Authors: Amarinda Jones
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica
Hard Man (7 page)
“Oh yeah.”
Any weird-assed thing Mitzi had decreed the company made. Needless to say, Princess Mitzi shoes never made it into
Vogue
magazine.
“I saw the way Mitzi looked at you.”
“She can barely remember my name.”
“She loves you and doesn’t even realize I’m alive,” Louise wailed and belched once more.
“Ah, I see,” Harry mused as he gently pushed Louise back from him.
Well, duh. “It was you who sawed off the heels and then stole the shoes to get her attention.” Louise loved Mitzi. Go figure.
“I wanted her to need me.”
“Love isn’t about that, Louise. It’s about faith, trust and honesty. If those gifts cannot be given freely then it’s not meant to be.”
Ashbea
felt
Harry’s
arm wind around her waist.
And I have all those things.
“Go to Mitzi and tell her the truth.”
“What if she hates me?”
“I don’t know or care. Just get the hell out of my room.”
Ashbea
had dealt with more than her share of Princess Mitzi staff problems. “Hell, Louise, you have the balls to sell shoes at funerals. If you can do that then you can do anything.” In some ways
Ashbea
would have liked to be a fly on the wall during that conversation.
“What if she says no?” Louise stumbled but managed to catch herself as practiced drunks did.
Ashbea
ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. You have to take a chance.”
“But what if—”
“Push off, Louise. I want to be with the man I love.”
Ashbea
smiled up at Harry. It felt so good to say those words. “Do whatever you have to.”
Louise weaved passed them. “I left the stolen shoes in your closet.”
Ashbea
sighed. “Of course you did.” She would deal with those tomorrow.
“By the way, you have horrible shoes.”
“Get out, Louise.”
Ashbea
pushed her out the door. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do letting a drunken woman wander the corridors. But then, even drunk, the Barracuda was a survivor.
Harry started laughing loud and long. “I never knew.” He caught her in his arms.
“What?”
“Real life until you came along.”
Chapter Seven
A week later she was back in Brisbane, alone.
Princess Mitzi shoes was
no more and
Ashbea
was unemployed. Realistically she knew she had to look for a job. There were bills to be paid and mortgages waited for no one. However since her return,
Ashbea
had sat and stared at the phone. It hadn’t rung once. The last time she saw Harry at the airport kept playing over and over in her head. Had she missed some clue? Had she misunderstood what he had said?
“I promise I will call you. I love you.
Ashbea
.”
“Harry, what if this is just a holiday fling. What if—” He words had been cut off by the sweet passion of his kisses.
“I love you and
I
promise I will come for you. Nothing will stop me.”
It was everything
Ashbea
had wanted to hear. “But—”
“Do you love me, bumblebee?”
“You know I do.”
“Then trust me.”
A week later that trust was on shaky ground.
Ashbea
could have called him but she had her pride. The horrible feeling that she was the rebound girlfriend kept her from dialing the hotel to talk to Harry. How pathetic would that be?
Chasing after a man who had moved on.
In her heart she wanted to believe all that Harry had said. In her mind she was calling herself a fool.
“It was just a moment in my life. I need to move on and get over him.” The words made perfect sense when said out loud. “So I will get a job.
But first things first.”
Ashbea
needed to buy more chocolate. Any woman worth her salt knew chocolate was the antidote to all problems. In the last couple of days she had consumed what seemed like her weight in chocolate trying not to think about Harry.
Ashbea
scooped up her car keys and purse.
“Though I probably should walk.
Hmm.
But then if I do the chocolate will melt on the way home.”
And then that would depress her more.
It was better to take the car and deal with extra pounds later. It was not like anyone was going to see her naked any time soon.
Ashbea
opened the front door and ran into a solid, warm body. Her hands roamed the cotton-covered flesh. “Harry?” She’d know that chest anywhere.
Ashbea
looked up into the face. She was torn between crying and slapping him.
“Hello, bumblebee.”
Ashbea
did neither. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and started kissing him. Maybe there were more subtle ways to greet someone but
Ashbea
did what her heart demanded.
“Glad to see me?” Harry chuckled between kisses. His arms wound around her body as he carried her inside and kicked the door shut behind him.
“Where have you been?”
Ashbea
pulled back and touched his face. Oh yeah, he was real and no chocolate-induced apparition. “I thought—”
“I was not going to honor my promise and come for you?”
“Well, yeah.”
Harry slapped a firm hand on her butt.
“Ye of little faith.”
He settled
Ashbea
on her feet but kept her close. “I had some important things to organize.”
“Your job.”
That was only logical. Harry was a manager and responsible for a convention center. He couldn’t just pack up and leave whenever he wanted to.
“Yes, I took on a new one.”
Harry’s
gaze was on hers. “I’m leaving Melbourne.”
Ashbea
felt a surge of joy shoot through her.
“For Brisbane?”
She would have gone down south to live with him but this was even better.
“No, not Brisbane.”
“Oh.”
Ashbea
gripped his shoulders, steeling herself for bad news.
“I’m taking over the caretaker position on the Sun Cove Island.”
“Right.”
Actually it was anything but. Sun Cove Island was a quiet, expensive retreat for lovers. It was at the tip of Cape York and miles away from Brisbane. Harry may as well have stayed in Melbourne. “So this is like a stopover for you.” Her hands dropped from his shoulders. Reality was a hard pill to swallow.
“Yes.” Harry nodded and caught and held
Ashbea
against him.
“And a pickup.
You have something of mine, bumblebee.”
Ashbea
had no idea what. Then it occurred to her. “Okay, so I nicked some hotel toiletries but everyone knows that’s what they’re placed in the room for and it’s not like anyone was going to want to wear the robe after I had.”
Harry laughed at her words. “No, I expected you to have done all that. That’s what I love about you.” He took her hand and put it on his chest. “You have my heart and I cannot imagine you and me not being together. I love you,
Ashbea
.”
And that’s when she started crying. “You do?”
“Have you been pining for me?” Harry wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Maybe.”
“I have been for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “So come with me to the island. You said that was where you wanted to be. There is an admin job for you there with me.”
It was so perfect
Ashbea
was scared it was not real. “Pinch me. Ouch! Not on my ass.”
Harry’s
large hands grabbed her ass and pulled her in closer. His cock was hard against her stomach. That was real enough for her. “
There’s no shoes
on this island?”
“No only sand, the sea and me.”
Done deal.
“Take your clothes off, Harry.”
Ashbea
started pulling at the snap of his jeans.
Harry laughed and wrenched off his shirt. “Is that a yes?”
“Oh yeah.”
Ashbea
pushed the denim from his lean hips. “I want to make love to you until neither of us can walk straight.” She caressed his cock in her hand.
“Have you been a little desperate?”
“You have no idea.” The idea of never making love to Harry again had given
Ashbea
many a sleepless night in the last week.
“Oh but I do. It nearly killed me to let you go.”
“I have pounds of chocolate to work off because of you.”
* * * * *
“How about sex on the beach?”
Ashbea
asked as she leaned on the main bar as Harry poured drinks. He was a jack-of-all-trades on the island. From manager to barkeep to tourist guide, he did it all. Harry was tanned, his hair was longer and he looked completely different from the man she had first met all those months ago in Melbourne. But then, they had both changed.
Ashbea
was more relaxed than she had ever been. Things like her mortgage and bills no longer bothered her. She had taken a leap of faith and sold her house and thrown in her lot with Harry. So far it had been the best decision of her life.
Ashbea
spent her days wearing casual clothes on a tropical island and loving Harry. Life could not get any better than that.
“Sex on the beach?
Are we talking about the cocktail or the real thing, bumblebee?”
Ashbea
licked her lips invitingly. There was no one in earshot. Everyone knew they were lovers even though they tried to keep business and personal lives separate. “Well, it does involve your cock and my tail…”
Harry dropped the silver shaker he was holding. It clattered to the bar top. People looked up from their
sunloungers
. “You know I can’t think straight when you say stuff like that.”
“That’s why I say it.”
Ashbea
pushed back from the bar. “So, boss man, are you interested?”
“Always.”
Harry summoned another staff member to take his place behind the bar.
“Come and get me, hard man.”
About the Author
Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your ass, but after all, that’s what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch who all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.
Amarinda welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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