Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  Harlan looked beyond the stable door and thankfully didn’t see any more surprises or friends. “So, we’re all set, then?”

  “I ran into Jeb Mahoney. He thought I was on his property, and seemed out of it, but other than that, yeah, we’re good.”

  Well, that was enough of the gossip and pleasantries. It didn’t look like Colt was in any hurry to leave, but Harlan sure wasn’t going to stand around and have a family reunion.

  He squeezed Georgia’s hand, knowing Colt would most likely raid his fridge for a beer before heading back to his ranch. It pissed him off that he hadn’t noticed Colt’s truck. It could’ve been a shit show of embarrassment for Georgia since he'd left the door to the supply room wide open.

  “Have a good night.” Harlan kept the comment flat, wrapping up the conversation.

  Colt grinned, ducking his head to hide his expression from Georgia, obviously crystal clear about Harlan’s cue.

  “You, too.” Colt caught his eye again, mouthing to him privately, “it's about time.”

  Harlan raised his brows, wanting to laugh—not because Georgia was a conquest, or to diminish what they were about to do, but because it had been a damn long time since he'd felt alive. “Will do.”

  He ushered Georgia past his brother, who was now in Morticia’s stable, and she called over her shoulder, “Nice meeting you, Colt,” before they slipped out the door, holding hands while they dashed down the path.

  He wanted to pick Georgia up and run to the studio but held back, controlling himself step by aching step. When Harlan opened the door, though, he couldn’t wait a second longer to feel her velvet skin. Sliding his arm around her waist, he quickly drew her inside.

  “Finally,” he whispered, backing her up against the door while it closed. Tunneling his fingers through her silky hair, Harlan studied her flushed cheeks, her mouth, her neck, deciding where to begin unwrapping his treasure.

  She blinked, looking down shyly, clearly backing away from the intensity of his gaze. Was it fear he caught a glimpse of? Worry?

  “What is it?”

  Georgia took a shuddering breath and shrugged.

  “What?” He asked again, using a finger to brush her hair away from her eye and gently trace the outline of her jaw. He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips against hers, feeling her tremble. “Let’s take this slow,” he whispered against her succulent neck, reminding himself as much as Georgia.

  “Okay.” She shrugged. “Just jittery, I guess. I haven’t been with anyone for a long time.” Her fingers shook when she caressed his arm and then pulled back, making his heart still. “And I’ve gained a little weight.” She looked at the floor and then at the wall. “Oh, never mind.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to worry about anything with me,” he said, crouching to her height, making sure she met his eyes and knew how much he meant what he said. Harlan wanted to add, you can trust me, and you are so gorgeous, and I love how curvy you are, but didn’t want her to think he was feeding her lines.

  He’d never had this reaction from a woman before. They'd usually be banging each other by now, but she...this...the way they started, the fighting...this situation was unlike any other. “Look at me,” he said softly. “This is just us.”

  “I know,” her words were all breath. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” Georgia sighed, her eyes moving as if she was playing a ping-pong match in her head. Turning away, she ambled farther into the studio, surveying his collection of guitars on the far wall, and the amps next to the small sofa under the window.

  Afraid he'd scare her if she knew just how badly he wanted to be inside her, Harlan kept his distance. He swallowed hard, watching Georgia keep her back to him while running her delicate fingers along the edge of the table in the corner.

  “You brought my creativity back to me,” he confessed, surprising himself by admitting it.

  She spun around. “I did?”

  “You did,” he edged closer, dying to tuck his hands under her shirt and feel her soft skin, but holding back with every ounce of willpower he could muster. “I’ve been writing again. Not just with Boone. Writing on my own for the first time in—I can’t remember.”

  And she reached out and touched him.

  He saw her exhale, noting the way the tension eased from her face as she intertwined her small fingers in his. Georgia glanced up, furrowing her brows, sucking on her insanely tempting bottom lip. “How did I inspire you?”

  How far could he go without having her run away from him? Holding back on anything was a foreign concept to Harlan, but with Georgia—if it was what she needed—he’d learn.

  “Tell me,” she pressed, squeezing his hand and then wrapping her arms around his waist, making everything perfect again.

  He let out a sigh, gazing down into her pretty eyes. “You sure you want to hear it?”

  She nodded.

  “I might embarrass you.”

  “Now I really want to know.” She snuggled against his chest, and he held her, content to feel her in his arms while they rocked together.

  Closing his eyes, debating the risk of her walking out the door, Harlan broke the silence with the truth, telling her softly, “I think I was inspired the first second I saw you come out from behind that gooseberry bush… You lit a spark. I had this need to protect you.”

  “Hmm…” she purred, snuggling her cheek against his chest.

  “And then when I helped you get those boots on…and you put your hand on my shoulder.”

  She tipped her head back, meeting his eyes.

  “And when I saw you fall. That wasn’t inspiring, but I swear it made my heart stop. And then when I heard you running the water for your bath,” he whispered, drowning and lost in her eyes, “I imagined you—how you looked.” He swallowed thickly. “In the water, the way your skin would feel against mine… How you would taste.” Her gaze penetrated his soul. “I can think of a million songs right now, and they all start with...Georgia.”

  Her kiss finished his sentence. A fire he couldn’t hold back or put out ignited as a moan escaped her and they devoured each other.

  She tasted like the best dream, soft and sweet, and agonizingly sexy and hot at the same time. Georgia fumbled with the buttons down his shirt, whimpering with quick breaths between kisses, sending him further and further past the point of no return.

  Watching her kiss him through heavy lids, the sight made him weak. “Don’t close your eyes, Georgia. I want you to see me. To know who’s kissing you,” he groaned, parting her lips with his tongue, holding the back of her head with his palm.

  In a minute she was walking him backward and pulling off his shirt while he helped her slide out of hers.

  Skin on skin, Georgia pressed against him, pushing him back on the table, all the while kissing him. And he was hers for the taking. Whatever she wanted to do was fine with him, but then her lips were gone.

  Holding his breath, Harlan grew harder by the second watching her take off her boots and shimmy out of her jeans. When she was down to her bra and panties, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, finally seeing the long, smooth legs Georgia had hidden from him under jeans. “Never wear pants again,” he begged in a low growl, reaching for her, but she pushed him away.

  “Don’t you want to watch?” Eyes sparkling with desire, she shot him a mischievous grin.

  Wait. What did she just say?

  Stunned into silence, and all eyes, he absorbed her every move as she looped her fingers under the tiny strings that held her lacy white panties together and slipped out of them.

  “See, I can be naughty too,” she teased, in a low, sexy voice.

  Mercy. His heart slammed against his chest. The woman was perfect before, but her eyes and the way she was watching him, and that neatly trimmed little triangle at the top of her silky thighs, took the cake.

  “You want naughty?” He said shucking his boots, socks and jeans while she watched.

  “Definitely.” She smiled like the cat that c
aught the canary, eyes trailing down to the obscene bulge his briefs were barely managing to contain. Without taking her eyes off him, she reached around and unfastened her bra.

  He froze, waiting, mesmerized while she slipped the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor.

  He meant it when he said, “it’s just us.”

  Georgia felt the truth in her core. Harlan wasn’t playing with her, and he sure wasn’t teasing.

  Imperfect, shy, or bold— Harlan wanted her exactly as she was. She saw the vulnerability in his eyes when he explained those pivotal moments. For once in her life she was on the same page with someone who desired her as much as she did him.

  There was something so sexy, so freeing, about watching Harlan want her.

  “You’re too, too far away from me, Georgia.” His deep, resonant voice hit her down low and, just like that, playtime was over. She rushed to him, pressing her hot skin against his, holding him tight. Her man, if only for one night.

  His kisses set off another fire as he tenderly moved the hair off her shoulders with his fingers and lips, dropping to his knees. “Beautiful,” he moaned, running his rough hands up and down her back while suckling her breast.

  The sensation of his tongue and teeth tugging at her nipple surprised her at first, coming in as a low rumble, waking every cell that had been hibernating for years. With every nip and suck, the quiet burn under her skin raged until it tore through her in quick breaths. She moaned, “Hurry Harlan,” not recognizing her voice as she arched her back, afraid she'd come undone at that instant. After all the foreplay she was a hair trigger about to go off.

  But he was back to her mouth, kissing her, taking over as only a man like Harlan could. Knowing exactly what to do, and how, and when— “I want you so bad.”

  With his hands around her waist and his warm chest glued to hers, he lifted her on the table. “Hold on, beauty,” he husked next to her ear as she melted, swirling deeper into the dream with him.

  Eyelids heavy, she watched him slip out of his briefs and scoop his jeans off the floor to take out a condom. The sight of her wildest fantasy coming true took her breath away. Huge, thick, long and perfect, Harlan’s cock led the way as he strutted back to her, and she leaned back, giving him full access.

  “Is this what you want, Georgia?” he asked in a deep voice, low and out of breath, rubbing against her tenderest part.

  “Yes,” she whimpered, helping him as he slipped the condom on. “Yes,” she moaned, spreading her legs, pulling him closer. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he entered her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him. “Ohhhh,” a moan escaped as she pressed against him, feeling him fill her.

  “You are so tight. My God, you are perfection,” Harlan groaned, going deeper, reaching around, holding her ass, moving into her and with her, sending her up and over the moon. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

  Clinging to him, about to let go, she felt his lips sear into her skin, never leaving her body, covering her mouth, shoulder, cheeks, and neck with kisses. She closed her eyes, listening to their lovemaking sounds, and his quaking breaths.

  Sucking his shoulder, she soared in the passion he poured over her, flying higher and higher. “You are a peach,” he said, thrusting harder. Covered in sweat, she met his every move as he held her, guiding her, stroking her, kissing her, loving her—

  The tension coiled so quickly it took her breath away and sent her spinning. Skin on skin, moving with her at just the right angle, he asked, panting, eyes dark with heat, “Tell me what you want Georgia, let me give it to you…”

  “Just like that,” she moaned, she couldn’t think.

  “Does this feel good?” he asked, just when she was about to spin off to the stars.

  “Yesssss, just like that,” she panted, barely hanging on.

  “Come for me Georgia, come for me now.”

  She bucked, clenching and unravelling. Crying out his name. “Harlannnn…,” she orbited, spinning off to an unknown place. Holding on tight, her heart about to explode, feeling like a rocket breaking out of earth’s atmosphere, Georgia cried out again, shattering with an intensity she’d never experienced.

  “What you do to me,” Harlan rasped, panting, then let out a long, low groan, burying his face in her hair.

  Blissfully spent, Georgia nestled her forehead against his shoulder, and they held each other, stroking each other’s backs, arms, hips, and everywhere else, until their breathing returned to normal.

  16

  She was sound asleep on the sofa when he came back to the studio with the water. Harlan watched the way her chest rose and fell so peacefully. Was she dreaming?

  He set the bottle down on the end table and quietly crept closer to his sleeping beauty, careful not to wake her.

  With every breath Georgia inhaled, greater calm washed over him. He crouched down by her head. And softly, so softly, he stroked her hair, brushing it up off her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered, but Georgia didn’t wake.

  Everything he wanted. Everything he needed was right here. His music, his family, his love. Harlan stroked her soft, silky hair in the semi-darkness. His love. If she wasn’t now, she would be. He knew it. Felt it.

  A slow-burning warmth spread through him.

  This was it.

  Georgia.

  She was it.

  That feeling of protectiveness that began the second he saw her swelled now. She belonged with him as much as he belonged with her. He grabbed one of the throw blankets in the pile at her feet and wrapped it around her to keep her warm and safe.

  He straightened and reached down, tucking his hands under Georgia’s smooth knees and silky shoulders. Taking in the intoxicating, musky scent of him mixed with her, he lifted Georgia off the couch.

  She moved in his arms, her hair resting against his chest, and murmured without opening her eyes, “Where are we going?”

  He tucked down close, nuzzling behind her ear. “Somewhere more comfortable, darlin’.”

  “Oh,” she said, her dazed voice sounding half asleep as she snuggled closer.

  Sure that Colt picked up on the situation he interrupted in the barn and had left, Harlan carried her out of the studio to his house, feeling like a possessive bear with his mate. Georgia was his.

  Carrying her through the shadows, careful not to bump into the furniture, he headed straight to his bedroom, where she belonged. With her cradled in his arms, he sat on the side of the bed, pulled the blankets and sheet back, and lightly set her down.

  She turned and snuggled into the pillow as he tucked the blankets around her.

  Keeping a steady watch over her, he rose from the bed and took his jeans off, then slipped under the covers next to her. Wrapping his arms around her and holding her close against him, Harlan fell asleep next to her, where he belonged.

  17

  Did that really happen? Georgia’s eyes adjusted to the morning light. Blinking, she focused on the dresser across from her. This wasn’t the guest room.

  She scanned the wall past sepia photos of what she guessed were the Rocky Mountains and spotted his cowboy hat on the hook near the door. Smelling fried bacon drifting in through the open door, she rolled over, remembering the studio, the couch, his taste, his touch.

  Harlan.

  His pillow was cold, but she could see the indentation where his head had been and crawled to the pillow to bury her nose in it. Harlan

  “I missed you too.” His voice came from above.

  She rolled over on her back and opened her arms. “Show me how much.” She grinned as Harlan crawled on top of her and kissed her behind her ear.

  Georgia closed her eyes, embracing him, running her hands up and down the planes of his back, taking in the mulberry fresh laundry and all that sexy smell. “No fair, you're dressed.” She tugged on his shirt.

  He propped himself on his elbows and kissed her slowly and softly until their tongues picked up the dance they'd left off last night. Harlan broke fr
om the kiss, but she wasn’t about to let him get away and reached up, giving him another kiss, and then another.

  “Breakfast in bed?” he asked.

  “Hmm...” her stomach growled at the thought.

  “Breakfast in the bathtub?” He kissed her cheek. “In the hallway? The closet? On the kitchen counter?”

  Laughing, she hugged him, not quite believing how loving and gentle he was in the morning light, a far cry from the passionate, no-holds-barred lover from last night.

  “I am a little hungry,” she confessed, wriggling out from under him. Besides they had all day, and she’d need her strength. Harlan got up and strolled to his closet. She tucked the blanket up under her chin.

  “Denver?” He called out, and before she could answer, held up a Red Rocks Six Guns concert tee.

  “Just my style,” she said, waving her hand for him to throw it.

  “As much as I hate to cover the view.” Devilishly looking her up and down, Harlan handed her the shirt. “Boone’s at Bobby’s. The band’s holed up in town practicing for the show,” Harlan’s voice oozed like thick honey with desire.

  It’s just a matter of time until Harlan’s inside me again. She felt his stare burning into her while she slipped the T-shirt on over her head. With a grin, Georgia took his hand and they walked to the kitchen.

  Seated at the table, she eyed Harlan while he stood at the stove stirring the eggs. Even in a cozy, domestic setting she wouldn’t call Harlan cute. He was too ruggedly handsome for that.

  “Nope. I don't think I’ll include this in my story,” she teased. “It would ruin your bad boy reputation if anyone knew you cooked."

  “Trust me.” He swaggered to the table holding the pan. “There's plenty enough bad boy in me, and my eggs are mean. I make a mean pan of eggs.” He scooped the scrambled eggs onto yellow plates with blue trim and set the pan back on the stove.

  “So,” he said, sliding into his chair. “How’s the story coming? I’m loving your unusual interview technique.” He grinned before putting a forkful of his culinary expertise in his mouth.