The Hotter You Burn (13 page)

“You feel so good, Harlow.”

He'd said her name rather than a silly endearment, and somehow that was ten thousand times sweeter. He'd just made it clear he knew the woman he held in his arms. He knew who he kissed as if his life depended on it.

“More,” she demanded. “Please, more.”

“I'll take care of you.” He tilted her back and nipped his way along her jaw. He licked and sucked on her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He laved at her hammering pulse, and she nearly shot off the table. The heat of his mouth on her skin...the wet...

Moaning, purring, she tunneled her fingers through his hair to hold him in place.

“The sounds you make...they're killing me, baby.”

Only fair, since parts of her were dying brutal deaths, as well. The loneliness. The heartbreak. The guilt and shame for a past she couldn't redo. Here, now, there was only Beck. And his mouth. And his hands. She existed for pleasure, his pleasure, aching to the point of pain.

Led only by instinct, she had no finesse, no defense as she grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him forward, arching her hips. The long, hard length of him ground into the apex of her thighs, and she gave another low, needy moan.

“You said you'd...take care... Beck, please.”

This time, she didn't have to urge him physically. He ground against her again and again, every point of contact making her gasp and plead for more. If he decided to rip away her panties and take her here and now, she would let him. It didn't matter that anyone could walk in on them. Didn't matter that they'd had no discussion about what this would mean, or how this would change the foundation of their relationship. She'd reached a place of no...yes, yes...
like that
...
there!

He rocked into her harder, faster, causing the table to inch backward, banging into the wall. One of the pictures rattled, threatening to fall.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Beck commanded.

The words yanked her out of the moment. He'd said them before—
wrap your legs around me
—but not to her... To another woman. To Tawny the night Harlow had broken into his house.

One and done.

She was about to give herself to a man who'd made no promises beyond tonight.

It mattered, she thought, cold realization slapping her. This night would mean something to her, but it would be one night in a long line of nights for him. She would want more—always more—but he would be finished with her. One and done. No exceptions. She would have to watch him move on to his next conquest.

Harlow pushed against his chest. He was too strong to budge, but he did lift his head. In the light, his eyes were molten gold, his lips pink, moist and kiss-swollen, and as the tension she'd felt in him revealed fine lines around his eyes, he'd never looked more devastatingly beautiful. A warrior straight from battle, determined to enjoy his prize.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No. We can't do this.”

“We
can
.”

“We shouldn't.”

“You want me. I want you. I don't see a problem.”

He wouldn't, would he? “You
never
see a problem, Beck. Not with anyone. And
that's
a problem for me.”

Releasing her as if she'd just sprouted horns and fangs, he ran his tongue over his teeth. A cry of disappointment bubbled in her chest, but she swallowed it back.

“I don't want to have a one-night stand with you,” she whispered, wishing she would stop trembling. West wasn't the man for her and never would be—she got that—but neither was Beck, even though he drew her with invisible chains, and oh, crap, the urge to curl into a ball and sob bombarded her.

“We'll enjoy ourselves, Harlow. That I can promise you.”

“I know. But to taste what you have to offer and then have it taken away? No,” she said, shaking her head.
I've lost too much already
. “Give me forever, or give me nothing.”

He gazed at her with longing.

He gazed at her with terror.

He gazed at her with fury.

He backed a step away, and the nerve endings he'd awakened within her stopped singing, suddenly screaming in protest. They hadn't gotten nearly enough of him.
She
hadn't gotten enough.

His features shuttered, hiding his emotions. “I don't know what I can give you, but however long we last, it won't be forever. The future is too unpredictable.”

“Then it's nothing,” she said, tears welling. There was a part of her, deep inside, shouting for her to girl-up and fight for him. Walking away would be easy. Emotionally gut-wrenching, but easy. And really, “easy” would be her only reward. Fighting for him would be difficult, but the potential for payoff would be far greater. But the potential for hurt and failure, losing what little she'd gained in her life... It scared her to the bone.

“It's not enough,” she said.

He laughed bitterly. “That's the thing, sweet. I never am.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
ARLOW
 
TRUDGED
 
OUT
 
of bed and dressed in a pair of frayed jeans shorts and her high school cheer shirt—go Stallions! Very little else in the RV belonged to her. She hadn't paid for anything with the weekly checks she'd earned as a WOH employee because she hadn't needed to; Beck had always given her cash plus bags of groceries, toiletries and clothing, allowing her to build a small savings. So, suspecting she would soon be kicked out, she didn't bother packing. She wondered if Beck would knock on her door as usual, not to tell her to “rise and shine” so they could leave for work, but to tell her to take a walk of shame off the property. Or maybe he just expected her to head off on her own without being told.

She'd been watching the clock... Any second now the answer would become clear...

Two hard raps sounded at the door. “Harlow,” he snapped. “Get up. Let's go.”

She yelped and tugged at the knob, not sure why she was surprised, considering she'd been waiting an eternity for this moment to arrive. He stood in the sunlight, his dark/light hair brushed back from his face, his lids narrowed, the tension from last night seeming to have doubled.

He looked her over and frowned. “That's how you want to go to the office today?”

He wasn't firing her
or
kicking her out? “Well...I wasn't sure I'd be welcome at the office.”

His gaze flipped to hers and narrowed further. “Always thinking the worst of me.”

Guilt gave her a good old-fashioned kick in the heart. “I don't always think the worst of you. I think the worst will happen to me. There's a difference.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, honey. Let's go.”

For once, he didn't open the car door for her, and all vestiges of his flirtatious side were gone. He switched on the radio, discouraging further chatting, but the hard rock soon grated at her ears.

She turned off the radio and said, “Are you—”

“I don't want to talk about last night.”

“Good. Neither do I.” She was still too raw. Still reeling. One kiss had ripped away her every defense, making her forget her long-term goals. “I was simply going to ask if you were coming over tonight so I can work on your portrait.”

“No. I'm going out.”

“With whom?” The question whipped from her before she could stop it, and she considered jumping out of the car. Eating asphalt would be less painful than this conversation.

“That isn't any of your business.”

She dug her nails into her thighs, cutting into skin. Just last night he'd had his tongue in her mouth, and now he treated her as if she were nothing special. Because—let's be honest—she wasn't. Not to him. But how much worse would it have hurt if she'd actually had sex with him, and then had to go through this same routine today?
Count my blessings.

“You're right. Forget I said anything,” she managed with a carefree tone. She turned the radio back on.

When they arrived at the office, she didn't wait for him to come around the car—or not. She got out on her own and as casually as possible walked inside the building. The supplies she needed to sketch the new cast of characters were waiting in her office, as promised. The descriptions, the pencils and the notepads. There was a note from Kimberly, as well.

Dear Harlow,

I never meant to encroach on your territory! I truly had no idea you were interested in Beck. For your peace of mind, you should know we canceled our date. Also, I'm heading back to S&S Financial. I'll be rooting for you. If anyone can tame a playboy, it's you. You're like a rose, thorns and all. You leave a mark. (And that's a good thing!) Make sure to send me an invitation to your wedding.

Kimberly

Harlow's heart skipped a treacherous beat.

She heard Beck come into the room, the clunk of his briefcase as he set it down, the thump of his shoes as he left the room. The swish of the door as it closed. Her heart drummed. She glanced up in time to watch him enter West's office, which was currently empty.

Disappointment and despair washed over her. Beck hadn't fired her or kicked her out, but he sure had written her out of his life. And she wasn't sure why. She'd told him she didn't want a one-night stand, and before that, he'd known she was interested in a long-term relationship. Why act as if she'd ripped out his heart and trampled on it?

Maybe Kimberly was right. Maybe Harlow had left a mark.

Shouldn't get my hopes up.
Letting the descriptions of the character profiles play through her mind and guide her hand, she worked for several hours. One image after another came to life on the page, but none of them satisfied her. There was no spark. The images fit the narratives but lacked any sign of life. When she found herself subconsciously adding Beck's features to the hero of the game, well, she decided to call it quits for the day.

She had to talk to someone about what was going on. She desperately needed advice, her inexperience cloying, choking her. She'd never get anything done, otherwise. But who could she call?

Beck was her only real friend, but the only advice he'd give her was
get naked and get in bed
.

Brook Lynn might be willing to listen. While they weren't bosom buddies, they didn't hate each other, either. At least Harlow hoped not. There was only one way to find out...

Harlow picked up the phone and dialed. Beck had given her a list of names and numbers soon after she'd begun working for him, just in case she had questions about something when he wasn't around.

Brook Lynn answered on the third ring. “Hey, Beck. What's up?”

“Uh, it's Harlow.”

“Oh. Um. Hi.”

“Listen. I know it's weird I'm calling, and you will never be my biggest fan, but I have nowhere else to turn, and I need help.”

One beat of awkward silence, two. “Are you calling to discuss your plans for the zombie apocalypse?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Harlow peered through the glass into West's office. Beck had a phone to his ear. He threw back his head and laughed at whatever the speaker had just said. Confirming plans with his date tonight? A knife of jealousy stabbed at her chest.

“Then what do you want, Harlow?” Brook Lynn prompted.

“Harlow? As in Harlow Glass?” Jessie Kay said in the background. “What's she doing calling you?”

Ignore her.
“Well, the problem is Beck, and I—”

“I'm going to stop you right there,” Brook Lynn said. “I won't give you any dirt on him.”

“She wants dirt on him?” another voice gasped in the background. Kenna Starr, maybe.

“I don't want dirt,” she rushed out. “Besides, I already know about his past.”

“How?” Brook Lynn demanded.

Okay, so, this call had been a mistake. Noted. “He told me. How else?”

“He
told
you?”

“Yes.” But that had nothing to do with her problem. “Look, I shouldn't have—”

“What did he tell you?”

Curses! Would the girl always interrupt? “You'll have to forgive me, Brook Lynn, but I won't give you dirt on him, either. I don't know what he's shared with you and what he hasn't. I won't betray his confidence.”

Silence.

Would Brook Lynn hang up now?

“All right. How can I help you?” the girl asked again, and this time a layer of warmth wrapped her tone.

Uh, talk about confusing. But if the spunky blonde who'd managed to snag the town dragon was finally willing to listen... “Well, Beck and I kissed last night and now—”

“You
kissed
?”

“They kissed!” Jessie Kay demanded.

Argh! “Would you please stopping butting in? You are the most frustrating person on the planet right now.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Brook Lynn said. “Where are you? No, you know what, forget I asked. You're at Beck's office. Duh. Caller ID. In just a few minutes, Beck is going to get a call. Soon after, he'll leave. And soon after that, I will arrive—I'm currently at Two Farms—and we will finish this conversation in person.”

Click.

Okay. Wow. But true to the girl's word, Beck received a call on his cell phone before he stuck his head into Harlow's—his—office.

“I have to go,” he announced. He wouldn't meet her gaze.

“Oh. Is something wrong?” Did she sound too breezy?

“Nothing I can't handle.” He was gone a few seconds later—and she realized she missed him already.

What the heck is wrong with me?

As she began to pace, she noticed Cora received a call, as well, and left soon after. Then Brook Lynn arrived with her sister and, yep, Kenna Starr. The best friend. Harlow was too worked up to care about the potential hate mob.

The girls invaded the office, each pulling a chair up to the desk. Brook Lynn appeared giddy, Jessie Kay suspicious and the redheaded Kenna befuddled.

“How did you get Beck to leave?” Harlow asked.

“Had Jase call him for a bro-mergency,” Brook Lynn said. “Meaning Jase is finally telling him how Tawny Ferguson has been coming to the house, asking questions about Beck. She's there now, in fact.”

What!

I mean, whatever
. Wasn't as if an old flame of Beck's mattered. He never went back for seconds. “You
are
here to help me, right?” Harlow asked, hesitant.

“Yes,” Brook Lynn and Jessie said in unison.

“Yes?” Kenna asked. She was a beautiful woman, her hair like living flames, her eyes steel gray and her pale skin adorably freckled. And, lightbulb! She would be the perfect model for Midnight Romp, one of the characters in West's game. Fierce avenger by day, seductress by night.

Harlow was making a mental note to ask her to model when Brook Lynn said, “So...how was the kiss?”

“Oh, she liked it, no doubt about it,” Jessie Kay piped up. “She didn't have to tell me that part. I just know from experience.”

A twinge of jealousy.
Not important, either.

“Jessie Kay is right. I liked it. But now I don't know what to do about it,” Harlow said. “I would have done more than kiss him, but I want forever and he wants a single night, so we called it quits and now he's treating me like I'm the devil.”

Kenna opened her mouth.

“I'm not,” Harlow insisted, and Kenna closed her mouth. “Not anymore.”

“This sounds made-up. Beck is
always
nice,” Jessie Kay said. “Even to his leftovers. Again, I know this from experience.”

“I guess I really ticked him off. But I have no idea how.”

Jessie Kay tapped a fingertip against her chin. “I have a suspicion, but I need more info before I voice it. Tell me how he's treating you, exactly.”

Easy. “He snaps at me. He glares at me, and he's stopped opening my car door for me. He doesn't call me
lollipop
or
dove
.”

“Wait. Let's backtrack just a bit. We want to help Harlow Glass...why?” Kenna asked.

“There's a good chance she isn't the girl we once knew,” Brook Lynn explained.

Not quite a shining endorsement, but she'd take it.

“So we like her now?” Kenna asked.

“We're deciding.” Brook Lynn settled deeper into the chair. “But either way, we
are
helping her today.”

“Can you?” Harlow asked, not daring to hope. “What was your suspicion, Jessie Kay? You never said.”

“Well, I think he still wants you, despite your desire for forever. And since you denied him, and he thinks he can't give you what you want, he's acting like a baby whose favorite toy was taken away.”

The storm raging inside her stopped, just stopped, the sun suddenly shining brightly.

“Game changer, right?” Jessie Kay asked. “Do you now just want Beck to be nicer to you—or do you still want him to commit to you?”

“Both?”
Could
he commit? Why did he go for so many women? Just because he could, or was there a deeper reason behind his he-slut behavior, the way there'd been a deeper reason behind her bullying?

What did she know about Beck's past? The loss of his mom, the rejection of his father, the family members who'd kicked him out. The foster system. No telling what he'd seen, heard and experienced as he was shuffled from one home to another.

Mental note: study problems foster kids might develop later on in life.

Fingers snapped in front of her face. She blinked, found Jessie Kay leaning over the desk in a bid to gain her attention.

“Where'd you go?” the girl asked.

Harlow propped her elbows on the desk, rested her chin against her knuckles. “That's not important. What is? Boys.”

“Boys?” Brook Lynn echoed.

“They're all I know, but Beck is all man, and I'm out of my league with him. My last date took place my junior year of high school, and I rarely ever went out on a second with the same guy, and never... Well. You know.”

“Never what?” Jessie Kay perched at the edge of her seat. “My mind is going to some strange places right now.”

If she said it, there would be no going back. These girls would know one of her secrets, and as Brook Lynn had said, they hadn't yet decided if they were her friends or not. They could betray her, strike at her while she was down the way she had once struck at them.

Just do it. Tell them
. How they responded would reveal their true intentions toward her. And perhaps ruin what little happiness she'd managed to eke out for herself, but whatever.

“I'm... I've never...been with anyone, okay?” she finished in a whisper.

“What!” Jessie Kay yelled. “No way my sweet little ears just heard such a lie. Are they bleeding? They feel like they're bleeding.”