The Paternity Pact (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags To Riches Book 3)

by Cat Schield

  Slowly, lazily, as if what she had just gone through left her too spent to move, she lifted her long lashes. Beneath the thick fringe, her dazed green eyes rested on his smug grin. An acknowledging smile tweaked the corner of her lips.

  “You’re incredibly good at that.” As he dusted kisses across her abdomen, she propped herself on one elbow and reached out with her free hand to run her fingers through his mussed hair. “You were my first, you know.”

  Grant’s head jerked up at the confession. “You weren’t a virgin,” he said, certain he would’ve known.

  “No.” She laughed. “But no one had ever gone down on me before.” Her lashes lowered as she watched him. “And I’d never gone down on anyone before you.”

  “I guess you had quite an education that weekend.” He smirked at her, choosing not to remark on how he’d guessed at her lack of experience given how shy and awkward she’d behaved as he’d introduced her to various pleasures.

  “I certainly did.” Suddenly, she twisted from beneath him and, taking advantage of his surprise, rolled him onto his back. “Let’s see if I remember any of the lessons I learned.”

  Her long hair tickled over his shoulders and chest as she trailed her lips over his skin. She toyed with his nipples, coasting her fingertips over them until they peaked and then further stimulating them with the edge of her nails. The enticing discomfort broke open the floodgates of his need, sending what was left of his blood straight to his already painful erection.

  That she knew how much he ached for her was obvious in the way she kept her hands away from where he wanted her touch. If his eyes weren’t shut, no doubt he’d see a sassy smile curving her gorgeous lips. Realizing what he was missing out on, he pried his lids up. She’d shaken her hair back from her face and her gaze was roaming from his expression to his erection.

  Seizing her lower lip between her teeth, she regarded his jutting hard-on with unabashed feminine appreciation. He could see the wheels spinning in her brain, anticipated her next move. Even so, his whole body quaked as her delicate fingers dipped into the damp heat between her thighs before spreading the wetness over him.

  Doubly blown away by the brazenness of her actions and the searing sparks that cascaded through his body as she caught the bead of liquid on a fingertip and circled it over the pulsing head of his erection, blending his arousal with hers, the pressure in him built so rapidly that he nearly lost control.

  He covered the hand that rested on him, clamping down to stop her movements. His thumping heartbeat sent blood slamming through his veins as he struggled to push down his surging need.

  “Stop!” He gasped the word out.

  At the desperation in his voice, her gaze flew to his and held. As if she wanted to mind meld with him in an urgent need to convey all that was in her brain without speaking it out loud. It was at that moment that he recalled how by the end of the weekend they’d come close to reading each other’s thoughts. How he anticipated where on her body she craved his mouth. How she knew exactly what drove him mad.

  But that had been communication between lovers who’d been intimate multiple times over the weekend. It just made sense that they figured each other out. It hadn’t been a connection. That was silly. He didn’t believe in fate or that couples were meant to be. Relationships took work and commitment based on shared values. Some intangible, spiritual bond that made people act like fools...that sort of thing he left to the romantics.

  “Let me do this for you.”

  “Harley.” He reached out to cup her face in his palm. “If you do this...then I can’t...we can’t.”

  “Then later,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a promise as she reached toward the nightstand and the awaiting condom.

  Snagging it with her fingers, she clamped the edge of the foil packet between her teeth and tore it open. Seconds later, she’d straddled him and was rolling the protection on. Grant trailed his fingers along her thigh, over her flat belly and circled her high small breasts, eager for the joining they both wanted so desperately.

  With her gaze glued to his expression, she positioned herself above him. Anticipation licked across his nerve endings as he lifted his hands, palms facing her, fingers spread in invitation. Her lips softened into a breathtaking smile as she meshed her fingers with his, and then lowered herself onto him in a sharp deliberate move that left them both gasping.

  He swore as her snug heat settled around him, hissing the curse through clenched teeth. He’d forgotten how perfect they fit. No, he hadn’t forgotten. He’d blocked it out. To recall the beauty of their connection and the intense, all-consuming hunger that rose up inside him was to leave him grappling with doubt over his decision to push her away all those years earlier.

  “That’s more like it,” she purred, her smile of breathtaking joy awakening a matching happiness inside him.

  She bent down and brushed the sweetest kiss over his lips. Grant’s heart clenched. He’d imagined this moment so many times over the last week and not once had he paused to give tenderness a thought. Passion. Need. Hunger. He’d planned to experience all those things. But his sudden, overwhelming need to cherish and protect left him teetering on a cliff edge with no handhold in sight.

  And then she began to move and he lost himself in the incendiary friction of their joining. Lust radiated through him, incinerating his thoughts as he bucked his hips and drove deeper inside her. Lost in her own pleasure, she threw back her head and moaned.

  “Deeper.” Her torso flushed as the movement of her hips grew frantic and bold. “I love it when you go deeper.”

  So he obliged and she surrendered more of her body to him. He sank his fingers into her butt and drove into her while she matched each thrust with a twist of her hips that launched a series of signal flares through him. Each one sent his desire spiking higher and hotter until he fully expected to burst into flames.

  Her breath came in shuddering pants as she neared her climax. Her movements had gone completely wild as she charged blindly toward her release. And then she was there and the sight of her shattering above him caused Grant’s heart to stop as he watched it all unfold. His Harley. Sweet, beautiful and strong. Her power over him immense and unstoppable.

  With his own orgasm close, Grant ground his teeth and slowed his movements. “Come for me again.”

  “What?” She lifted her head and regarded him in dazed shock.

  “Again,” he commanded, rolling her beneath him without breaking contact. “You’re breathtaking when you come.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist the way he loved and let her palms roam over his shoulders. He dipped his head and kissed her, driving his tongue into her eager mouth and drinking deep of her moans. She trembled at his next thrust and her arms looped about his neck as her kisses turned desperate. He rocked his hips, keeping his rhythm slow to start until the steady rhythm created a change in her breathing. She shifted the position of her knees, opening herself to his deeper thrusts and broke off their kiss to whisper in his ear.

  “Make me come.”

  He needed no further urging and began pumping into her. They groaned in unison, lips seeking, tongues engaged in hungry, wanton kisses. He thought he could hold out and watch while another orgasm claimed her, but when she bit down on his lip, his tenuous control slipped.

  “Come,” he rasped, digging his fingers into her butt and driving her hard toward her climax. “For me.”

  He gave a triumphant cry as shudders tore through her. His body detonated a second later, claimed by an explosion of joy and lust. Incoherent words slipped from his lips. Thrusting wildly, he chased her through a maze of ecstasy, the two of them completely lost in each other.

  In the aftermath, he pulled out and gathered her limp body against him. Lying cheek to cheek, he savored the soft press of her breasts and the suppleness of her smooth thighs tangled with his. The mingled
scent of sweat and sex recalled the last time he’d held her like this. That night, although he’d reeled in the aftermath of their explosive lovemaking, he hadn’t yet appreciated what their developing connection would mean to him.

  They were good together. Better than good. They were magic. Grant’s heart pounded and he realized it wasn’t just the lingering result of their vigorous sex. He was so damned ecstatic to have Harley back in his...bed. She set her hand against his cheek, and leaned far enough away so she could gaze at him. As her smile of pure delight seared through him, Grant could no longer hide from the truth.

  Harley was the dream that kept him from finding satisfaction with anyone else.

  Eight

  Harley arrived at the restaurant ten minutes late for dinner with her cousin Ezekiel Holloway and Regan Sinclair, his fiancée and Harley’s good friend. While it wasn’t the first time she’d left Daniel with Grant, it never grew any easier.

  Because, in all honesty, their developing bond filled her with mixed emotions.

  She’d never had to share her son with anyone and sometimes felt like a third wheel with how well the two got along. While logic told her that Grant would never replace her in Daniel’s heart, when it came to motherhood and reason, sometimes the two didn’t coexist.

  Spying Regan and Zeke seated at a table near the window, she headed over. The two had been engaged for a few months and were planning an intimate wedding. She’d suspected for some time that her cousin Zeke found Regan attractive, but the two were such good friends that he’d hesitated to cross the line. Harley couldn’t wait to hear what had caused him to change his mind. Nothing like losing herself in someone’s whirlwind romance to take her mind off her own troubles.

  “You two look so happy,” Harley announced, enfolding her good friend in an affectionate hug before turning to Zeke. She lifted on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. “It took you long enough to figure out Regan was the girl for you,” she murmured in his ear, but as soon as she took her seat across from them, she noticed the couple exchanging a furtive look. Harley immediately knew something was up. She rested her forearms on the white tablecloth and leaned forward. Her gaze moved from one to the other. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “It’s nothing,” Zeke declared.

  “Nothing at all,” Regan echoed, perusing the wine list.

  “How are the wedding preparations going? I imagine it can be stressful planning an important event like that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “We haven’t really done much,” Regan said, shooting a meaningful look in her fiancé’s direction yet again.

  “Okay,” Harley said, “something’s going on. Can you please let me in on what it is.”

  Zeke looked pained. “I think we should tell her.”

  Harley nodded at her cousin. “I think you should. After all, you know I can keep a secret.”

  Reagan’s teeth flashed as she smiled. “You can, indeed.”

  The truth of Daniel’s paternity had been something that Harley had kept to herself since learning that she was pregnant.

  “In fact,” Harley began, “that’s part of why I wanted to have dinner with you. Both of you have been the best of friends to me and never once pressed me to divulge the identity of Daniel’s father. However, I’ve recently decided that I can’t keep quiet any longer and so I let the father know about him.”

  “Who is it?” Regan’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

  Harley braced herself for their reaction. “Grant Everett.”

  “Grant?” Zeke looked stunned. “I had no idea you two were even seeing each other.”

  “We weren’t,” Harley admitted, her cheeks heating. “It was one weekend a long time ago.”

  “Well, good for him,” Regan declared, her eyes twinkling with good humor. “He’s been the reason so many babies have been conceived in this town. It’s only right that one of them should be his.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” Zeke laughed. “How’s he handling fatherhood?”

  “Really well. He and Daniel are as thick as thieves already.”

  “So you and Grant,” Regan mused. “I wouldn’t have guessed. Any chance you two might make a go of it?”

  Harley was shaking her head before Regan finished her question. “He’s hung up on the difference in our ages.” And probably a whole bunch of other things that prevented her from being a suitable partner in his opinion.

  Zeke shook his head. There’s what, ten or eleven years between you two?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “So, you left town when you were eighteen.” Regan’s brow furrowed as she did the math. “That means he was thirty-one. I’m a little surprised... I mean, he doesn’t seem the type to go for someone that young.”

  “I might have misrepresented my age,” Harley admitted, wincing as she recalled how upset Grant had been. “He wasn’t really happy with me when he found out the truth. But that was a long time ago and we’re trying to be friendly for Daniel’s sake.”

  “So, does this mean you’re staying in Royal?” Regan asked.

  “It depends,” Harley teased, deflecting the question. “On whether or not I get to be in the wedding.”

  Regan shifted uncomfortably. “You know I’d love to have you as my bridesmaid.”

  “I was just kidding,” Harley crowed. Then, seeing her friend’s discomfort she threw up her hands and rushed to reassure her. “You don’t have to include me. I have every intention of being here for the wedding. You are two of my favorite people, and I’m thrilled that you found each other.”

  “About that,” Zeke began, glancing at Regan. “Since we’re confessing our deepest darkest secrets tonight...”

  “We’re not in love,” Regan declared.

  “We’re getting married because Regan can’t get the inheritance from her grandmother until she’s married or turns thirty and she doesn’t want to wait four more years.”

  Harley was familiar with the terms of Regan’s grandmother’s will. She knew her friend chafed at the restriction and didn’t blame her for finding a workaround. The Sinclairs were a very traditional family. But Regan was a modern, independent woman. One who was eager to strike out on her own.

  “I see. I wish I could say I’m not disappointed.” She eyed her cousin, searching for some sign that Zeke wished Regan felt more for him than that of a friend. But either he was good at hiding his feelings or she’d misinterpreted the way he smiled whenever Reagan was around.

  While Harley hoped for Zeke’s sake that the former was true, she wondered if marrying his good friend might spark romance between them. Or was she merely hoping that if love blossomed between Zeke and Regan, the same might happen between her and Grant? Although he’d been very clear that he had no intention of entering any kind of emotionally intimate relationship with her, their chemistry continued to bubble beneath the surface. What if ongoing exposure intensified their connection? Keeping her wits about her might be impossible. After all, the half of a decade she’d been away from Grant hadn’t dimmed her desire for him.

  But she was no longer an impulsive eighteen-year-old. And she was certain that Grant’s willpower was far stronger than hers. He might let himself fall prey to the attraction between them, but he’d kicked her to the curb once. So what made her think he wouldn’t cast her aside a second time? She’d just have to be happy with a friendly companionship if that’s where things ended up.

  “You’re such a romantic,” Regan said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “While the rest of the world is being pragmatic, you still believe in happily ever after.”

  “I guess I’m an optimist,” Harley admitted. “I couldn’t do the work I’m doing if I weren’t.”

  “How’s it going by the way?” Zeke asked. “Are you having any luck finding funding for Zest?”

  “The fundraiser was
successful, but didn’t come close to replacing the annual contribution we received from Wingate Enterprises.”

  “Have you mentioned any of this to Grant?” Regan asked. “His family is one of the country’s leading philanthropists.”

  Harley shied away from Regan’s suggestion. “He’s offered, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea.”

  “Because of Daniel?” Regan asked.

  “I don’t want him to think that I’m using my son that way.”

  “But you wouldn’t be,” her cousin insisted. “Surely he’d know that.”

  “Maybe.” Harley shrugged. “But if I can’t be one-hundred percent sure, it’s better that I find financing on my own.”

  Regan sighed. “I admire you. I’m not proud of the lengths I’m going to get my trust fund, but money equals independence.”

  “That’s a fact I don’t take for granted anymore,” Harley agreed, comparing her comfortable childhood growing up surrounded by wealth to the desperate lives of the women who benefited from her nonprofit. “Life is a lot simpler with money than without it.”

  “It certainly makes the world go around,” Zeke put in, shooting Regan a telling glance.

  * * *

  Since finding out he had a son, Grant was learning that being flexible was necessary for parenting. Thus, when Harley called at a little after ten that morning and asked if she could leave Daniel with Grant for a couple hours so she could attend a business lunch, he’d agreed.

  “I’m sorry this is so last minute,” Harley said, as she entered his office with Daniel. “The woman I hired to babysit had a family emergency.”

  “Things come up,” he said, his gaze roving over her in appreciation.

  Despite her harried expression, she looked very professional in an emerald-colored sheath that elongated her slim form and made her green eyes pop. Four-inch heels drew attention to her elegant calves and brought her lips within easy range of his. Grant was wondering if she’d let him mess up her soft pink lipstick as she kissed Daniel and rumpled his dark blond hair.