Page 81 of Country Contract

“So, do you feel like you’re going to be able to handle saying goodbye in a few weeks?” Hunter’s tone is warm but authoritative.

He and Cassidy are sitting at the table watching B and me while the three of us have a drink. I filled them in on everything. I figure since Harlow has Meg, it would be nice to have someone in my corner, too. At first, I considered Silas, but his advice really isn’t the kind that I need right now. Hunter is, in the end, my best friend and brother.Cassidy and I are close, and she can give me more perspective.

“Yeah, I guess a part of me feels guilty for this other guy. Like, he doesn’t know I’m over here sleeping with Harlow before she goes back home to marry him.”

Cassidy sticks a hand up to pause me. “If. If she decides to do it. Harlow is her own woman she doesn’t have to marry anyone she doesn’t want to,” she states firmly. Just as I anticipated, Cassidy is upset about Harlow’s lack of freedom.

“We don’t come from the kind of family she does. No one around here does. I don’t think we can really even wrap our heads around the kind of life Harlow has,” I say a little defensively. I care for her as more than a friend. I don’t want them to think that she’s weak or fickle. She’s not either of those things. If she accepted this engagement, it would be because she’s loyal. I don’t think we can truly understand the complexity of the proposal she’s considering. It’s not as simple as saying no.

“Well, I can’t imagine anything being more important than her freedom,” Cassidy states firmly.

“What about family?” I ask, and I see her head jerk back. She looks over to Blake and then to Hunter before looking back to me.

“I would do anything for the people at this table right now. But I could never ask Blake to marry someone she didn’t love.” How can Harlow let her family down? How could her family ask something so huge of her? We really can’t understand it.

I leave my brother’s place, not having much more figured out. As I drive past the path leading to the fork that divides us, I think about what I want to do for the next few weeks.

I don’t know how I’m going to feel after she leaves, but I do know that until she does . . . I want her.

I take a right and head toward the bunkhouse to see what she’s been up to this evening. There’s a glow coming from inside, and a warmth permeates the front door. I wouldn’t call the current weather frigid, but it’s too cold for a bonfire. If we were to hop into the tub, I could imagine Harlow tiptoeing as fast as she could to get in.

I don’t even get to knock at the door before Harlow pulls it open. She likely saw my headlights as I pulled into the spot next to hers. A warm, yellow glow creates an inviting halo around her tall, thin frame. Her hair is wet, hanging over her shoulder, and loosely braided without a hair tie. She’s wearing her crew neck sweater and leggings with a pair of gray fuzzy socks that go a little above her delicate ankles.

Before I can truly take her all in, she leans forward and kisses my lips lightly.

“Hey, kid,” she breathes against me before going in again.

I don’t think, I just act. Scooping her up into my arms, I carry her into the house and kick the door closed behind me.

How can a woman look more beautiful after a shower and wearing pajamas than any model I’ve ever seen on social media?

I kiss her harder than she had kissed me, and she answers back with as much fervor. I’m lucky I never laced my boots when I left Hunter’s because stopping to get out of them would have been a total bitch.

I hear the heavy thud of my boots being kicked off as I carry her up the stairs and into her room. I’ve never really kissed someone with my eyes open before, and, if I had, notlike this. Maybe when I was younger and awkward. This time, it is with intention. Her charcoal eyes look at me intensely. Baiting and pulling me in until I’m lost.

I think about tossing her on the bed, but instead I turn and sit so she’s straddling me. We kiss and bite at each other, using our tongues to trace the wounded and abused flesh. Moans and soft pants fill her room.

Harlow’s delicate hand splays across my chest, pushing me back to lie down. I take in the space around me. It’s the same as I had set up for her, but in many ways, it’s different. The closet door is open, revealing her black wardrobe. The room smells like sea salt and a light floral scent, something like orchids. Cleo’s bed is in the corner with a heating pad on top. The feline lays there, content and asleep.

She must recognize my distraction; her slender but strong fingers grip my chin and force my gaze back to her. When I make eye contact, Harlow slips off me to pull my pants off. I pull my shirt over my head, then quickly get back to lying on the bed where she left me. I’m smarter than to disobey her when she’s like this. She wants to take the lead, and I enjoy letting her.

Her warm lips wrap around me as she takes me in as far as she can. I want to touch her, but I know better than to touch without permission.

“Harlow,” I moan as I feel her tongue massage the underside of my length. “Can I touch you?”

I feel the nod of her head against me. My hands move to her head, not moving her, but bobbing with her motion. I love the connection. Not even a dozen words between us before we were in each other’s arms.

My dick twitches with its need to release, but Harlow pops off before I can finish.

When she kneels back, I see her hand between her legs, fingers massaging her clit.

She moves to straddle me, and I grab her hips to stop her.

“I won’t last,” I admit, and an almost malicious smile crosses her face.

“Good.” She climbs atop me, parting her lips with her two fingers and sliding down my shaft. My whole body shudders, thighs flexing, and a rush of air leaves my chest. My eyes are fixed on where we connect, and when I look up, I see that her eyes are fixed on me.

“So fucking good,” she moans.

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