of her youth. “Zack told me about this place.” Harrison‟s arms were folded over his lean chest. Her heart thumped, and she remained silent. “He said something about it being the place where it all started. Or maybe he said it was where it all ended.” He reached down to pick up a small board, running his palm across the ragged edges. “I figured what he was saying had something to do with you.” How easy it was for Zack to pin it all on one night. But she couldn‟t stop herself from asking. “Did he say started? Or ended? Can you remember?” Harrison tossed the board, and it hit the ground with a dull thud. “No. If he did I can‟t remember.” Carly stepped in, moving to the center of the room, stopping at the spot where the saw used to be. Sawdust and bits of wood were all that were left from the days when the long, narrow building was actually used for business. Back when she‟d been with 45

Isabelle Drake

Zack, they‟d used it as a hideaway. Whether that night she‟d become pregnant with Jasmine was an end to Zack didn‟t matter. It had been a beginning for her. Zack had left, and she‟d gotten over him. Now she realized she‟d gotten over him so long ago she couldn‟t even remember why she cared that he‟d left. It was just that he had left. Harrison leaned against the wall and eyed Carly. “You want to tell me which it was for you?” “I guess it was a bit of both.” She kicked the board he‟d tossed. “But it doesn‟t matter now.” “You sure?” “I‟m sure.” She forced herself away from the center of the room and crossed to the window that overlooked the river. The glass was long gone, and she rested her fingers on the weather-worn edge. She tipped her head back and answered over her shoulder. “It hasn‟t mattered in a really long time. I just didn‟t know it.” “I‟m glad to hear that,” Harrison replied, his body motionless even though his voice was simmering with tension.

Harrison straightened, looking around. Moonlight streamed in through the broken windows. The warm late summer air was humid and still. His gaze came back to Carly. He‟d been regretting what he‟d done in the barn, but maybe he‟d read her wrong. His body sure wasn‟t regretting it. His dick was hard again and his breathing quick. His whole body was aching for more. A series of shouts and laughter came from the road as a crowd of rowdy kids walked past. “Is it usually this loud on a Friday night?” he asked. She threw him a distracted look. “What?” “A lot of noise around this quiet town, is it usually like this on the weekend?” Her voice got tight. “I guess so, when there‟s a football game.”

46

Letting Off Steam

She moved again, her body a sexy shadow in the dim light. Her shoulders were strong and square but not stiff. Solid. Purposeful. Feminine. He‟d been glad many times that he‟d never really known Zack Maloy, never been the man‟s friend. Right then he was especially glad. Because if he had been the man‟s friend, he would‟ve sent him home to Carly. And a man like Zack didn‟t deserve a woman like her. The sounds from the road faded, and she turned, her gaze thoughtful. She obviously had a lot on her mind. “I should get going,” he said, moving his shoulders off the wall. “No. Stay.” He waited, shifting his hips. She made a point of looking down at his crotch. “I bet you‟d be a lot more comfortable if you unzipped your pants.” Harrison cupped his cock, trying to shove it away from the rough edges. “Go ahead.” She swung her leg toward him. “Or do you want me to do it for you?” He stopped adjusting himself and tucked his hands behind his back. “Yeah. You do it.” She pulled something from her purse then dropped the purse to the ground. “Come over here,” she said, her words a soft challenge. The air was still, earthy, and scented by the thick wood paneling lining the walls. Rays of moonlight cut through the bare windows the distant rumble of cars a reminder that the outside world was nearby. Their solitude was an illusion. The world was out there, and it wasn‟t going away. “You afraid of what I might do to you?” she asked, running her fingers down the front of her shirt. She stopped at the hem of her skirt and slid her fingers underneath the thin fabric. He thrust his hips forward, rocking on his heels. “Maybe you‟re the one who should be afraid.”

47

Isabelle Drake

She understood he was joking and smiled. “I don‟t think so.” “You sure?” he asked. “I‟m sure,” she replied, laughing lightly as she moved aside to lean against a post. He watched the motion of her hands as she fingered the hem of her short skirt. Damn. He wanted his fingers to be caressing the smooth, warm skin beneath that thin fabric. “What is it you have in mind, anyway?” he asked. She stretched her arms back and grabbed the post behind her. Her back arched, thrusting her breasts up. “Not much,” she murmured, swaying her hips. He grunted at her understatement. “Not much, huh?” “No. Not much.” She propped one foot on the post and dropped her leg aside, holding up a small square package. “Just letting off a little steam. That‟s all.” It was going to be more than that, Harrison was sure. But she wasn‟t looking that far into the future, that much was obvious. Tension snapped between them, pulling their bodies together despite the distance. One step was all it would take. Once he started moving there would be no turning back. She moved first, reaching him in quick, long strides. She wrapped her hands around his waist and pressed her cheek against his neck. He stayed still, letting her settle against him. The pressure of her body was surprisingly strong, she leaned against him as though she wanted to hold on and never let go. Harrison clenched his jaw. Truth was, after the last three months, he didn‟t have much to offer. Only himself, nothing more. Certainly not much of a future. But she wanted him, and it felt damn good to be wanted. “Unzip your pants.” She pressed the condom into his palm and ran her mouth across his ear, her lips soft and smooth, her breath a hot, demanding caress. He popped the snap on his jeans and pulled down the zipper. She ran her open mouth down his neck, her teeth leaving a light trail all the way to his collarbone. He

48

Letting Off Steam

grabbed the loops, and pulled his briefs and jeans down together. Carly slid one hand down, skimming her fingers across his skin, then grabbed his cock. He groaned. She curved her fingers around his hard shaft. “We have some unfinished business to take care of,” she said into his ear, her voice a hot promise. The muscles of his thighs tensed, and he stood still, pulling air deep into his chest. If he gave her what she wanted, what they both wanted, what then? She used her other hand to pull his mouth to hers. Her kisses weren‟t aggressive. They were tender and the slightest bit unsure. Was she unsure of him? Or herself? He returned her sweet exploration, testing the textures of her mouth with his tongue, easing off when she moved back for a deep breath. Dense earthen scents rose up from the leaves scattered across the floor. The smell struck a chord deep inside him and primal need flowed through him. The tension in his thighs turned to thick heat and spread up through his ass, his gut, and burned through his torso. By the time it reached his hands, his palms were on fire with the need to touch her, grab her, and make her follow his lead. Maybe they didn‟t need more than each other—this one night. She sure as hell wasn‟t thinking beyond the moment right then. “I need you, Harrison.” She pressed a row of tiny kisses down his neck as she squeezed his shaft. “It‟s not too much to ask, is it?” The tip of his cock brushed against the light fabric of her skirt, sending pulses of electricity skittering through his veins. One hard thrust was all he needed to be deep inside her. Harrison grabbed the hem of Carly‟s t-shirt and yanked it above her bra. She let go of his dick long enough to let him peel the shirt off, toss it to the ground. Within seconds her hands were back on his cock, squeezing and caressing, gliding up and down his shaft with long, controlled strokes. He reached for the white lace cups of her bra, his fingers dark and thick against her light, delicate skin. He tugged the lace down, releasing her pale, round breasts. Arching her back, she urged him closer, silently 49

Isabelle Drake

asking him to touch her, take her. He ran his palms over her nipples, feeling them tighten even more when he pressed his thumb to the heavy underside of each breast. She moaned and her grip on his cock loosened. Male satisfaction pulsed through him. Now he had her attention. He dropped his lips to her right nipple, pulling the tight peak deep into his mouth. She whimpered and swayed, her whole body soft and willing, so sweet and hot, right there for the taking. She sagged into him, her legs pressing against his thighs. He curled one hand around, reached under her skirt and grabbed her ass. “A thong, good thinking.” He squeezed her rounded hip, pulling slightly to open the cleft between her ass cheeks. She reached down to shove the scrap of fabric aside, but he stopped her. “But I still want you to take it off,” he said, reaching down to pull off her tiny panties. After kicking the bit of lace aside, she shifted one leg and gave him the space he needed to get between her thighs. He gave her nipple one last tug, then lifted his head. “Let go of my cock. Wrap your leg around me.” Instead of following his request, she wiggled against him, arching her back, spreading her legs and rubbing her crotch against his hard shaft. “You need to learn to follow directions.” He reached down, grabbed her thigh and lifted it. “Yes sir,” she murmured, setting her hands on his shoulders and hooking her leg around him. She laughed as he fumbled with the foil, the sound a throaty consent. He rolled the condom on. Her leg dropped lower and her pussy opened to him. He slid his fingertips over her ass cheeks, gliding down between into her hot, wet folds. Still caressing her, he kissed her lightly on the mouth, then pressed his lips harder, forcing her mouth to open and accept the sweep of his tongue. Holding her firmly, he pivoted until her back was to the wall, and he was square in front of her.

50

Letting Off Steam

“Yes, Harrison. I-I want—” Her word fells away as he slid his fingertips into her slick cunt. Her pussy was slick, and her smooth internal walls tight. He explored her hot opening with his fingers, circling his fingers higher and deeper into her core. She moaned and dropped her knee, giving him still better access to her. “I know what you want.” To make sure he had her full attention he covered her mouth with his, pressing his lips firmly against hers. Returning the kiss eagerly, she opened her mouth the same hungry way she‟d opened her legs for him. He nipped her lips lightly then filled her mouth with his tongue, the action a silent promise to fill her tight channel. She whimpered and sagged back, eagerly letting him possess her. She squirmed, trying to force his hand deeper inside her hot core. Eventually, she had to pull her mouth away. “It‟s not enough, Harrison,” she said, the words coming out between soft gasps as she moved her hips forward. She looked past his shoulder, and her gaze cut through the space around them. She didn‟t seem to be looking at anything in particular, but he could tell her mind was spinning. Finally, she looked directly at him, her eyes hazy with need and something else. Anger? Frustration? Whatever it was, it didn‟t have anything to do with him, but it had something to do with the place. And probably her past. “Fuck me, Harrison.” She wiggled still closer, working her hips so her slick pussy opened for him, balancing on one foot as she tightened the other leg behind his back. “Now.” The tip of his cock brushed against the soft hair covering her mound. Just one quick thrust and he‟d be inside her, pounding into her welcoming pussy. “Especially now? Especially here?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied, reaching for his cock, again running her hands up and down his ready shaft. “That all?” “No.” Her gaze cleared, and she swayed toward him, her hand still caressing the tight skin of his rigid penis. “And especially with you.” 51

Isabelle Drake

He pressed the tip of his cock against the hard bone of her pelvis and guided himself down between her slick nether lips. She angled her hips and held her body still as she tightened her grip on him. And then he thrust into her, driving into her, filling her completely. She cried out, but held tight with her leg. He stilled, letting her body adjust to his cock deep inside her tight core. “Yes, like that,” she whispered, her voice husky with determination. “Fuck me hard.” Her sheath was so tight, so hot, and so slick he wouldn‟t have been able to take her any other way. He eased back, then pounded into her again. The tension in her back started to release, but she clung to him just as tightly. He forgot about regrets and holding back, and tomorrow.

Liquid bliss flowed through Carly‟s veins, coursing hotter and harder each time Harrison thrust into her, filling her completely with his capable cock. Shatter my world, she thought, clinging to him with near desperation. Make me forget. He pressed his lips to her throat, and she dropped her head back. His breath caressed her neck, skimming across her flushed skin in sharp pants. The whisper of air created tiny shock waves that pulsed through her body. Over and over he impaled her, his shaft getting still harder and thicker. She held tight and rocked against him, shifting her position to put more pressure on her clit. Each time he rocked into her, the pressure built, pulling her nerve endings tighter and tighter. A whimper of need slipped from her throat and she bucked against him, urging him to take everything she had. Finally, her release spiraled through her, and she gave herself over. Letting herself fall into the mindless bliss Harrison offered. His orgasm came on the heels of hers, and for a few short seconds they were joined in sexual release, their worlds colliding and melding together. 52

Letting Off Steam

But it was over way too soon, and when Harrison pulled back, Carly felt weak and uncertain. She dropped her leg to the floor and pulled in a steadying breath. Harrison eased her back. The storm she‟d come to expect in his gaze was gone, his eyes clear. He kissed her softly on the lips, and whispered into her ear. “I haven‟t felt like that in a long, long time.” Instead of letting her go, as she expected, he kissed her again, pressing her against the wall and using his thumb to tip back her head and deepen the sweet kiss. He tossed the condom aside and set his hands on her waist and continued kissing her, slowly, gently, as though he planned to keep kissing her for a long, long time. A shiver ran down her spine and the sexual warmth still lingering in her veins stirred. She followed his lead, and returned his kiss, willingly letting him hold her to the wall, so she could do something she‟d been wanting to do ever since she‟d laid her gaze on him—slide her hands under his shirt and run her palms slowly across the hard, lean muscles of his chest. His heart thumped beneath her fingertips, and she took her time, skimming her hands over his body, circling her way to the center to run her palms down the light coating of hair. She dropped her hands lower, following the trail of hair as it became thick again. He continued kissing her, easily, lightly, sweetly. And she kissed him back, welcoming the gentle exchange and the chance to touch him. Carly swept her hands back, running her fingertips across his wide back, touching him possessively as though she had every right to massage the aches of his day away. Harrison lifted his mouth from hers to look into her eyes. She looked back, unsure of what he saw in her, clueless about what he wanted. Again she expected him to pull away, but instead he moved his mouth to her throat and ran a tiny row of kisses down her neck to her collarbone. As he bent lower, her hands fell from his back to his hips. Harrison swayed forward, nudging Carly with the tip of his cock. “Hard again?” He laughed, and she felt the husky vibrations under her fingers. 53

Isabelle Drake

She took his hard cock in her hands, and he rocked forward, forcing more of his shaft between her palms. His response filled her with a new sense of power, filled her with purpose. She dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth, licking and sucking his firm skin. Above her, she heard Harrison groan as he stretched forward to brace himself. She pressed the tip between her lips then took more of him into her mouth. He leaned forward, rocking, so the tip of his shaft hit the back of her throat. Carly couldn‟t keep from smiling. And when she did, his cock fell from her mouth and bobbed deliciously in from of her. She settled herself comfortably between his feet, took his balls in one hand and curled the other around his shaft. She teased him with her tongue, licking the tip with long, slow strokes. “Now you‟re going to torture me?” A tense chuckle rolled from his throat. “I thought we were getting to be friends.” But she didn‟t want to think. She only wanted the moment and whatever the moment could give her. “I haven‟t made up my mind, yet.” He shifted, trying to push his cock into her mouth, but she leaned to the side. He laughed again, knowing she was toying with him. “This would be a good time for you to decide.” “So now you‟re going to tell me what to do?” “No ma‟am. I‟d never dream of it.” He touched the top of her head and ran his fingertips down the side of her check. “Good thing, because I only do what I want.” Before he could say any more, she opened her mouth and took his entire shaft in, slowing swirling her tongue around his thick shaft and loving the power that came with being in control.

54

Letting Off Steam

Chapter Five Distant shouts and the rumble of car engines reminded Harrison of the outside world. How many of the local high school kids knew about the abandoned mill? And if they did know about it, would any of them be showing up? A horn blared and brakes screeched. He didn‟t care about getting caught, but what if a couple of the local kids walked in and recognized Carly? He sucked in a deep breath and managed to say, “Maybe we should get going.” Ignoring him, she continued working her mouth up and down, curving her soft, wet tongue across his hard, tight skin. If she were so intent on bringing him to climax, the least he could do was cooperate. He blocked out the noise from the street and focused on the sexy woman at his feet. The tension inside his thighs spread to his ass and up through his torso. Carly‟s careful and constant touch seemed to be everywhere, heating his entire body inside and out. The first flicker of his orgasm set off a series of fierce and explosive pulses that raced through his body. Harrison grabbed the window ledge as he felt his breath hitching deep in his throat. The orgasm circled through him, and Carly continued, licking and sucking his shaft until the last spurts of cum ran down her throat. He stepped back, and she followed, still licking his salty tip. As his breathing started to even out, he pulled her to her feet and kissed his awesome mouth. “I knew it would be like that.” She pushed her hair away from her face. “You did?” “Sure. Ever since I saw you standing in your doorway.” She tilted her head and looked at him from under her lashes, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “You do not remember that.”

55

Isabelle Drake

“I remember some of what actually happened, but I remember everything I was thinking.” He reached down, stuffed the used condom into his pocket and pulled up his briefs and jeans. While he was adjusting his clothes, and watching Carly scramble to gather hers, he added, “Next time we do this, it‟s going to be in a bed.” “My bed?” she asked, wiggling into her t-shirt. “It‟s a promise,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her from the mill. Outside, moonlight lit the path, and they easily found their way to the edge of the sidewalk. Harrison paused as a stream of cars went by. “Do you think we‟ll see anyone you know?” he asked over his shoulder. “I don‟t care if we do,” she replied, shoving him from behind. He stumbled out onto the sidewalk. She fell into step beside him and took his hand, swinging their arms together. “Did I do something right?” he asked, glancing at their laced fingers. She shrugged, her gaze circling his face for a few steps before she looked away, into the empty street. His truck was parked in the opposite direction, but he didn‟t say anything. They walked in silence, down the street, passing the grocery store. The store was closed, but inside a young woman was cashing out her register. Carly waved to her, and she waved back. The young woman smiled and waved in his direction, too. “You know a lot of people around here,” he said, lifting his hand to wave. “Yeah. I guess so. That girl graduated with Jasmine last spring. She‟s staying home a year to save money for school. She wants to go to University of Cincinnati. I think her boyfriend plays football there.” “Jasmine‟s your daughter, right?” “Yep.” Carly let go of his hand to step over a tree root pushing up through the sidewalk. “UC had a great team for a couple years.”

56

Letting Off Steam

Harrison stepped over the root then reached for her hand. “The coach left in the middle of the season, right?” “He left at the end of the season, but it was right before a playoff game.” She curled her fingers around his palm. “People shouldn‟t just quit like that. If they make a commitment they should stick with it.” “You‟re right. They should.” He nodded, but he wasn‟t thinking about the coach. He was considering her comment about finishing what you start. If he didn‟t think that way, he sure as hell wouldn‟t have come to do Zack‟s bidding. She nudged him with her elbow. “What? Why the look? You a giant UC fan?” He nodded, “Exactly. A huge fan.” “I don‟t think that‟s it,” she said, her voice certain. “But you don‟t have to tell me. I know what it‟s like to not want to talk about something.” Kenny‟s was on the opposite side of the street, and she stopped. “My car is over there, in the lot, but I feel like walking. Want to walk back?” He pointed to the opposite end of town. “My truck‟s back that way, anyway. I‟ll come back in the morning for it.” They started to move again, side by side. If he hadn‟t given Zack his word that he‟d come talk to Carly, he wouldn‟t be where he was now. Funny how things can work out. They started off again, and after a few minutes of walking in silence, she turned to him. “You might as well go ahead and tell me what you wanted to tell me,” she said. “You mean about Zack?” “Yeah. Go ahead.” “You changed your mind about the tractor?” “No. I was being stupid. Even if you were his best friend, it wouldn‟t matter. You aren‟t him. You didn‟t do what he did.”

57

Isabelle Drake

Harrison‟s throat tightened as the truth swelled inside him. “I could have been part of what he did. Besides, what about the tractor? I haven‟t got it running, yet.” “You aren‟t the first guy to try to get it to work.” “I figured. But I‟m usually pretty good with my hands.” “I noticed.” She lifted their hands. “You a musician?” “No.” The downtown sidewalk ended, so they stepped onto the shoulder of the country highway. “So how did you meet Zack?” “In the back of an ambulance.” She slowed her steps. “Oh.” “Right. The night before he died.” Carly resumed her pace and let out a deep breath. “I thought you knew him. Like you were friends or something.” “No, it wasn‟t a friendly exchange there in the back of the truck. It was more of a tangle of needles, tubes, and some paddles.” Carly glanced over at him, her face tight. “I‟m sorry. I shouldn‟t have treated you the way I did. That was pretty stupid.” “I guess I don‟t blame you.” Harrison considered what Sam had told him before he‟d gotten so drunk everything became a blur. “Honestly, from what I‟ve heard around here, the guy was an asshole.” “An idiot,” Carly clarified, “I think that‟s what you called him the other night.” “No.” Harrison looked her over, remembering exactly what he‟d said and why he‟d said it. “I think it was really, real idiot.” “Right.” Carly chuckled, but the laughter wasn‟t happy. “The jerk died before I had a chance to tell him off.” “That‟s not the way he told it. He knew how you felt.” Harrison slid her a glance. “I think he was afraid of you. Not that I blame him, though.” 58

Letting Off Steam

She reached over to push an overgrown maple branch out of the way. “You aren‟t afraid of me.” “You sure about that?” “Yes. What‟s to be scared of?” “A lot.” “Thanks. Maybe that‟s why I‟ve been alone all these years.” She laughed, but it was a dry laugh, one that hinted at loneliness. Or was he only hearing what he himself felt? They walked along in silence for a while, occasionally stepping aside when a car or truck rumbled past. Then she tugged on his hand. “So tell me what you wanted to tell me.” “See? That‟s why he was afraid of you. You‟re bossy.” She smacked his shoulder. “This is the last time I‟m going to ask.” They‟d reached the edge of her driveway, and he slowed his steps, not ready for the night to end. Or to answer any more questions. But she kept staring at him, waiting. “He asked me to tell you he should have stayed.” “That‟s it?” “Pretty much. He also told me about all the crap you put up with for hanging around him.” “And he told you about the mill.” Harrison nodded. “All in the back of the ambulance.” “No. He was pretty much unconscious then. It was the next morning. I stopped by the hospital to take care of some paperwork, and he‟d asked to meet the guys who‟d scraped him off the pavement. I went and talked to him. He died in his sleep a couple hours later.” “You were the last person he talked to?” 59

Isabelle Drake

Harrison watched a truck rumble past then turned back to Carly. “Yeah. I guess I was.” “Did you tell this to his brother Sam?” “No. I didn‟t tell Sam I knew Zack. I think I said someone about knowing who he was, that he was from around here, and…” She nodded, a quirky, half-smile pulling on her mouth. “You were too drunk to remember or have an actual conversation.” He nodded, but that was a lie. He‟d known the whole time he‟d been talking to Sam, that it was his brother who‟d died alone in a hospital bed. “You should talk to Sam. Tell him what you told me.” She pulled Harrison‟s hand, tugging him down the driveway. “Not the part about him saying he shouldn‟t have left me. But the rest. And whatever else he said. Tell Sam what his brother‟s last words were. His last thoughts. I think he‟d want to know.” “I got the feeling that you didn‟t care about Sam or anybody else related to Zack.” “I thought I didn‟t, but I do. Sam lost a brother, and his parents a son. All I lost was a focus for my anger.” “Right. I see what you mean.” He kissed her quickly then stepped away from her, toward the barn. “Goodnight.” She pointed to the house. “You want to sleep inside? I mean after—” “Nah. I kind of like it out here. Quiet. You know.” Her eyebrows knitted together, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “Okay. You sure?” He kissed her again. “I‟m sure,” he said, letting go of her hand and heading to the wide double doors.

*****

60

Letting Off Steam

Carly turned into the parking lot and stared at the painted wood sign. Sam Maloy, Attorney-at-Law. She turned off the ignition and studied the tidy, brick wall. Matching brick planters sat on either side of the entrance, filled with very traditional bright red geraniums and dark-green ivy. A brass plaque hung on the door, featuring Sam‟s name and a list of the firm‟s other attorneys and the words, family law specialists. Carly had driven by Sam‟s office hundreds of times, often noticing cars parked in the lot at odd hours, including weekends. But she‟d never even considered going in. Until that morning, when she‟d gone down to the barn to take Harrison a cup of coffee and found him—and all his things—gone. Thinking he‟d walked to town for his truck, she waited. And waited. Then, once it was obvious he‟d gone, she left. She had no right to be disappointed. He‟d come to pass on the message from Zack. He‟d done that. So he‟d left. Now here she was, seeking out Sam. If Harrison didn‟t want to tell Sam about Zack‟s last words and thoughts, she would. She dropped her keys into her purse and climbed out. Inside, a trim and traditional brunette sat behind the reception desk, her short, perfectly polished pink fingernails skimming over a keyboard. Carly felt underdressed in her bright yellow sundress and flip-flops. “How can I help you today, miss?” Explain what the hell happened to me in the last forty-eight hours because I am a completely different person. After Carly recovered from her own turmoil, she said, “I‟m hoping to talk to Sam.” The woman lifted her carefully arched eyebrows, her question hanging unsaid in the air. “I‟m Carly Jameson.” A smile flashed across the woman‟s mouth. “Jasmine‟s mom!” She hopped to her feet and stepped away from her desk. “He‟s working on a case, but I know he‟ll want to take a break to see you.” Less than a minute later, Sam came into the reception area, right on the heels of the brunette.

61

Isabelle Drake

He rounded the receptionist desk, coming to stand right in front of Carly. “Everything okay?” The shock and worry on his face caught her by surprise. A call ahead of time probably would‟ve been a good idea. “Jasmine‟s fine. I‟m fine. Everything‟s okay.” His shoulders dropped as he exhaled. “Good. Great. I‟m glad.” Carly smiled apologetically at the brunette, then said softly, “Could we talk for a minute?” “Nice to meet you, Carly,” the woman said, sliding back into her plush chair and resuming her work. Sam took Carly‟s elbow and guided her through the thickly carpeted hallway, into his office. Instead of sitting at the giant wood desk placed by the broad window, he sat in one of the two chairs near the door. Carly sat in the other and put her purse on her lap. She tugged on the strap and tried unsuccessfully to avoid Sam‟s face. “Is it Harrison? Did he cause some trouble?” Carly let out a breath. “Sort of.” Sam‟s mouth went tight. “No. Nothing like that. He‟s been fine.” Really fine. Well, until he walked out without saying goodbye. “It has to do with why he wanted to see me.” “Zack?” She let go of the straps. “How did you know?” “When Harrison showed up at Kenny‟s asking about Zack‟s family, wondering where they lived and how he could find someone named Carly, Kenny called me. I went down there.” “Oh.” That made sense, more sense than Sam Maloy, upstanding citizen, just happening to be at Kenny‟s.

62

Letting Off Steam

“He was pretty drunk by the time I got there. He started in with some story about hearing that the rock star Zack Maloy used to live nearby, and I figured out who he was pretty fast.” “What?” Carly‟s back stiffened. “You knew Harrison already?” “Not really. After Zack‟s accident, I requested all the reports—the police report, the ones from the fire chief and the medical examiner.” Pain shot through his gaze, and he swallowed. “I wanted to know exactly what happened. The reports told me almost everything.” Sam looked away, his gaze going to the picture of his wife and kids hanging behind his desk. He crossed his legs and fingered the hem of his navy pants. “It‟s pretty awful, knowing your own brother caused someone else‟s death.” “Zack? He what— Who else died?” “Harrison‟s best friend. Leo Gibb. After I read the reports, I went to the hospital where both Zack and Leo were taken, asked around. Once I found out Harrison was one of the EMTs who brought Zack in, it didn‟t take long to piece the whole story together.” Carly dropped back, letting Sam‟s words sink in. “You didn‟t know this?” he asked. “No.” Sam dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward. “There‟s a bit more I should probably tell you.”

***** Still spinning from her conversation with Sam, Carly turned into her driveway, eased off the gas, and rolled up the gravel drive to her garage. She‟d so completely misread Harrison from the first minute he‟d showed up in her doorway. Worse than that, she‟d done exactly what she hated from others—judged someone solely on appearance and personal connections.

63

Isabelle Drake

And, after hearing what Sam found out about the night of the accident, she knew Harrison‟s world had been torn apart. She‟d seen glimpses of his pain, but the whole time she‟d only been thinking about her anger and resentment. All the while, Harrison had been grieving for his best friend. A man he tried to revive but couldn‟t. Carly felt like absolute crap. No wonder Harrison had packed up and left without saying goodbye. She deserved nothing less. But she wanted more. Like the chance to apologize, for starters. She pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. There wasn‟t anyone she could call about this. She‟d done it to herself. Leena would be a patient listener, but Carly really didn‟t want to explain what she‟d done—taken her resentment out on a man grieving for his best friend. Mostly out of habit, she sent Jasmine a cheerful message. Hey! Hope everything is going great. All’s well here. Of course it was pretty much a lie, but maybe she could make Jasmine‟s day a bit better. Carly slid her cell into her purse and climbed out. As she crossed to her back door, she spotted a pile of fresh, brown dirt near her new flower garden. No deliveries were due. Did the landscape supply get her address mixed up with another farm? Expecting to see the freshly turned and prepared patch of earth just as she‟d left it, she headed across the yard, the hem of her dress whipping around her knees. As she got closer, she made out a pair of tracks, so deep and wide they could only be made by a tractor. The pile of dirt wasn‟t actually a pile, but a high ridge caused by a new hole right in the middle of her garden. All those hours of turning and smoothing, carefully mixing in peat moss and organic fertilizer. The careful placement of bulbs and tubers. Torn up. Carly reached the edge of the garden. At the end of the tracks sat her father‟s tractor, its front end rammed into the thick, sturdy trunk of the oak tree where Jasmine

64

Letting Off Steam

used scare her to death by climbing into the highest branches. Beside her father‟s tractor stood Harrison, hands busy pulling on the engine. She picked up speed, jogging across the grass. “You‟re here,” she said, her breath tight. “I thought you‟d left.” “I did.” He sighed and kicked the giant tire. “But I came back because I said I‟d make it run. And I did. Electrical problem. Fixed that. But apparently I needed to make it stop too.” Carly reached for his arm, tried to pull him to her. But he stayed put, staring at the tractor. Her apology stuck in her throat, none of the words she wanted to say would come out. Finally, she forced them out. “Harrison? I‟m sorry, I—” He turned, their gazes connected and the words stopped.

“It‟s my bad habit of doing what I say I‟m going to do,” Harrison said, looking back at the tractor as he let Carly pull him away from it. “Thanks,” she said. “Sure. Now all I need to fix are the brakes. That won‟t take long.” Finally, he let himself look at her. Strands of her bright hair were blowing across her tanned shoulders, touching her skin lightly. The curves of her breasts showed beneath the light fabric of her yellow dress. She tugged on his arm, her expression uncertain, her eyes cloudy. “No, thanks for coming back.” The grief of losing Leo was still with him, but when he looked at Carly, it lessened. And when she touched him, he felt like possibly, someday, he would be okay again. “I didn‟t really have a choice,” he said, knowing it was more than just a matter of keeping his word. “After I get this tractor out of your yard, I‟m going to go talk to Sam.” “I already did.” She let go of him and took a step back. “And he already knew who you were. He already knew, about…about Leo. He told me everything that happened.”

65

Isabelle Drake

Harrison winced at the memory of those last minutes. Watching Leo gasp for his final breaths. Then, later, agreeing to talk to Zack, even though he knew the arrogant rock star caused his best friend‟s death. The clouds in her eyes cleared and her gaze was purposeful. “I‟m sorry I treated you like that. It was really, really wrong.” He shrugged. “You didn‟t know.” “I know now.” She came back to him and took both his hands. He moved toward her, craving the strength and complete acceptance she offered. Looking up at him from under her lashes, she said with a smile, “I think there‟s something else you forgot to do.” “What‟s that?” “You promised to make love to me in a bed. In my bed.” Leave it to her to find a way to make his least favorite character trait work in his favor. “I guess I did say that.” “Yes, you did.” She took a step backward, toward her house. His feet wouldn‟t move. “Carly? I‟m still kind of a mess. I don‟t think I have much to offer.” A sweet, sexy smile slanted across her mouth. “Yes, you do. Come with me, and I‟ll show you.”

Her bedroom was a combination of flowers and plaid. It looked to Harrison like it had all been thrown together, but it was probably some carefully thought-out decorating style. “You‟ve never seen a girl‟s bedroom before?” she asked, smiling at his expression as she took a black box out of her bedside drawer. With quick sharp movements, she shook a condom out. “Guess it‟s been a while.”

66

Letting Off Steam

“Let me help you feel welcome.” She kicked off her flip-flops then set the small square packet on the table. She untied the straps of her dress, and it pooled at her feet. Her bare breasts were round and firm, each tight nipple peaked. His mouth watered as he watched her come forward, her breasts bouncing as she moved. Wearing only her yellow panties, she reached out and peeled his t-shirt over his head. Once she tossed it to the floor, she leaned in to rub her pretty nipples across his bare chest. His dick was already hard, so when she unsnapped his pants and shoved them down, his shaft sprang out, jutting straight ahead. The world fell away, and there was only Carly and his all-consuming need. He grabbed her, pulling her body to his as he headed for her bed, kicking his jeans off as he went. The two of them fell onto the bed, his briefs and her panties the only thing between them as he rolled her over, so he was on top, dominating and setting the pace. Still more blood flowed to his impossibly stiff cock, and she wiggled beneath him, spreading her legs and rubbing her mound against his sensitive tip. The citrus scent he‟d noticed the other day in the barn drifted up to him, and he realized how badly he‟d been wanting to be on top of Carly, feeling her strong body beneath him. But he wanted more than just a physical connection—he wanted her to want him. Determined to please her, he shifted down and took one of her nipples into his mouth, breathing deeply as he flicked his tongue across the tight peak. She responded, arching her back and pushing more of her sweet flesh into his mouth. Whimpering, she reached down and tugged on her panties, her whole body shivering as she struggled to pull them off. Harrison lifted his mouth and spoke over her wet skin. “I‟ll take care of those.” A trail of kisses pressed against her smooth skin led the way to her navel, then to the soft hair covering her mound. Harrison pulled off her panties, tugged off his briefs, then positioned himself between her legs. Her sex was open to him, glistening, and he traced the outside curves of her pussy with his tongue. When she shifted, trying to get his tongue on her clit, he slid his hands under her hips and held her ass firmly in place.

67

Isabelle Drake

The muscles in her hips relaxed, and he lowered his mouth again, stroking and caressing her wet folds. The tension in her hips came back, and he felt her working to spread her legs, silently begging him to stop circling her clit. Finally, he gave her what she wanted, a series of quick flicks across her needy flesh. She writhed and murmured something, but whatever she was trying to say was too soft. She tried again, but her words were interrupted by her uneven breathing, now coming in heavy pants. Harrison pulled his hands from beneath her hips and caressed the smooth, pale skin of her thighs. Her muscles twitched and her hips jerked. After pressing a row of kisses down to her knee, he took one last look at her long, lean legs and beautiful, slick folds. He moved up, slowing to suck on each pink nipple. Her heart thumped beneath his mouth, matching the heavy rhythm of his own. After slipping on the condom, he held himself over her, the tip of his cock pressing solidly against her soft, wet pussy. He felt her reach for him, taking his shaft in one hand and his balls in her other. Quick, sharp pressure ran through his body in pulsing currents, and he had to pull air in through his teeth to keep from exploding in her hands. He wasn‟t going to let himself go until she‟d had her release. “Put your hands above your head,” he said, catching the wicked gleam in her eyes. She continued stroking him, her fingertips skimming over his tight skin, circling his cock and then gliding down again. Everywhere she touched flashed hot with an electric current. His balls tightened and pulled back, readying his shaft for deep, steady thrusts. Balancing on one arm, he reached down and swept her hands away. She laughed, the sound husky and low, vibrating throughout her body. One leg at a time, she wrapped her thighs around him, opening herself fully, inviting his hard thrusts. He entered her as slowly as he could manage, easing into her tight core. The slick walls of her channel pressed against his cock, caressing every hard inch of his dick. He continued pressing in until he was completely inside, and they were one. Their bodies were an absolute match and the perfection consumed him. He held still, feeling her uneven breath whisper across his skin, her lean legs hold him tight, and

68

Letting Off Steam

her hot, wet pussy welcoming him inside. His body ached to give Carly pleasure, and he began rocking into her, pulling out and then driving in with precise strokes. She wrapped her arms around his back, clinging to him, matching his thrusts with the movement of her body. The first flickers of his orgasm came too fast. He gritted his teeth, holding back his own excitement until the soft whimpers of her release started to whisper from her lips. Her smooth channel tightened around him, squeezing the first spurts of cum from his tip and making it impossible to control the speed of his movements. He pumped faster, gliding in and out of her body with jerky swings. Carly‟s body was tense, her muscles coiled tight as her orgasm tore through her. Harrison left himself go, driving into her, holding her tight, and breathing in her sweet acceptance. His cock pulsed, cum shot out, the ejaculation so fierce his balls twitched. As the waves of his ejaculation began to ease, he lifted himself up, taking in the glistening perfection of Carly‟s body as the final edges of her release washed over her. She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with satisfaction and, if he wasn‟t mistaken, happiness. He grinned back and kissed her softly on the mouth.

Carly laid her head on Harrison‟s chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart. After several minutes, she said, “I really am sorry about the way I treated you. I wish I‟d been—well, not such a bitch.” A rumble of laughter shook his chest. “You weren‟t that bad.” “Yes, I was.” “Okay, if you say so.” He paused and pulled the floral quilt over their bare legs. “I was in rough shape for a while. After Leo‟s funeral I stopped answering my phone, threw away my mail instead of opening it, and everything got worse from there.” Carly propped herself up on one elbow and rested her palm on his chest. “What happened?” “I kind of quit my job.” 69

Isabelle Drake

She made circles on his chest with her fingertips. “Kind of quit? How‟s that possible?” “I got myself fired by showing up to work stinking of whiskey.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Guess people don‟t trust somebody who smells like they‟re still drunk from the night before.” “You going back? Try to get your job? They‟d understand what you were going through.” Harrison set his arm across Carly, his hand resting on her hip. “No. It‟s time for something else.” “Like what?” “I‟ve always had hands-on jobs. I was a cook while in EMT school, and a mechanic before that, and—” “You were a mechanic?” “Yep. Trained by the best, my uncle. Fully certified.” Carly wiggled out from under his arm, shot out of bed, and grabbed her phone. Standing before him, naked and vulnerable, she asked, “You interested in staying around here?” Harrison‟s gaze swept up her body and lingered on her breasts. “Can we throw away that cougar shirt?” “I thought you liked this shirt?” she said, lifting it off the dresser. “I do. If you have to keep it, how about you just wear it around me?” Answering with a smirk, she hit Leena‟s number. Her friend answered after three rings. After a quick hello, Carly asked, “Is Adam still looking for a mechanic?” “He could actually use two. Why, do you have one hiding under your bed?” Carly laughed. “Never mind where he is. Okay if he comes down to fill out an application?” Her friend‟s reply was instant. “Yes. Please. Can you send him right now?”

70

Letting Off Steam

Harrison‟s cock was beginning to jut upward again. “Not right now. Maybe in about an hour.” Leena cleared her throat and said, “Sounds like you have some explaining to do.” Carly caught her reflection in her dresser mirror. She and Leena had been friends so long, the other woman could probably hear Carly‟s glow. “I know. And I will, I promise.” “I‟ll tell Adam to watch for your mechanic in about an hour.” Carly clicked off, tossed the phone onto the rug, then dug another condom from the box. Did she have to tell Jasmine how many she‟d used? Harrison put it on, and she slid back between the covers. “I was right about you,” Harrison said, lifting Carly up and sitting her on top of his erect shaft. “Oh, yeah?” She looked him over, taking in the hard curves of his strong body as she started to move back and forth. “How‟s that?” “You‟re not a fling-type woman.” “No. I‟m not.” She quickened her pace, rocking against him with quick, deliberate strokes. “Think you can handle that?” Harrison‟s reply was husky but sure. “I know I can.”

71

About the Author Thrill-seeking risk takers, heroes with a dark past, sexy locales, untamed women! Isabelle Drake writes stories featuring men and women who aren‟t afraid to go after what they want. An avid traveler, she‟ll go just about anywhere—at least once—to meet people and get story ideas.

Isabelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Isabelle Drake Ellora‟s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy IV anthology Everglades Wildfire Fate Unbound Hard Fall Roughneck by Request Show and Tell Undone by the Undead

Print books by Isabelle Drake Cowboy for Hire Ellora‟s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy IV anthology Everglades Wildfire Hard Hats, Hard Bodies anthology Satisfaction Guaranteed

Discover for yourself why readers can‟t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora‟s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

www.ellorascave.com