Page 300 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

MAC

I could hear Dad talking to Andy through the door.

That Georgia and I were probably looking for clean dishtowels in the laundry basket.

I didn’t hear a peep after that because it was Andy’s job to empty the dryer and try to fold the clothes–at least try–but since he hated the assignment, probably hadn’t done it and didn’t want to point it out.

I didn’t give it much thought because my mouth was on Georgia’s.

She came in the back door in a pair of black jeans with a pale blue sweater. Something soft and fuzzy. Her hair was in a ponytail but had curls in it. Little dark wisps framed her face. Her lips… yeah, I couldn’t have helped but stare at them, were pale pink and glossy.

Everything about her was soft and sweet and her scent was all I could breathe. And her tits? Fuck me.

She was just the right size for me. Not just her tits, but all the rest of her, too.

I didn’t have to bend in half to kiss her.

Or get a crick in my neck. Beneath my palms her tits were heavy and more than a handful.

She was so blatantly feminine, so different than me.

Where she was lush and soft, I was hard and angled.

I was calloused and rough and she was silky soft and sweet.

I pulled back. Looked at her with her lips no longer glossy but swollen, eyes closed.

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” I said, my voice pretty much a growl.

Her eyes flew open.

“Wh… what?” she whispered.

I ran a hand over my mouth, wanting nothing more than to spin her around, bend her over the washer and fuck her.

To make sure she forgot Smutters or any other guy who looked her way.

I had enough blood left in my head to know now wasn’t the time to take anything further.

Andy was occupied for now, but not for long.

And no way was I taking Georgia for the first time as a quickie in my laundry room.

Richard would probably jump out from behind the dryer and claw my bare ass while I was balls deep.

“You stroll into my life with that pink luggage, all pretty and kissable. Then you charm my six-year-old into believing you’re his new mom.

Then you end up in my garage apartment where I know you’ve got a purple vibrator you use to cram into that perfect pussy.

Somehow, you also cast a spell on the fundraising committee and I’m somehow a topless model.

The calendar’s all anyone can talk about at the station.

All I’m hearing is what they’ll wear an innuendo about holding a hose, fully charged.

Now you’re about to eat my garlic bread. ”

“Shirtless, not topless, and I told you, it’s going to be family friendly.”

“After all that, that’s all you have to say?” I asked, reaching up and tugging on my hair. I was usually in charge. That was what was required of a fire chief. Of a father.

But this woman who felt like sweet sin and smelled like a field of fucking flowers made everything go sideways.

“Is that all you have to say?” she countered.

“No!” I said, tossing up my hands. “Now Andy’s talking about another pet because they need adopting. One aloof asshole cat is enough for this family.” I turned away, then abruptly back. “Oh, and nipples! Why would Andy even mention nipples if yours weren’t poking against your top?”

Instead of narrowing her eyes in anger, because I’d be pissed as hell if someone spewed such irrational drivel like I was, she bit her lip clearly trying to stifle a smile.

“You shouldn’t be worrying too much about Andy and nipples right now. You think you’re going crazy now, wait ten years.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll make it that long with you around.” I was thinking with my dick, had been since she landed in Montana.

My eyes narrowed. I knew I was being irrational. Ridiculous, even. Didn’t matter. “You’re laughing at me.”

She shook her head, her hand going to cover her mouth. “No. Not laughing.”

She was laughing. Even after that kiss!

Was she not as… as consumed as I was? I had to get myself together, or at least put her in her place. Which wasn’t laughing at me with kissable lips and hard nipples, which actually were, poking against her top.

No question they were doing that on purpose.

“You’re under the amusing assumption that you’re in charge here,” I said, although I wasn’t sure if “here” was Hunter Valley, my fire station, my house, my son, my job, my cat…

I crossed my arms over my chest. Maybe it would keep me from touching her again.

“That even with all the chaos you’ve caused, I’ll be led around by my dick. ”

She arched a brow and looked down at the front of my pants where the outline of my dick, which I didn’t think had ever been harder, couldn’t be missed through my jeans.

“You’re the one who dragged me in here.”

The sass on her!

“I won’t be eating out of the palm of your hand,” I added.

“It’s not the palm of my hand I want you eating out,” she countered, then bit her lip. Her cheeks flushed prettily. Hell, everything she did was fucking pretty because I doubted she even cried in an ugly way.

I groaned, then gave up the fight and tugged her close and kissed her again. This time, my hands cupped her ass and held her against my dick. My knee nudged hers apart and I could feel her heat against my thigh.

“Dinner’s ready!” Andy’s shout came through the door loud and clear.

I let her go once more. “Fuck,” I breathed. Control? What control? I needed a six-year-old to keep me away from her.

Georgia swiped her finger over her mouth to fix her lipstick, then made her way to the door and into the kitchen.

I couldn’t follow her, not now. With clarity, I realized I still didn’t have the upper hand.

Because Georgia was in the other room with my family enjoying spaghetti and meatballs, I had to think about water pressure ratios in my head to cool off and to get my dick to go down.

Who was in charge? Not me.

FUCK!