by Pamela Clare
“I bet that was the easiest job interview ever. ‘How well do you ski?’ ‘Ever heard of the Himalayas?’”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that was pretty much it.”
She drew back, looked up at him. “When do you start?”
“I’ll be taking an EMT refresher course next week. There’s a ton of paperwork to fill out. Training starts in early November.”
The oven timer began to beep.
He walked over to the oven. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving. I need to run upstairs and clean up. I was just wiping up dog pee.”
“I’ll handle this. You do what you need to do.”
She hurried upstairs, washed her face and hands, put on moisturizer and a little mascara, and then looked in her closet. She was about to put on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater when she saw the red beaded dress she’d worn to Rain and Joe’s wedding.
No. No, she couldn’t wear that for dinner in her own house.
Why not?
She stripped to her skin, put on the red silk bra and panties she’d worn with it, then took the dress from her hanger, unzipped it, and pulled it over her head. She tugged up the hidden side zipper, fixed her hair into a quick messy bun, put on a pair of pearl earrings, then looked in the mirror, smiling at her reflection.
“Just try to resist this, Harrison.”
She bent down to fluff her boobs, tucked a condom inside her bra, and then made her way downstairs.
Harrison was pouring wine. He looked up, saw her, and stared, his eyes going dark. “Oh, hell, yes. I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you in this dress since I saw you in that photo.”
She pointed at the wine glass, trying not to laugh. “It’s overflowing.”
“Shit.” He stopped pouring. “See what you do to me?”
It thrilled her to know she turned him on. “It’s no more than what you do to me.”
When the spilled wine was cleaned up, they sat at the table. Harrison helped with her chair as if they were at a fancy restaurant and then served the meal he’d made—salmon fillets, jasmine rice, and green beans with almonds.
“It smells wonderful.”
“It’s a recipe my mom used to make—salmon fillets with sundried tomatoes, feta cheese, and kalamata olives.” He lifted a fillet onto her plate and followed that with a scoop of rice and another of the green beans.
Kenzie took her first bite of the salmon, the bright taste of tomato combining with the saltiness of the cheese and olives and the fattiness of the fish. “Delicious.”
“You like it?” There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
He truly wanted to please her.
Her heart gave a little sigh. “I love it.”
While they ate, she asked him about his job interview and the rest of his day and laughed when he told her about his conversation with his neighbor.
“The next thing I knew, she was standing on her front porch yelling at them to leave and threatening to call the sheriff.”
“Good for her! Did it work?”
He took a sip of his wine. “Not really.”
That reminded Kenzie. “Wendy Hall from the Scarlet Gazette stopped by and said she wanted to interview me about my SAR and HRD work in the wake of yesterday’s search. I agreed when she promised to include a fund-raising pitch for the Team. Afterward, she told me what was going on at your place and then asked me to pass a business card on to you.”
Harrison’s expression went black. “She manipulated you to try to reach me.”
“That’s what I thought, too, and I called her on it. She looked completely taken aback by that suggestion, almost hurt, and swore that wasn’t her intention. She said to call her if you want to talk to a reporter who won’t cross your boundaries.”
“She already crossed my boundaries by bothering you with this.”
Kenzie wiped her lips, set her napkin aside, and went to sit on his lap. She cupped his cheek, kissed him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rain on your evening.”
The anger on his face faded, replaced by an altogether different emotion. “Why don’t you come upstairs and let me get you out of that dress?”
Anticipation shivered through her. “I thought you liked this dress.”
He nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Oh, honey, I do. I like everything beneath it, too.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even seen my red silk panties or my bra.”
He moaned, his brow furrowing. “Layers of sexy—is that it?”
“And all for you.”
Conrad nipped her, tasted her, one hand on the curve of her hip, the other cupping her cheek. “I’d carry you upstairs, but I’d rather watch your sweet ass as you walk up the stairs in front of me.”
“Seriously?” She seemed to find this funny.
“All those sweet curves in motion in a skin-tight dress? Hell, yes, I’m serious.”
“Okay, then.” She slipped off his lap, walked toward the stairs, looking back at him over a soft, bare shoulder. “This way, stud.”
She was too damned good to be real.
He was on his feet in an instant, following her, his gaze fixed on the lush wonder of her ass, the sway of her hips, her narrow waist. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, he was hard—and horny as hell.
He took the top two stairs in a single stride, backed her up against the wall just outside her bedroom, his mouth coming down on hers in a rough kiss. She threw her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, kissing him back with an intensity that matched his own, challenging him for control.
Without breaking the kiss, he reached down, dragged up her gown in fistfuls, until she was exposed to her hips. Without a word, she parted her thighs for him, and his fingers found their way inside her panties.
Oh, fuck, yes.
She was already wet.
“I’ve got a condom.” She reached inside her bra, drew out a packet.
“God, you’re amazing.”
He jerked down his fly, rolled the condom onto his cock, and lifted her off her feet, pinning her against the wall with his weight. Then he reached down with one hand, moved aside the crotch of her panties, and guided himself inside her.
Their gazes met and held as he started to move, fucking her fast and deep and hard, the pleasure he felt reflected in her blue eyes. Being inside her, seeing the effect he had on her, letting her see what she was doing to him—the erotic intimacy of it sent a jolt to his chest.
“Kenzie.” His sweet Kenzie.
Her eyes drifted shut, her next exhale becoming a moan.
She felt so good, so unbelievably good, and he worried he would come before she did. Then she reached down with one hand to stroke herself, turning him on so much that his mouth started talking without any help from his brain. “Stroke that sweet clit. God, Kenzie. Come for me. Come around my cock.”
His control in shreds, he drove into her now, rough and reckless. He wanted her, wanted all of her, wanted to please her.
She gasped, arched, cried out, bliss golden on her face.
Almost beyond conscious thought, Conrad fucked her with the full force of his desire, climax overtaking him in a rush of ecstasy.
Caught somewhere between heaven and earth, he stayed as he was, deep inside her, his body still pinning her to the wall, their heartbeats slowly returning to normal. It was Kenzie who spoke first.
“That was … amazing.” She kissed him. “I love the way you overwhelm me.”
“Yeah?” Conrad’s surge of masculine pride was cut short by a puppy whine. He looked down to see Gabby and Gizmo on the stairs, watching them. “Is it okay for them to see this?”
Kenzie laughed. “Are you embarrassed?”
“Maybe.” He reached down, took hold of the condom, and withdrew from her, lowering her gently to her feet. “I’m not used to an audience.”
She smoothed her gown back into place. “I’ll put them to bed—provided I can walk. Come on, Gizmo. Come, Gabby. It’s
bedtime.”
While she settled the dogs for the night, Conrad washed up in the bathroom, still in a post-orgasmic stupor. He didn’t know what it was about Kenzie that got to him. He’d had lots of women in his life, beautiful women, athletic women, and none of them had touched him the way Kenzie did.
She was waiting for him in the bedroom, lying in a seductive pose on her side, a dream in red beaded silk. “Undress.”
Much to Conrad’s surprise, he felt the first stirrings of renewed desire.
The woman was living Viagra.
He indulged her, holding her gaze while he shed his sports jacket, tugged his turtleneck over his head, slowly unzipped his jeans, and tossed them aside with his boxer briefs. “Is this better?”
“You’re ticking my fantasies off pretty quickly. I’m going to have to come up with some new ones.”
He wanted to hear more.
He sat on the edge of the bed behind her, his fingers seeking her zipper. “Tell me about these fantasies.”
“We just fulfilled one of them. And when you carried me into the bedroom—that was a big one.”
“What’s left?” He pulled down the zipper, slid his hand inside the gown to cup her breast through the silk and lace of her bra.
She seemed to hesitate.
“Come on, now.” He peeled the gown from her body, tossed it onto a nearby chair, and took in the sight of her in her red bra and panties. “Don’t get all shy. Five minutes ago, I was inside you.”
“You could tie me to the bed.”
Holy hell.
Her words hit Conrad in the solar plexus. “You would like that?”
“I’ve never tried it. But no real pain or anything.”
“I can get on board with that.” He leaned down, kissed a path along her shoulder to her neck. “What else?”
“We could do it in front of a mirror so I can see your cock sliding inside me.”
Another shock to the solar plexus—and blood rushed to his groin.
“We can do that—someday.” He pushed her onto her back, straddled her, and jerked down her bra to expose those beautiful breasts, his cock half-hard already. “Tonight, we’re fulfilling my fantasy—the one where I go down on you until I’ve memorized your taste and you’re so exhausted from coming again and again that you fall asleep with my mouth still on you.”
Her body tensed, her pupils dilating, the breath leaving her lungs in a slow exhale. “I like that fantasy.”
He grinned. “Well, hold on, honey, because here it comes.”
An hour later, Kenzie lay exhausted against Harrison’s chest, her heartbeat slowing, her body languid. She had always loved sex, but this felt new to her—the intensity of it, the intimacy, the happiness she felt afterward.
It took some effort, but she managed to say what she was thinking. “I didn’t know it could be this good.”
“Yeah,” he said sleepily. “Me, neither.”
Kenzie snuggled closer to Harrison, the sound of a puppy’s whining penetrating her sleep. She opened her eyes, saw daylight, sat bolt upright.
Ten minutes past seven.
Had she forgotten to set her alarm?
“Damn.” She jumped out of bed, grabbed her bathrobe, and hurried down the stairs to let the pups out. “Sorry, Gabby. I didn’t mean to make you hold it so long.”
She watched while they did their thing, sending Quinn a message telling her that she would be late—again. Then she called the dogs back inside to get their breakfast.
Conrad appeared at the bottom of the stairs looking incredibly hot in butter-soft jeans and no shirt, his short hair sticking up in every direction. “Did you forget to set your alarm?”
She set two bowls of kibble on the floor. “I blame you—and your tongue.”
He came up behind her, drew her back against the hard wall of his chest. “It’s not the tongue, honey. It’s the lips. You can’t do much with a tongue. Sure, you can stroke and lick and penetrate, but it gets tired fast. If you want to make a woman scream, you’ve got to use your lips—catch that clit, pull it into your mouth, suck on it.”
Holy God.
Kenzie’s knees turned to jelly. “Don’t do this to me. I have to go to work. I’ll be horny all day, and I have a class tonight. That makes for a very long day.”
He chuckled, a deep, husky sound. “Call in sick.”
Oh, the idea was tempting. “I do come home for lunch.”
“You’re thinking about a nooner?”
“Are you up for that?”
“Hell, I’m up whenever I’m with you.” He nudged her with his hips, revealing his erection. “You name the time and the place.”
“How about here at noon?” No, that wouldn’t work. “That’s when you meditate with Esri, isn’t it?”
He nuzzled her ear. “I’d rather be inside you.”
Again with the knees turning to jelly.
She sank back against him, her body singing for him. “I need to get into the shower and get to work.”
A big hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing a nipple through her robe. “I’m not stopping you.”
“Like hell, you’re not, mister.” With supreme effort—she deserved a medal for this—she pulled away from him, turning to plant a kiss on his lips. “But hold onto the thought, okay?”
Before he could say another word, she darted upstairs to take a shower.
Forty-five minutes later, she entered the kennel, where Quinn was playing with the dogs in the play yard. “Sorry.”
Quinn smiled, her gaze on Kenzie’s backyard. “Don’t apologize. If I had a hunk like that in my bed, I’d be late, too.”
Kenzie looked over to see Harrison standing on her back porch, still shirtless, playing with Gabby. The sight put a flutter in her belly. “Yeah.”
As much as her ovaries wanted her to go home and jump Harrison’s bones, there was work to be done. She picked up dog poo in the play yard and was in the middle of cleaning dog bowls when Quinn appeared, a big smile on her face, a copy of the Scarlet Gazette in her hands.
“Look at this. You made the front page.” Quinn held out the paper.
“This is Scarlet Springs. The weather makes the front page.” Kenzie took the paper and saw a photo of herself and Gizmo beneath a big headline.
Scentsational: Local woman trains dogs for search & rescue work.
She sat with a cup of coffee and glanced through it, pleased to see that Wendy had quoted her correctly and hadn’t sensationalized her job or mentioned her relationship with Harrison. As far as Kenzie was concerned, this was proof that Wendy hadn’t done this story to get to him.
Quinn had managed to find another copy and sat nearby reading it. “This is fantastic. This is going to bring you lots of business.”
“That would be nice.” In the meantime, there were kennels to clean.
Kenzie set the paper aside and got back to work. But by ten, five people had stopped by the kennel and the store with copies of the paper just to make sure she’d seen it, including Rose, who asked about Harrison.
“I hear the two of you are serious.”
Kenzie didn’t take the bait. “Well, you can’t believe all the gossip.”
Rose had just turned to go when there came the sound of sirens, several sheriff’s vehicles racing, one after the other, through the roundabout and speeding up the canyon. “That looks like every deputy in the county—and Boulder police, too.”
But Kenzie wasn’t thinking about that.
In the center of the roundabout, Bear was hunched over, hands covering his ears. She couldn’t see his face from here, but she could tell he was afraid.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” She jogged over to the roundabout, where Bear still held his hands over his ears. “Hey, Bear, are you okay?”
Most of his face was covered with a shaggy gray beard, but she could see the fear in his eyes. “The sirens are loud.”
“Yes, they are, but they can’t hurt you. It’s just noise. Those deputies are rushin
g somewhere to try to help someone.”
Bear took this in, but she could see he wasn’t convinced.
“Why don’t you come with me to the kennel and play with the dogs?” She’d brought him there before when it was cold or raining.
Winona Belcourt, whose animal sanctuary was a block away from the kennel, did the same thing. Between the two of them—and Eric Hawke’s crew at Scarlet FD—they made sure Bear had shelter.
Bear smiled, lowering his hands, the sirens now distant. “I like dogs.”
“I know. Come.”
Chapter 16
Conrad’s morning went to shit not long after Kenzie left for work. He had just come back inside from letting Gabby romp in the backyard when Candace called.
“You’re making it hard for me to help you. Have you been online?”
“Hey, Candace.” Why did the woman never start with hello? “No, I haven’t.”
“Let me read you some of the trending headlines from the climbing world.” This was obviously the reason she’d called. “‘What is Harrison Conrad hiding?’ ‘Conrad calls sheriff on editor of climbing webzine.’ ‘World’s greatest alpinists loses his nerve, quits.’”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“This is what happens when you let them make up the news.”
“You’re blaming me because people are posting bullshit about me online?”
“You need to do those interviews. You’ll put the lies to rest and get the media people off your back. If you don’t want the money, put up a memorial for your friend.”
Everest was Bruce’s memorial—and Felix and Luka’s, too.
“Or you could donate it to that monastery where you hid for all of those months.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“Yes, you were. You didn’t want to face what had happened, so you holed up at the monastery. I don’t blame you. I know you and Bruce were close.” The very way she said it seemed dismissive to Conrad. “But he’s gone, and he wouldn’t want you to implode like this.”
Conrad bit back an angry reply. “You know nothing about him.”
“You hired me to manage your career, and I’m telling you that it is essential for you to do those interviews and appease your sponsors—unless you really are committed to destroying yourself.”
