"Oh, m-my god-d. I'm t-too heavy. P-put me d-down, M-mr. M-maloney!" Hartley cries out in protest, but her body shakes in my arms, so I simply ignore her.
The strawberry and vanilla scent I've jacked off to every morning since I found the shampoo she uses invades my nostrils. I sniffed every damned strawberry-scented bath product available in Festival Valley—and this town is affluent, which meant visitinga lotof candle, perfume, and special soap shops. Turned out it was a drugstore-brand shampoo.
"P-please, M-mr. M-maloney!" Hartley begs, trying to get me to put her down by tapping my arm.
"Nope." I squeeze her closer. "And if you don't start calling me Bradford, I'm going to fire you."
Her eyes widen even further, and for a split second, I feel bad about threatening her job. I know how seriously she takes her position. But if almost losing her has helped me realize one thing, it's that this woman is mine. So she’d better start calling me by my first name, or our wedding is going to be awkward.
"O-k-kay." Hartley swallows hard, her eyes dropping to my mouth and across my shoulders before darting away entirely.
"I'm taking you home, Hartley," I tell her, picturing her soft curves draped in my sheets. I try to tamp down the intense lust coursing through my body. Navigating the path is hard enoughwith the underbrush. I don't need to add a raging erection to the situation.
Yet.
"Th-thank you, Mr. M–Bradford." She wraps an arm around my neck, which smooshes one supple breast against my chest. I briefly contemplate ripping her clothes off right here, right now. "I live in the t-tiny homes on the b-back property. N-ot sure if you know that," she adds shyly.
"We're not going back to the hotel." I dare to glance at her, and she gasps when my heated gaze lands on her in full force. "You're coming home with me."
Chapter 4
Hartley
I swallow hard, unable to tear my eyes away from the intense blue-gray ones fixed on me from the other side of the kitchen counter. Mr. Maloney looks like he wants to tear the clothes off my body.
I place the steaming mug of tea on the granite countertop in front of me and clear my throat. "Thank you," I manage to whisper.
Bradford nods, his gaze raking over me. I squeeze my thighs together to ease the persistent ache caused by his sudden attention.
I'm imagining this, right?But if I'm not, what the fuck is happening? This man has iced me out since the first day we met. I've silently called him an asshole on more than one occasion. And now, he's looking at me like I'm his favorite snack. What did he say in the woods?
Brilliant. Funny. Perfect.
I get up from the stool and place my mug in the sink. Turning around, I lean against the counter. We are now only a few feet apart.
Kiss me, asshole.
I silently chastise myself. He's not an asshole. He saved me. Pretending to want me is not the best way to avoid a lawsuit, so there’s no explanation for his sudden interest in me, except for the most logical one. He'sactuallyinterested in me.
I trail my eyes down his body, noting the way his hands grip the counter like he's trying to hold himself back. My gaze drifts over his flat stomach and down to the obvious bulge in the front of his pants.
Dear God, is he packing a bottle of soda in there?
My eyes flick up to his. It suddenly occurs to me that he's most likely waiting for me to make the first move. I'm his subordinate, and he already revealed a lot when he found me. I haven't reciprocated his feelings, so it's my decision. I could demand a separate bedroom. Keep this professional andnotpotentially ruin the best job I've ever had. Or I could create real-life memories to replace the fantasies I currently fall asleep to at night.
What am I waiting for? I've been in love with Bradford Maloney since the first moment I spotted him across the lobby ofThe Palmer.
I move ever so slightly… and all bets are off.
We collide in a tangle of limbs, tearing our clothes off between searing kisses until I'm down to my panties. He backs me along the hall and into his bedroom. When we make it through the doorway, he picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
"You are mine," he growls, pressing me against the wall next to the door.
I whimper as he sucks and licks a path down my neck and across the tops of my breasts. I grind my core against him, desperate for the friction I crave.
He groans and turns abruptly, walking me toward his king-size bed. "I've thought of nothing but you for two long months."
"What?" I pull back, looking at him in disbelief.
