Hearts in Harmony

by Gemma Brocato

  Clearing her throat, she dragged her mind back to their conversation. “I wish all my clients were this easy. I also work at Woodward State Hospital. Some of the teens aren’t nearly as cooperative. One in particular.” She sighed. “Last time I saw him, I had to resist the temptation to bang the drum on his head. Even my security escort mentioned he’d been uglier than usual.”

  Concern crossed Clay’s face like a storm cloud. “Do you have many clients there? At Woodward? That’s for juveniles isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Some are worse than others. Whenever I’m working with troubled kids I request an escort. I usually request reassignment to another therapist when I can’t seem to get through to the client. Sometimes, change is the ticket to success.”

  “Some kids, some people, wouldn’t recognize a lifeline if it hit them in their damn heads. If someone makes you uncomfortable you should ask to be transferred off the case.”

  “I hate to give up on anyone, especially a kid. But sometimes you have to. I have one kid who refuses to accept help and worships his crazy dad. A man who abused him and his mother physically and verbally for the past fourteen years.”

  Clay made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and leaned his head against the back of the bench. “I’ll never understand what makes a man hit a woman or a child. The whole idea turns my stomach.”

  “I’m afraid it happens more than we’d like to believe.”

  “You’re never alone with the kid’s dad, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I haven’t met him. I’m not even sure of his name. Since Daniel is a juvenile, I only see treatment records. All personal information is redacted. Their schedules are pretty regimented, so families and therapists rarely cross paths. Unless I request a meeting with a parent, I never run into them. In this case, I’m happy about that.”

  “Do you like working there? At Woodward?”

  “Yeah, I like the teens. Working with them gives me a different sense of achievement. They’re just as broken as my medical clients, so when I see them turn a corner for the good, it’s a high point for me. Helping them get positive results never gets old.” Pippa leaned her head against his arm, smiling into his eyes.

  Squeezing her shoulder, Clay dropped his other hand possessively on her upper thigh as he shifted to face her. His green eyes glinted emerald in the afternoon sunshine, alluring, captivating. Pippa lost herself in the depths of them, all thoughts except the need for him to kiss her flying away, like leaves scattering in the wind.

  He inclined his head toward the gift shop behind them and whispered, “I wish I dared sneak a kiss right now. I doubt it would be wise though, with your kids and my mother sitting on the other side of that window. Someone is bound to see us and that would let the cat out of the bag in a big way.” He searched her eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to her lips. “God knows I haven’t been able to think of anything else since last night. I want to start at your lips, then work my way south.”

  He smiled at her surprised gasp. His mouth hovered over hers, mere inches separating them, their breath mingling.

  She parted her lips and let her tongue dart out, moistening the sudden dryness. She swayed in his direction, her breasts brushing his chest, igniting a flame low in her womb. “God, Clay! How can you turn me into a bundle of need with words? Just words,” she whispered. Bemused, she shook her head and admitted, “I didn’t sleep much last night thinking about your goodnight kiss.”

  He tangled his fingers in the short curls at the back of her head, exerting gentle pressure, moving her closer. But still didn’t press his lips to hers. She was close enough to see the golden flecks decorating the green of his eyes, like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Her breath quickened as his finger massaged her scalp sensuously.

  He broke eye contact with her as he shifted to whisper into her ear, his words tickling. “I want to come over tonight. After the kids are settled. I want to show you where my dreams of you take me.”

  Excitement raced like electricity through her at the thought of him in her bed. She could barely speak over the humming of her body his words had created. “They’ll be in bed by eight.”

  “I’ll be there by ten.”

  15

  Pippa took a sip of her wine and then set the glass down with a ringing clank. She’d poured a tall drink, hoping to ease the nerves masquerading in her stomach as the jumping beans Mason had gotten from his cousin last Christmas. Rolling, popping, leaping…quivering. She’d been jittery since she’d loaded the kids into the car at the Sleepy T tree farm and looked up to see smoldering promise in Clay’s eyes.

  Each time she imagined his hard, lean body covering hers, her heart thundered like the William Tell Overture. Once she’d put the kids to bed, it got worse. She’d tried to distract herself with mundane chores, tidying up around the house, picking up toys and school bags, preparing lunches for the next day, straightening the kitchen. Nothing worked to override her wary, giddy anticipation.

  She picked up her wine again and took a gulp, barely registering the rich, spicy taste as it slid down her throat. The knock at the back door startled her, overly loud in her quiet house. Pressing her hand against her stomach, where the jumping escalated, she took another big sip before setting the crystal aside. Walking to the door, she snapped the light on, illuminating Clay.

  Frozen in place by his eager look, she forgot her intention was to unlock the door and invite him in. Well, not so much forgot as debated. The nerves playing in her stomach reached a crescendo as she put her hand on the knob. Opening the kitchen door to this man meant she’d be opening her bedroom door to him as well.

  Was she truly ready to take that step?

  There wasn’t going to be anything easy about this relationship. Keeping her children in the dark would complicate an already muddy situation. Could she ignore the fact that Clay would leave as soon as his mom recovered and returned to her home? Knowing without a doubt how his departure would affect her? Could she tamp down the anxiety rising from her certainty that she’d be crossing an ethical line by sleeping with her client’s son? Clay didn’t seem to consider it unethical, and Seeley probably wouldn’t either, if she knew what Pip had planned.

  As much as she wanted someone else to make the decision for her, it boiled down to her choice. The attractive, eager man on the other side of the door made it a bit easier. This was Clay, a man she’d only just met, but felt as though she knew. His interactions with his mother and Mason and Mia had shown him to be a kind, caring man, in spite of the gruff, no-nonsense, hard image he projected. There was a sweet, gooey center to him, and bits of that man kept sneaking through to charm her. She rested her hand on the doorknob.

  They stared at each through the window for a long moment, until Clay shifted and she remembered her manners. Straightening her shoulders, she thumbed the lock open and backed away from the door, without opening it. The look on Clay’s face turned questioning when he reached for the handle, as if he understood what a leap this was for her.

  Clay stepped through and turned to close it before facing her. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. A little nervous, I guess.”

  “Pippa, we don’t have to do this,” he said, his look somber as he reached out to rub his thumb on her cheek. “You could just make me coffee and we could talk.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Hell no! What I want, what I’m dying to do is take you in my arms and kiss the shit out of you. I want, no, I need to bury myself so far in you, I ache with it.” Unmistakable desire hummed in his voice.

  She smiled, seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood. “You know, except for the language, that was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “I don’t think as clearly as I should when I have other things on my mind. What do you need?”

  She responded from her heart in a way she didn’t know she could. “I don’t need anything. I just…want.”

  Reaching past him, she shut off the porch
light and relocked the door before taking his hand. The familiar jolt of electricity at his touch traveled up her arm and lodged under her heart, accelerating it to the point of painful.

  Clay brought his hand up to the pulse pounding erratically in her throat, measuring, assessing. The corners of his lips quirked into a crooked grin as he pulled her hand to his chest and pressed it flat against the center. Her gaze flew to his, the staccato pace of his heart shocking her. He held her gaze with the intensity of his, the smile on his lips reaching his eyes, turning them sea-glass green. If she had to drown, she’d like to do it in his eyes.

  Clay stroked her throat soothingly. “You’re not the only one who’s nervous here.”

  She twisted her hand in his and tugged, drawing him toward the stairs, and what waited for them up that short flight. They climbed together, side-by-side in silence.

  When they reached the top, Clay stopped, turned to face her and put his hands on her hips, drawing her close. “You’re sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind,” he whispered.

  In answer, she took a step nearer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his head down. Slanting her lips across his, she answered his question, licking along the seam of his mouth. It didn’t take much—just one languorous lap before he’d sucked her tongue into his mouth, welcoming her there. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her nearer with an urgency he’d hidden. He deepened the kiss, his hands roaming her spine from hip to shoulder. She tightened her grip, attempting to merge her body with his through their layers of clothes.

  Frustrated that she couldn’t get as close to him as she’d like, she broke the kiss and took one step backward, then another. She kept going until she reached the door to the twins’ room. After a glance to assure herself they still slept, she eased the door shut with a quiet snick. And looked at Clay, who stood rooted to the floor.

  The look on his face bordered on incendiary, igniting her nerves into an inferno of trembling need. Her lips quivered as she smiled, and it took concentrated effort to raise her arm and crook her finger.

  Clay leaped from his spot and was at her side in two strides. Locking his lips to hers, he cupped his hands on her butt and pulled her close, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her belly.

  He pulled his mouth from hers long enough to whisper, “Your room, now. Or I’ll start taking off your clothes right here.”

  She stifled a giggle, then gasped when he thrust his hips at her and moved his hands to the button on her jeans. Oh God! He was serious. He’d have her naked and on the floor in front of her kids’ room if she didn’t move. Brushing his steady fingers away, she seized his hand and led him the short distance to her bedroom, pulling him in, shutting the door and twisting the lock.

  She’d left the lamp on the bedside table lit and light pooled on the pillows scattered across the queen-sized bed, casting shadows around the rest of the room. When she faced Clay, his eyes glittered in the twilight glow as he held his hand out to her. Slipping her fingers between his, she led him to the foot of the bed, where he took her in his arms and sprinkled kisses over her cheeks and forehead before lingering on her mouth. She was breathless by the time he ended the contact and stepped away to pull his shirttails from his jeans.

  Moving to the side of the bed, she followed suit, unbuttoning her sweater and dropping it on the floor next to the bed. She stood before him in her jeans and the lacy pink bra she’d put on just for him. She’d sorted through her underwear drawer after her kids fell asleep, choosing lingerie she considered alluring and sexy. Her options had been woefully few—she really hadn’t needed that kind of undergarment in a long time. She’d picked carefully from the small selection, looking for something to boost her confidence.

  He moved to stand on the other side of the bed, letting her do this for herself. Lowering her hands to the snap on her jeans, she froze, mesmerized by the sight of Clay sweeping his t-shirt over his head. He stretched powerful arms upward, muscles shifting with the effort. She eagerly drank in the sight of broad shoulders, lightly furred chest and the sculpted ridges marching down his abdomen. His pants rode low and she could see the indentation of muscles on his hips. Elastic from his briefs peeked tantalizingly over the top of his jeans. Her gaze followed the path of dark blond hair covering his chest to the top of his waistband, where it disappeared from sight.

  She crossed her arms over her stomach, overwhelmed by insecurity. Her shape, while good, seemed almost dumpy in comparison to the physical perfection of his. Oh God, she hadn’t thought about getting naked with someone as beautifully made as Clay. She should have left the light off. It had been ages since she’d been in this position with any man.

  Ruthlessly squashing the sense of inadequacy slithering up her spine, she lifted her chin and dropped her arms to her sides. She was in good shape, for a woman who’d given birth to twins and spent most of her days sitting with mobility-challenged patients. She knew the picture wasn’t as pretty as it had been when she’d been eighteen, but she was twice the woman she’d been at that age. Raising her gaze, she caught Clay staring at her across the bed, the hunger in his eyes almost feral in its intensity.

  “You’re thinking too much. I can see it.”

  “It’s just that I haven’t been naked in front of a man in…well, in a long time.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. You’re perfect, just as you are.” His shoes thudded softly on the carpet as he kicked them off and knelt on the bed. Crawling forward, he didn’t break eye contact. “Come here,” he demanded, a smile easing the command in his voice.

  Doubt kept her feet rooted to the spot until Clay reached the center of the bed and paused, the look in his eyes willing her to meet him halfway.

  “Don’t think, Pippa. Just feel. Just need.”

  Shrugging, she braced her knees on the bed and edged forward. When she met him in the middle, he put his arms around her and lowered his lips, drawing her into a tender kiss. The solid warmth of his chest seared her the way the sun did after lying on a beach in the summer. Hot, welcome. He walked his fingers lightly over her ribs, making her muscles twitch, before pressing his palm flat at the small of her back, the sultry sensation relaxing her.

  Clay scooped her up, never breaking the kiss. He laid her back on the pillows and stretched out alongside, tangling their legs together. And still, he kissed her…taking her deeper, moving her from thinking to feeling. His lips were insistent, soft but firm against hers, telling her without words how beautiful he found her, how desirable.

  Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulled him closer, pressing her breasts to his bare chest. The slide of his warm skin washed away her reservations like a gentle rain. When he teased her lower lip with his teeth, she sighed her way into an easy grin. Clay capitalized by slipping his tongue between her lips and letting it play on hers.

  Shifting her hips to get closer to him, she drove his knee higher between her thighs and gasped, melting at the sharp friction of their jeans rubbing together, reveling in the pressure at the apex of her thighs. Clay groaned and rolled over her, pressing her into the mattress and covering her body. And kissed her still, his lips never leaving hers, never breaking contact.

  Letting her hands roam his back at will, she drew another groan from Clay when she boldly eased her fingers into his jeans and flexed her fingers into the silky skin of his tight buttocks. He bucked against her, the pressure of his lips against hers changing to frenzied, his tongue driving deeper into her mouth.

  He found her breast and massaged in time with the motion of her hands on his backside, catching her rhythm and mimicking it, driving her crazy. Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the soft moans coming from both of them. Finally lifting his lips, he licked his way down her throat to the top of her breast. Balancing on one elbow, he slid the other arm around her back and released the hooks of her bra with a quiet snick. Rising to his knees, he pulled the straps from her shoulders and tossed
it off the side of the bed, the intense look on his face filled with desire. Covering both breasts with his warm hands, he bent to touch his lips to one tight peak as his lightly calloused thumb circled the other.

  Positioning himself between her spread legs, he lowered his body to hers, his weight a hot blanket against her skin. Her surprised gasp was audible when he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. An answering pull echoed deep in her womb and she pressed her pelvis hard against him, eager for full contact, to feel his hips seated against her intimately, to feel him move in her.

  Pippa worked her hands between them and reached for the button on his jeans. “Clay, I need you now. You’re not the only one aching to feel you buried inside me,” she said, her hand straying to the front of his jeans, molding and pressing.

  Clay sucked his breath in sharply. “You’re killing me, spitfire.”

  He rolled away from her and off the bed, shucking his jeans. He pulled his wallet from the back pocket and dug out several foil packets, which he tossed on the bedside table, before pushing his briefs down his hips and kicking them away.

  As much as she would have liked to just look at his masculine beauty, he didn’t give her a chance. The bed dipped when he knelt and reached for the button on her pants and stripped her jeans off. He slipped his fingers under the lace of her panties, tugged them over her butt and down her thighs and dropped them over the side of the bed. He grabbed her foot with his strong fingers and stroked up her leg to her knee, pressing kisses to her ankle, her calf, lifting her leg to lick behind her knee. His hair had escaped his ponytail when he’d ripped off his shirt, and it tickled and teased her flesh as he moved up. Trailing his fingers along the back of her leg, his hand crept higher. She moaned in anticipation. By the time he reached the spot where her leg joined her hip, she was a trembling mass of eagerness.