He lifted her dress over her hips, drew her panties down around her ankles. She kicked off her heels and wriggled her panties off while she heard the tearing of a condom package. He pushed her thighs apart and nudged his cock to the entrance of her *, reaching around to rub her clit with his hand.
Her anticipation had put her nearly there. With a few strokes of his hand she climaxed. Tingling pleasure shot through her with an unexpected rush of delight. She cried out when he pushed inside of her, the waves of her orgasm continuing to pulse inside of her while he drove into her.
“Fuck,” he said. “You’re still coming.”
She came again when he fucked her harder and faster, making her grab onto the counter for support. When he climaxed, he wrapped an arm around her waist and shuddered against her, thrusting his cock in deeply, his groan a delight to her frenzied senses.
He laid his chest against her back and she felt the wild beating of his heart, felt the perspiration of his skin as his thighs rested against hers.
“You’re sweaty,” she whispered.
“The things you do to me.”
She closed her eyes. He had no idea what he was doing to her, the way he made her feel, the responses he evoked in her.
It had never been like this for her. Not with any man before. She’d had great sex before, for sure. But with Barrett, it was as if every time was so incredibly powerful it laid her out, made her feel as if he were irrevocably weaving a spell over her.
He pulled out, then turned her around, framing her face with his hands to kiss her so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes. She fought them back, fighting the emotion.
This was just sex. Hot, rocking, crazy sex. Nothing more.
It couldn’t be more because she knew that’s what it was for Barrett.
She wasn’t going to get emotionally involved with him.
When he disentangled, he said, “I think I need a shower.”
They went upstairs and she pinned her hair up and joined him in the shower for a quick rinse off. She changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top, then fixed them both a glass of iced tea.
“Stay tonight?” she asked. “Storm’s still raging out there.”
She thought he’d object, but he just nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They cuddled up on the sofa together. He gathered her close and she laid her head against his chest and he rubbed his fingers up and down her arm. She wondered if maybe it was too late to fight the emotional attachment she had to him.
If so, she was in deep, and it was starting to worry her.
Twenty-Seven
Harmony had never been to the Double C ranch, but had heard stories about it from her mother and from Drake. She’d heard it was sizable, that Barrett’s parents owned it. Barrett’s father, Easton Cassidy, was a football legend, a retired quarterback who’d forged a dynasty of amazing sports stars.
Barrett, Flynn and their brother Grant played football. Tucker, Barrett’s twin brother, was a pitcher and the only member of the family to play baseball.
Of course there was also Mia, the youngest Cassidy sibling and the only daughter. She was in postgraduate school and not the least bit interested in sports.
Barrett’s mother, Lydia, was a former attorney who now helped Easton run the ranch as well as various family foundations. According to Harmony’s mother, the woman was formidable but also one of the nicest people her mother had ever met. She was one of the reasons Harmony’s mom had decided to go back to school, get her degree and was now a financial analyst.
Harmony had a lot to thank Lydia Cassidy for.
Drake and Barrett had flown in earlier in the day, but since both she and her mother had to work on Friday, they hadn’t been able to fly out until later in the day. Barrett had told her he’d have a car waiting for them at the airport in Austin, and true to his word, as soon as they arrived there was a sign with her name on it and someone had helped them with their luggage and directed them to a nicely air-conditioned SUV.
It turned out the guy wasn’t with a car service but was one of the ranch hands who’d been sent to pick them up.
It was about a fifty-mile drive from Austin to the Double C ranch. They went from city to country and when they hit the gates of the ranch, Harmony was in awe at the sheer amount of land they passed through.
The main house was massive, surrounded by tall trees and barking dogs and a lot of cars.
“Is there a party tonight?” Harmony asked.
“I don’t know, honey. Knowing the Cassidys, probably. They do like to entertain. But they also have a big family.”
Her mother climbed out of the car, greeted all the barking dogs, and left her to climb up the stairs and hug a petite, slender, gorgeous woman with light brown hair. She wore a maxi skirt and a tank top and sandals and looked like a mature fashion model.
Harmony made her way to the porch—after greeting all the dogs, of course.
“Go. Shoo,” the woman said to the dogs, who scattered on command. “Sorry. They’re all super friendly. Hello, Harmony, and welcome to the ranch. I’m Lydia Cassidy.”