Hands On (13 page)

But what would happen afterward? She frowned, tensing. What if this was just his way of getting his rocks off, using her then abandoning her? It wasn’t unlikely. He’d said he didn’t want a relationship.

“Ginnie.” His voice, a warning.

“I don’t think I can…this way.”

“You’re thinking too much. You know what the solution to that is?”

She really wanted to know. “Tell me.”

“Stop thinking.” He ran a hand up her leg. “
Feel
.” He leaned over, kissed her again.

His hand toyed with legs, then her upper thighs, fingers teasing all around where she wanted them most.

It did indeed drive the thoughts from her head.

He laughed at her frustrated sounds and brought his other hand into play on her nipples.

She gasped. Where on earth was she supposed to focus her attention?

Her nipples sent fiery messages of lust straight to her core. Harry’s other hand played her like a puppet maestro intimately familiar with his marionette’s levers and strings.

On top of all that, aftershocks from his kisses kept hitting her, tingling on her skin and vibrating in slow sensual waves to her stomach. Butterflies on steroids. All she had to do was remember Harry’s tongue in her mouth and she felt an eager warmth between her legs. It was as if he commanded her very mind to reject all doubt.

Her breath came in short pants. The feel of his large warm fingers gliding against the juncture of her thighs tore a whimper from her.

He moved in close, giving himself more leverage and allowing his taut body to brush against hers. His breath felt hot against her throat. His chest burned against her wherever it touched.

The hottest conflagration was happening lower.

His fingers felt mobile and deadly. But he wouldn't use his fingers the way she wanted him to.

Harry wouldn’t be hurried. He continued the rhythmic stroking, the contrasting sensations making her muscles tremble and tense.

“
Please
,” she begged finally, the word ripped from her. She thought she felt him grin against her neck, but suddenly all her awareness flamed to ashes as he worked his fingers just right. The deliberate manipulation jerked a small scream out of her, wordless and primal.

“I thought you might like that.”

Too soon, he paused. She heard the crinkle of foil, and then his fingers were replaced by something much larger.

With a single, almost painful thrust, he made sure coherent thought remained an impossibility. Filling and stretching her, he felt wide and hard and deep, even better than she remembered.

Ginnie wrapped her legs around him to draw him closer.

“Open your eyes.”

She shook her head. She was enjoying too much the tingles of want that surged through her, savoring the sensation of his hard body atop hers, of being taken just the way she’d hoped. His rougher skin slid against hers, foreign and erotic as he penetrated her deeply. The degree to which she responded stunned her.

“Open your eyes, Ginnie.”

“I don’t want to. I
love
this.” She felt him burying himself in her to the hilt, the meltingly sensual sensation of his hips working between her thighs, the intimate slap of flesh where she was most sensitive. Her desire for him overrode everything else.

Harry laughed. She clenched around him and was rewarded by the jump in his muscles. His soft, suggestive laughter turned to a groan.

She thrust against him, grinding shamelessly.

He stopped.

Her eyes flew open. “Hey!” she protested.

“That’s better.” He supported himself with his arms and stared into her eyes as he began to move again.

She found she couldn’t look away.

He filled her. “I want you to see me now.” He withdrew. “I like your knowing I’m making you feel these things.” He pinched one of her nipples as he filled her again.

Ginnie cried out, but managed to hold his gaze. She saw what he wanted her to see, in his steady, commanding stare. She saw the fire of his lust. She also saw something more, a shadow of something darker. Old hurt and betrayal and anger. It mingled with his look of hot desire so she couldn’t be sure, but there was something lonely that seemed to call out to her.

Was she meant to see that?

Either way, such vulnerability paired with his intense gaze and masterful lovemaking brought her right to the brink. “Oh, I want you, I want you like this
always
,” she told him fiercely.

He felt so wonderful. She pulled him close, her hands raking his strong back and clutching his smooth buttocks. He was so perfect, so caring, so knowing. She filled her mind with the wonder of him, and what he made her feel.

“Always, always, always…ah!” she cried out, closing her eyes involuntarily, and felt him thrust fast and deep as they were both hurled past the point of no return.

It felt like shattering into a billion glowing stars.

From his private jet, Harry gazed at the dramatic mountains and striking glaciers and greenery of the unspoiled paradise below. But all he could see was his glaring mistake. He’d strayed from his own self-imposed guidelines.

And Ginnie would pay the price of it.

He’d broken his own rules. Rules he’d put into place after Jaye Rae used the power he’d given her to reduce him to magazine gossip fodder, an outcast from his former friends, a recluse by choice. He still felt rage at that injustice and sorrow for the trust he’d lost, not just in his ex-fiancée, but in all women. Not to mention everyone who’d believed her lies even for a second. He couldn’t risk anything like that again.

It wasn’t necessary. Mind over matter. He prided himself on making rational decisions, and he told himself he was making one now.

The rising spring sun turned the five-hundred-mile Inside Passage waterways a vibrant ruby, and bathed the mountains in brilliant purples and grays and blues. Southeast Alaska presented itself to his discerning eye, a dramatically contrasting landscape of jagged peaks, blue-white glaciers, emerald forests and untouched seas.

Wild. Harsh. Different from Portland’s more temperate climate.

The island he was considering for purchase came into view. Glacier-carved fjords extended into granite-ledged misty mountains. It was small, but accessible by floatplane, helicopter or boat. Wildlife reportedly abounded.

Ginnie had moved like a wild thing beneath him the night before.

How had Ginnie wormed her way so far into his head? Every detail of her body was carved into his memory. Her scent. Her sounds. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, even when he was a thousand miles away.

Harry hit the side of the plane, cursing.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” Harry snapped, then shook his head. No need to take it out on the staff. It wasn’t their fault. What was the flight attendant’s name? “Yvonne,” he remembered. “I’d be grateful for another coffee. And have the pilot take us around the island five or six times. I want to look at it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ginnie had been glorious, the way she’d given over sexual control to him. He wished he didn’t feel so damn touched that she trusted him. When she’d repeated the word “always” toward the end, he’d felt their minds reach a strange synchronicity, as if following the tempo of their bodies binding themselves together, never wanting it to end.

Always.

Forever.

It had scared the hell out of him.

For most of the year, he’d been craving the ideal of being master of his domain, without a care except his work—the thing he had absolute control over. Never again would he have to worry about former friends or colleagues rejecting him. Never again would he have to experience the particularly hurtful betrayal of a woman—one he’d loved.

With all the money he’d made by selling off much of Sharpe Industries and the significant amount he made and would continue to make as a real estate investor and financial planner, he could attain his goal of perfect peace and security, surrounded by nature and beauty, without a concern in the world. He could fly to Portland headquarters once per month, just to make sure his company was implementing his wishes, but the bulk of his workload could be handled electronically.

Maybe money couldn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell could buy off problems and uncertainty. He could build a magnificent mansion near that slender ribbon of river he could see just off the balcony and wire the whole house for optimum connectivity and security. He’d do some of the construction labor himself, of course. He found it soothing, on occasion, to apply his knowledge of housing structure in the most fundamental fashion. Building a house. And on that lake he saw down there, he’d have a fishing boat. He probably wouldn’t build that one. He didn’t know boats inside and out the way he knew houses. There would be nothing but open sky and trees and wild animals to bother him.

No neighbors within sight or sound. No children. Nobody.

Harry wondered how the repairs on Ginnie’s rental house were coming along. He’d kissed her good-bye in the morning as she’d slept. She’d murmured a little and turned onto her back, right in the middle of the bed. He’d been tempted to crawl back under the covers and move her back to her own side, in his own special way.

No!
he told himself firmly.
Look at the slope of the hill to the southeast, see how it settles into a verdant meadow? That would be the perfect place for a stable, and a garage for a small plane and a helicopter, and a snowmobile for the wintertime.

No neighbors even within driving distance.

If he ever did crave companionship, people were only as far away as a short helicopter ride.

Ginnie thought he was beginning a relationship with her, but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t. Loving her would be as bad a risk as a high-growth stock in a bear market. He wasn’t about to chance another manipulative woman fighting dirty to gain control over him the moment things weren’t going her way. He couldn’t go through that again.

“Take us down in Juneau,” he commanded abruptly. He’d put his money on the island before he could change his mind. It would be suitable for him, perfect for the recluse he intended to remain.

Harry gazed down at his remote future home until it receded into Southeast Alaska’s mists.

If only Ginnie would fade as easily from his mind.

“That’s so…naughty.” Lara covered her eyes, leaving plenty of gap between her fingers. Ginnie watched her as Lara continued to peek at the worker.

“Is it safe to look yet?” Ginnie asked after a few moments.

“Not yet.” Lara grinned, then, surprisingly, raised her hand above her head. She waved.

“You didn’t just wave to him. Tell me you didn’t just wave to him.”

Lara laughed, unrepentant. “I just waved to him. Wow, you can see his hunka-hunka all the way from here.”

“Still?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s giving me a show, at this point. Either that or he really had to go badly.”

“Some show! He’s peeing on my daffodils!”

“At least they’re yellow.” Lara cocked her head. “The repaired automated sprinkler system will rinse ’em off.”

Ginnie felt suddenly proud of her new friend. “You remembered I have an auto sprinkler system. You’re fixing everything back to better than it was before. You’re not even the property manager.”

“I am now.” Lara grinned. “They promoted me. And, unlike Darlene, I did my homework and I know my stuff. And I have a conscience. You need friends in a situation like this.” Lara gave Ginnie a frank stare. “You could use the allies, being in a new state by yourself and all. Especially now.”

The surge of gratitude shook Ginnie. Her emotions were on one monster of a roller coaster ride, between the wrecked house, Rick and, of course, Harry. Lara’s kind words were more of a comfort than she knew. “Thank you.”

“Least I can do. Besides, where else am I going to find such a fine concentration of man-candy construction workers?”

Ginnie muttered a comment about toilet training.

Lara emitted an unladylike bark of laughter. “They’re wild, they’re really hot, there’s a couple dozen of them and they’re probably a lot of fun. Construction workers usually are.”

“Slut!” But Ginnie grinned.

“Mr. Golden Showers over there isn’t in construction,” Lara continued, ignoring her. “He’s part of the landscaping crew. Clearly he missed his calling. He should have been a plumber.”

Both women cracked up.

Ginnie never saw the men approach, though she thought Lara had. It was in her mischievous smile and the glint in her eyes.

“Hi, ladies.”

Ginnie blushed. She recognized the work boots on Mr. Golden Showers. She raised her gaze to his friend rather than him. “Howdy,” said the cute, curly-haired worker. “I’m Ed, and this is my friend Burton.” Ed winked at her.

“I’m Ginnie. I used to live in this house.” Ginnie wasn’t at all attracted to Ed, though his looks were blameless and he seemed nice. “I have a boyfriend,” she blurted out.

An awkward silence descended.

Thankfully, Lara smoothly took over the conversation, flirting with both men while including Ginnie with easy, socially bubbly graciousness. For her part, Ginnie admired Lara once again, this time for her outgoing social skills with two strange men—one of whom had inadvertently flashed her. She hoped it was inadvertent. Though Lara was right, it was pretty funny.

As Ginnie stood witnessing their banter, controlling nothing and no one, she realized the old tension hadn’t gripped her. No sense of powerlessness compelled her to interrupt or direct their exchange.

Which was a good thing. When it came to how to manage workers who peed on your foliage then flirted with you, Ginnie hadn’t a clue. Clearly Lara did.

After the workers went back to breaking down two-by-fours to make them easier to transport, Lara shook her head. “They’re too transparent. I mean, you waggle your meat at me, you better at least make an honest effort to move the conversation beyond sex. What did he think, that I was just going to lie down in the bushes?”

“Pee-stained bushes.”

“And you.” Lara wheeled on her, mock severe. “A
boyfriend?
You have a boyfriend?” She looked at her watch. “We have awhile before the city permit people are due to get here. Come on.” They walked.