Page 87 of Bend Toward the Sun

That did it. A muscle spasmed under his eye. He exploded into motion, crowding her against the table behind her. He still didn’t touch her. “Acrush. Are you fucking serious?”

They puffed at each other like two angry bulls.

“I always suspected something was wrong with me,” she said, implausibly calm. “Then, once I met you and your family, I was sure of it. I’m not for you, Harrison. I’m not—this is just—you’re just—too nice.”

“Toonice?” Harry’s self-control snapped like a bone in a vise. “I’m not as nice as you think I am.” He reached around her to swipe an arm across the table. “Sex is all you want?” Stacks of plastic nursery pots clattered to the ground. “Fine. Fuck it.”

His hands dug into her hips. In one fluid motion, she leapt, he lifted, and she was up on the high table, bare thighs clamping his chest as she sank her mouth down to his.

He rammed his fingertips under the front waistband of her shorts and nearly tore off the button.

“Not here,” she muttered against his mouth.

“Yes, here. Why do you think I locked the door?”

Nice?

Fucknice.

The things he wanted to do to her weren’tnice.

“Take off your top,” Harry commanded. He stepped back, out of her reach.

She hesitated. Glanced at the condensation-fogged glass walls. A box fan in one of the windows creaked in an aberrant rhythm, and the old sink in the back of the greenhouse dripped. For a moment, it seemed like she might say no, go to hell. And he would’ve.

Eyes blazing, Rowan smiled, drew the white tank over her head, and dropped it to the soil-dusted floor.

“I need to hear it.” Harry barely recognized the low tones of his own voice.

“Yes.”

Her nipples were a dark outline against the thin microfiber of her bra. Harry had the front clasp open in seconds, drawing the material away from her breasts, unwrapping her like a luscious treat. She arched her back and slipped her arms out of the bra, sending it to join the tank top on the ground.

Her breasts were the most beautiful he’d ever seen, lushly curved beneath, nipples the color of cinnamon. The same color as her eyes. Her body was all cream and spice.

“Lay back,” he said.

Her knees naturally drew up as she lowered her back to the table. Harry reached under her and snagged the waistband of her shorts and panties, and tugged them over her ass, down her legs.

When he touched her and found how wet she was for him,he nearly lost it in his shorts. He was intoxicated by the scents around him: the mineral zip of clean dirt, a musky undertone of fertilizers. The lush scent of arousal from the woman before him.

Harry spread her knees and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, bending low. He palmed her ass, lifting her, inhaling her. Then he flattened his tongue and made a few slow, broad swirls along her center. The salt and tang of her was like a drug.

Rowan’s back arched off the high table, and her foot slipped, kicking him in the shoulder. He wrapped his fingers around that ankle to anchor her in place. With the other hand, he slipped two fingers inside her, then lowered his mouth to continue what he’d begun.

Harry looked up to watch her face as he swept her toward her peak. Her belly hollowed and clenched, and her breath hitched in her throat, reaching, reaching. When her legs began to shudder and she held her breath, he knew she was close.

“Stop holding your breath.” He stood, using his fingers for the kind of force and friction his tongue wouldn’t provide. His free hand dug into the healthy curve of muscle above her kneecap, the force of it pulling skin shiny and taut across the contoured bone.

“Look at me,” he demanded. He knew the exact driving rhythm she needed. He stared her down until her eyes flashed to wildfire, flame and gold, and she clenched hard on her teeth. In seconds, she burst against his hand, hot as summer sunshine, crying out his name.

Harry.He was Harry again.

The aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsed around his fingers as he hauled her upright with his free hand. He slid her down from the table and growled into her hair, “Was thatnice?” Pinning her against the wood, he unzipped his fly far enough to free his aching dick, and ripped open the condom he’d stashed in his back pocket. Lately, he never went anywhere without one.

“Yes, damn it.” She took him in her hand, using her thumb to spread a pearl of moisture around his tip.

Sucking a swift breath through his teeth, Harry grabbed her wrist and snapped her hand away. He flipped her around and bent her over the table so her ass was high in the air. She exhaled hard as her breasts hit the wood, but no protestations followed. “You still want this?” he choked, rolling the condom on with two slick strokes.