The Lawson Boys: Alex (22 page)

“Only my
pride.”

“What
happened?”

“I was just
going to take that bowl of berry liquid to the laundry and tip it
into a jar for old Bert. He uses it for his garden, swears by it
for his daisies, of all things. I stepped back, thought I’d trodden
on Buffy’s tale, shifted to the side and slipped.” She attempted to
pull her shirt down but his hand in the way prevented it. “If you
don’t mind…?”

Actually, he
did mind. Very much, in fact. Now that he knew she wasn’t hurt, he
was aware of just how much of this rubenesque woman was bared to
his gaze by both her drenched shirt sticking to her bountiful
breasts, and the skirt she wore riding up her rounded thighs.

Yummy thighs
covered in fine black stockings. And if he wasn’t mistaken, was
that a garter belt peeking out from beneath the raised hem of the
skirt?

Oh boy
.
He
loved
garter belts. Unbidden, his hand slid down to land
on her thigh right below that enticing peek of white frill.

Harly’s
shoulder brushed against his chest as she leaned forward and
grabbed her skirt, yanking it down. Only she couldn’t get it right
down, not with his hand on her thigh preventing it. “Alex, could
you shift your hand, please?”

“I could,” he
replied huskily, “But I don’t think I will.”

Surprised, she
turned her head to look at him. The desire he was feeling must have
been pretty plain on his face, because her eyes widened and a blush
stole across her rounded cheeks.

He looked again
at her thigh. The black silk stockings looked sinful against the
paler flesh of his hand. Sinful and evocative, and the garter belt
he revealed as he moved his hand higher, pushing the skirt out of
the way, was almost erotic in it’s startling white frill with the
tiny red bow in the centre. His heart started to thud heavily in
his chest, his blood pooling low and hot in his loins as the pale
skin of her upper thigh came into view and-

“Alex!” Harly
almost slapped his hand away while shoving her skirt down, cutting
off his view. “What are you doing?”

“Having a
look,” he replied frankly. “And I’d love another one.”

“Well, you’re
not getting one!”

Seeing her
burning cheeks, he realised that she was embarrassed. “Oh hell,
no,” he stated firmly.

“Oh hell, no -
what?” Looking away, she tugged on her skirt again.

Placing his
hand against her cheek, he turned her back to face him. “You are
never to be embarrassed about your body, Harly. Especially not with
me.”

“Don’t know
what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

“Yes, you do.
You didn’t like me seeing your leg.”

“It’s not
exactly an appendage I want anyone to see.” When she tried to turn
away, he stopped her.

“If I ever hear
you say that again, you won’t be able to sit on anything.”

Mouth falling
open, she stared up at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You have a beautiful body, Harly Bentley, and
running it down is not something I ever want to hear you do
again.”

“A beautiful
body?” Her cheeks were still flushed, but there was a flash of
annoyance in her eyes. “Are you blind?”

“I’d be very
careful of what you’re going to say next.”

“Come on, Alex,
it doesn’t take anyone with half a brain to see that my body isn’t
beautiful. I know that.”

“Oh, do
you?”

“Yes, and so do
you, if you’re honest with yourself,” she replied a trifle
hotly.

“I’m honest
with myself, all right, and now I’m going to be honest with you and
you’re going to listen.” He almost laughed unexpectedly when her
chin lifted and she arched one brow arrogantly, and he probably
would have except he also saw the shadow of vulnerability in her
eyes.

That
vulnerability struck him down deep in his soul and he softened. His
hand on her cheek gentled, his thumb moving to brush across her
lower lip.

“Baby,” he said
softly, “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. You have
two legs, two arms, a working body, and you’re all soft curves and
warmth. I love every curve, so why shouldn’t you?”

Swallowing, she
licked her lips before whispering, “I don’t hate myself.”

“You’re
self-conscious.”

“That comes
with being a big woman.”

“You’re not a
big woman, Harly. You’re not a little woman, you’re not a skinny
woman, you’re not a fat woman, or petite, or any other word we’ve
all heard to describe a person. They’re just labels. You are
a
woman.” When she glanced down, he added quietly, “You are
Harly Bentley, pet owner, worker, sewer, sweet, strong, and I find
the fact that you wear black silk stockings with white garters
very
sexy.”

Her lips
twitched even though she glanced shyly up at him.

“And your body
makes me incredibly hot,” he stated firmly.

The small laugh
that escaped her made him warm inside, the fact that he could make
her laugh, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her push her
fears away.

Especially with
him.

“Okay,” she
said. “You found out my secret. I have a weakness for silk
stockings and garters.”

“You and me
both.”

“I sort of hope
you’re not wearing them.”

“Baby, I like
taking ‘em off women.” He grinned with a flash of teeth. “I’m
really going to love taking ‘em off you. With my teeth.”

“That’s not
likely to happen.” She gave him a small shove.

“Oh, trust me,
it is.”

“Flatterer.”
She started to push upwards.

“Not flattery.
A promise.” And so saying, he cupped her cheek firmly, curving his
thumb under her chin to hold her still while he took her mouth in a
deep, drugging kiss.

Jesus, he felt
like he could kiss her forever. Drown in her scent, her taste, her
essence. He swallowed her breath, ravaged her mouth, kissed deeper,
hotter, feeling his blood thicken with carnal lust.

He’d have taken
her there on the floor except that as he started to lower her
backwards, she slipped again in the puddle and nearly brought them
both down into the sticky mess. It was enough to bring him to his
senses and he lifted his mouth reluctantly from hers.

“Think we’re
gonna have to take a raincheck,” he said huskily.

“Okay.” Eyes
dreamy and lips lush and red from his marauding mouth, she
nodded.

“Raincheck for
five minutes, enough time to go to your bedroom.”

“Okay,” she
said again.

Keeping his arm
around her back, he took her other hand and stood, drawing her up
with him and tucking her into his side. Dropping his hand from her
waist to her ample bottom -
Jesus, what a luscious handful
-
he gave it a squeeze. “I’ll help get you into the shower.”

Dreamy or not,
she baulked at that. “I don’t think so, Lawson.”

His hand went
from a squeeze to a warning tap.

“Threats won’t
work-” she began, only to be cut off by the phone ringing.

“Ignore it,”
Alex said, walking her towards the doorway to the hall.

In obvious
agreement, she nestled in closer, but the answering machine cut in
just as they drew level to the phone and Mrs Bentley’s voice
sounded.

“Hi honey. I’m
surprised you’re not home. I was going to pop over and drop off
some home-made jam while passing on my way to the flower club
meeting. You’re obviously not home, so I’ll leave it on the front
veranda in about half an hour. Toodles!”

Harly drew to a
halt to look at the phone. “Half an hour.”

“No worries,”
Alex said. “I usually like a lot of foreplay and fun first, but I
can man up to it and bed you in ten minutes, leaving fifteen for
you to shower and change and we can be out of here for dinner
before your mother arrives.”

The look she
cast him spoke volumes.

“The passion’s
leaving, isn’t it?’ he asked in mock sadness.

“Mothers have a
way of throwing water on the hottest of fires.” Her eyes
twinkled.

With a sigh, he
crossed to the sink and picked up the dish cloth. “Go and get
changed and I’ll clean up.” He watched as she crossed to the door,
his gaze falling on her breasts outlined by her wet shirt. “Oh, and
Harly?”

She glanced at
him over her shoulder.

“You owe me.
Boy, do you owe me.” He smiled at her. “And I’m going to
collect.”

There was that
adorable blush again, but this time it was accompanied by a small,
and oh yes, an undeniably breathy laugh. He might be manfully
ignoring his stirring shaft, but he could take satisfaction in
knowing that his woman was just as affected. There was no way he
could miss the nipples pebbling hard against her shirt, or the
dreaminess of her eyes.

Oh yeah, he was
going to collect big time, and soon.

“The dinner
you’re buying me better be worth it then,” she retorted right
before disappearing into the hall.

Buying dinner.
It was enough to remind Alex that this was a time of getting to
know each other, but hell, nothing wrong with getting a little more
acquainted with their bodies as well. If Harly was game, so was he.
More than game. Burning for it, in fact.

“I’m a sad,
desperate case,” he informed Buffy, who wagged her tail back at
him.

He also had to
acknowledge that gaining Harly’s trust required more than being
good in bed with her. There was more to a lasting, solid
relationship than sex.

“Just keep
telling yourself that,” he murmured. “You’re not taking one for
your solo team for a very good reason.”

Unless Harly
wanted to, and then he’d be more than happy to oblige.

“I’m
over-thinking it,” he told Buffy. “That hot little moment with your
owner scrambled my brains, not just my nuts.”

Finished
cleaning the mess, he threw the dishcloth in the bin, washed and
dried the bowl, and sat down at the kitchen table to read the
newspaper.

It wasn’t far
from his mind that Harly - luscious, naked Harly - was only a
couple of rooms from him, but he tried to ignore it, otherwise he
was going to go to dinner with the biggest boner of his life.

And with his
luck, he’d meet Mrs Bentley at the door while that boner was
seeking a way out of his pants.

Not cool, as
Marty would say.

It wasn’t long
before Harly came back into the kitchen, this time dressed in black
slacks topped with a cream, long-sleeved jumper. In her hand she
held a heavy jacket. Her black hair hung loose, the sides pulled
back in a clasp at the back of her head. Her startlingly pale grey
eyes, heavily fringed, needed no mascara, but he could see that
she’d put on a sweep of berry lipstick.

“Nice.” He ran
his gaze appreciatively down her body, lingering on the swell of
her generous hips and bosom as he did so.

She blushed a
little. “Thank you.”

Pushing to his
feet, he closed the small distance between them and placed his arms
around her waist, loosely linking his hands in the small of her
back. Looking down at her, he grinned. “Dare I hope the silk
stockings and garter belt are beneath these slacks?”

“Try socks.
Thick socks.”

“Shame.”

“Actually, what
I was wearing was for going out, but it was the only winter skirt I
had, so…” She shrugged, the movement causing her breast to brush
against his shirt-front.

Dipping his
head, he feathered his breath over her lips, enjoying the shiver
that went through her, enjoying even more the way one of her hands
came up to rest against his chest, right over his heart.

Instead of
kissing her, however, he ran his tongue lightly across her lips.
“Mmmm, strawberry flavoured lipstick. Yummy.”

Her grey eyes
were like pools of depthless crystal as she gazed up at him.
“Flavoured lip gloss.”

“Remind me to
paint it across your entire body so I can lick it off.” Heat
spiralled through him at just the thought, but it was tempered with
amusement at her deepening blush. “Harly, you are such an
innocent.”

“No, I’m not,”
she denied almost hotly. “I know what sex play is, what some people
do.”

“Ah, love, but
you don’t know what I do.” He ginned wickedly, dropping his hands
to cup her generous derriere. “You will, though. I’ll take great
delight in dragging you into my world of depravity.”

Expecting her
to blush even more, he was caught by surprise when instead she
smiled sweetly. “So for research, I should re-read those erotic
romances Maryanne gave me?”

“Sweet Jesus,
yes.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You read them?
Seriously?”

Coming up on
tiptoe, she slid one hand behind his head and he obligingly bent
down so she could place her mouth at his ear, her warm breath
making his blood spark. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find
out.”

“Forget
dinner,” he said decisively. “I’ve decided I’m into research.”

Laughing, she
pulled out of his arms. “No way, Lawson. You promised me dinner,
remember?”

“We can do
dinner tomorrow.” He reached for her.

She slapped his
hand away, laughing and blushing all at once, which he found so
enchanting.

Sweet, shy, but
with a little carnal streak that only made her more enticing, Harly
was full of surprises. Alex couldn’t wait to banish her shyness in
bed and see exactly what she was game to try. Or out of bed. He
didn’t actually care; lovemaking between two people could be done
anywhere, anytime. He wasn’t fussed.

Commonsense
warned him not to push it, either, for she was slowly relaxing in
his company, but he knew if he pushed it, she might just
retreat.

Slowly,
slowly
, he reminded himself. He already knew he’d gained a lot
of ground for the short time he’d been here, especially considering
the past they shared and the way he’d come into town breathing
fire.