Liquid excitement poured from her core. She caught a whiff of her own arousal and heard wet sucking sounds as Bran pleasured her. All those sensations, combined with the fierceness of his grip, increased her body’s urgency to hit that point where she flew apart.

The spiral toward orgasm didn’t begin slowly; it spun inside her as fast and furious as a tornado. “Oh, God, Bran, please.”

Somehow, despite the unusual angle of his head, Bran’s mouth fastened to her clit. When he sucked—ding ding ding! game over. She came hard and fast, digging her nails into the arms of the chair, throwing her head back, gasping his name. The man knew just how to send her soaring, and he did it without hesitation.

She was still experiencing buzzing aftershocks when he released her throbbing clitoris and scrambled to his feet.

His belt buckle rattled, the tines of his zipper made a quiet rasp, and his clothes rustled. The head of his c**k prodded her entrance once and then he slammed inside fully, with enough force to move both her and the chair forward.

“You feel so good, Harper. Every goddamn time.”

Instead of holding her hips, Bran curled his hands around her shoulders, giving him the depth he needed with every powerful stroke. His pelvis pistoned lightning fast, matching the thundering in her pulse and his harsh, labored breaths. Each relentless thrust built on the next until he shoved deep and stayed there, grunting while hot spurts heated her channel as his c**k jerked inside her. She squeezed those muscles and he swore a blue streak even as he groaned her name.

He slumped across her back, exhaling into her hair, placing kisses across her shoulders where his fingers had dug in. She loved that Bran was so affectionate in the aftermath of explosive sex. She remained quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Now I don’t wanna go back out there.” His breath teased the damp skin below her ear. “I wanna take you into my bedroom and lock the damn door for the rest of the day and all of the night. And all day and all night tomorrow too.”

Harper turned to nuzzle the side of his head, trying not to read too much into his declaration. “How long does this shindig last?”

“Usually the guys stick around the bonfire until the wee small hours. But I’m thinking tonight ... I might hurry them along a bit.”

“Mmm. I like the sounds of that.”

Pause. Then he murmured, “Harper, I—”

The hallway creaked and the bathroom door slammed shut.

Immediately Bran pulled out with a muttered curse as if he just realized they were screwing in his office where any partygoers could hear them. They hadn’t exactly been discreet. Or quiet.

Normally she’d be the one worrying if people were standing outside listening, gossiping about her reckless behavior or comparing her to her mother. But right now, sated from an intense sexual encounter with a smokin’-hot man who couldn’t keep his hands off her, she had a hard time caring what anyone thought.

The jangle of his belt broke the silence between them as he yanked up his jeans.

While she was dissecting the situation, Bran helped her stand and straightened her dress. He kissed the back of her head, twice, with infinite sweetness.

She could give her heart to this man. So easily.

“Can you stay tonight after everyone leaves?” he whispered hotly against her throat. “Just you and me, Harper. Sitting by the fire, lookin’ at the stars.” His lips brushed her ear. “I’ll even make you s’mores, since I remember how much you used to love them.”

Maybe it was too late. Maybe she hadn’t been careful enough. Because what she felt for him felt like a whole lot more than great sex.

It felt like love.

“What do you say?” he prompted with another sweet kiss.

“I say yes.”

Bran was pretty sure he had an extra swagger in his step when he returned to the party. Harper continually surprised him. He’d expected that she would kiss him crazily and play a little grab-ass before shooing him outside. But she’d given in to his demands. No, better yet—she’d given all of herself to him. Without boundaries. Without conditions. Without hesitation.

He just wished they didn’t have to pretend that theirs was an employer/employee relationship. Oh, sure, he understood the reasons they were keeping their off-hours relationship on the down low, given Harper’s mother’s reputation in Muddy Gap and how hard she’d tried to rise above it. Sleeping with her boss—and, face it, no matter how they tried to spin it, Bran was Harper’s boss. But he would do anything to protect her. Everything about the woman kicked his protective instincts into overdrive.

Still . . . he would love to exit the trailer holding her hand, hearing catcalls from his friends, seeing the knowing looks from the people in his life who mattered, who would know exactly what he and Harper had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. Instead, he had to settle for the secret knowledge of why her hair no longer looked so damn perfect while her taste lingered on his tongue.

She fit in. She fit him. She was the first woman who ever had. Maybe the only woman who ever would. And wasn’t it just a kick in the nuts that she was leaving in three short weeks?

Before that panicked feeling took hold and he did something stupid, he saw a big rig that he recognized as Renner Jackson’s pulling in, redirecting his attention.

As soon as Renner ambled toward him, he couldn’t help but razz the man. “Typical stock contractor. Shows up when the work is done.”

Renner thrust out his hand. “Sorry. Last-minute schedule change and the only one who could handle it was me, unfortunately. So—didja get ’em all branded?”