Harper backed her against the cool tiles and slid one hand between her thighs. “I’m here.”

Presley threw her head back as Harper filled her, the pressure and pleasure catapulting her to the edge. She gripped Harper’s shoulders, digging her fingers in as the spasms radiated from deep within her, ripples in a pond, spreading and spreading. “Oh God. I’m coming.”

“Yes,” Harper breathed.

Presley needed to see Harper’s face, but the pleasure was so intense, for an instant she was blind. She shuddered, and when she could focus again, Harper was there, filling her, taking her, like no one ever before.

Chapter Twenty-one

Harper didn’t know how long she’d been in the shower. The water beating against her back was beginning to cool, but her blood still burned. Every sense was saturated with Presley—her taste, her scent, the silky glide of her skin. The soft catch in her breath when she started to come. She buried her face in Presley’s neck and ran her hands over Presley’s back to her ass. Realizing she was leaning on her, she mumbled, “Am I too heavy yet?”

“No. You’re good. Better than good.” Presley rested with her head back against the tiles, her eyes half-open, one hand clenched in Harper’s hair, the other lax against the shower wall. “I can’t move anyway, and I like the way you feel against me.”

Harper liked it too. More than she’d ever imagined. “We’re going to lose the hot water in a couple of minutes.”

“I don’t care.”

Harper chuckled. “You will.”

“Uh-huh.”

With a sigh, Harper braced her arm against the wall and pushed away, severing their connection. Instantly, she wanted her again. She enjoyed sex, although she didn’t think about it much and never set out on a date with sex as a goal. This was more than sex—this need to touch Presley, to explore her, to undo her, was a craving that fascinated and, in a way, terrified her. What happened to the craving if it went unfulfilled? Did one die of hunger or go mad from yearning? She felt nearly mad now, and Presley was only a few inches away.

“What are you thinking?” Presley asked languorously.

“I’m not thinking anything.” Harper wasn’t sure even her thoughts were her own at the moment. Her mind was an electrical storm of raw nerve endings.

“Yes, you are. Your eyes just went dark, the way they do when you’re thinking serious thoughts.”

Harper settled her hands on either side of Presley’s shoulders, keeping her caged, not wanting to let her away too quickly. “How do you know that?”

Presley’s smile was secretive and seductive. “I’ve been watching you.”

“I know. You do that a lot.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not when you’re watching me.”

Presley’s brow raised just a little bit. “Who else do you think I’ve been watching?”

“Flann.” Harper had never once in her life been jealous of her sister. Not when Flann hit better than her in Little League softball, even though she was the oldest and bigger and should’ve been stronger. Not when the girls in high school, even the seniors a year or two ahead of them, chased after Flann and never her. Not even in college when they took the same courses and once in a while Flann would beat her on a test. They were almost always evenly matched, physically and intellectually, but Flann always had an edge. Always the sharper sword, the faster wit. The pirate to her navigator. Not this time, though. This time there was no room for Flann.

“I don’t look at her like I look at you.” Presley curled her fingers through Harper’s hair and tightened her fist at the back of her neck. She kissed Harper hard on the mouth, then lightly on the jaw and lighter still on her throat. “Not once. And I never will.”

“I don’t have any right—”

“You’re right, you don’t.” Presley bit Harper’s shoulder lightly and Harper growled. “But it’s true all the same. And my choice.”

“Thank you. I already get crazy enough when I look at you.”

Presley licked the water running down Harper’s neck. “Do you?”

“You couldn’t tell?” Harper caught Presley’s chin between her fingers and kissed her, deep and long. “We have to get out of the water.”

Presley stroked Harper’s chest. “Afraid of the cold?”

“No. I want you again, in bed, under me.”

Presley’s breath hissed in and she raked her nails down Harper’s back. “Are you asking or telling?”

“Do I have to ask?”

“No. Because I want you again too.”

*

Flann pulled in to the White place a little after six thirty in the morning. She’d driven by Harper’s and seen the two cars in the driveway. Her first thought had been Go, Harper! but almost immediately a fist of unease had settled in the pit of her stomach. Presley Worth was the first woman to come along who had the ability to shred Harper’s heart. Considering all the circumstances, that possibility was likely. Flann couldn’t just stand by and watch. She left her Jeep and walked around to the back door, hoping Carrie wouldn’t take her for a prowler and call 911.

Carrie sat on the back steps with a mug in her hand and something that smelled fabulous on a plate balanced on her knees. She looked up expectantly and then her welcoming smile turned to one of concern. “Has something happened to Presley?”

“No,” Flann said quickly, “everyone’s fine. I take it you haven’t heard from her.”

“Not this morning. She left a message last night that she was at the hospital, but I haven’t heard from her since then, and she didn’t come home—” She broke off and her cheeks flushed, making her look as innocent as a teenager. “Oh. Crap. Could you forget I said that?”

“That’s okay. You’re not giving anything away. I already knew that.”

“And I suppose you know where she spent the night?” Carrie asked slowly.

“I do. That will be up to Presley to tell you, though.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “As if there were a lot of possibilities.”

“Right. We can both pretend surprise, then.” Flann pointed to the plate. “Is there more of whatever that is somewhere?”

“It’s bread. With cheese or something so delicious in it I’m in danger of eating the entire thing.”

“Can I help you dispose of it?”

“I’ll get you some. Have you been up all night?”

“No. Only most of it.”

Carrie shook her head. “You’re all crazy, you know that, right?”

“All of us who?”

“All the Rivers doctors.”

“Possibly. Probably. Bread?”

“Coffee?” Carrie rose and the rooster who’d been pecking in the yard waddled toward the stairs, his head cocked.

“You’ve got a friend.”

“Presley’s been spoiling him. Now he expects breakfast.”

“That’s what happens when you feed a vagabond.”

Carrie grinned over her shoulder. “What happens when you feed wandering doctors?”

“That’s a secret.”

Laughing, Carrie disappeared inside. Flann followed and said through the screen, “Do you want me to do anything?”

“Do you want breakfast?”

“Some of that bread with a whole lot of butter will be fine for now. And the coffee. Especially the coffee.”

“Goes without saying,” Carrie called back. “Sit down, I’ll be out in just a second.”

Flann settled on the top step with her back against the porch post. The sun was up, the sky was clear, and birds were singing. She couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be or anything else she’d rather be doing. Carrie came out and handed her a cup of coffee and a plate with a thick slab of bread that smelled fresh from the oven. Carrie sat opposite her and tossed another piece of crust to the rooster.

“I think he gets bored during the day.”

“He needs some hens,” Flann observed.

“I was thinking the same thing. How do you go about doing that?”

“Plenty of farmers around here have some. There are probably even chicks left at the local feed store.”

“Are they hard to take care of?”

“Not as soon as they get big enough to run away from predators. And you’ve got the rooster. Instinctually, he’ll protect them.”

Carrie sighed. “I’d love to get some, but I don’t think we’re going to be here long enough.”

“A quick turnaround, huh?”

Carrie grew still. “That will be up to Presley.”

“But you and Presley are a team, right?”

“Wrong,” Carrie said quietly. “Presley is my boss.”

“Just in name only, I bet.”

Carrie shook her head. “No. She really is my boss, and she’s very good at what she does.”

“And what she does is take places like the Rivers and turn them into something else.”

“Sometimes. It depends on the circumstances.” Carrie’s tone had cooled. “And I don’t have anything else to tell you.”

“Fair enough. This is jalapeño cheddar, by the way.” Flann finished the bread, which was about the best bread she’d ever tasted next to her mother’s. “My sister is not a player.”

“I know a player when I see one.” Carrie stood up abruptly. The chill in her voice had turned to ice. “And I know which of the Rivers sisters that would be.”

Flann looked up at her, grinning. “No argument from me. And I’m not trying to piss you off.”

Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s get something straight, Flannery. Presley is my boss, and she’s also my friend. What she does in her personal life is her business, and none of mine or yours. I’m sure your sister is quite capable of looking after herself.”

Flann stayed sitting, letting Carrie have the upper hand and the dominant position. She liked her fire and she liked her loyalty. “Under most circumstances, I’d agree with you on all counts. But if the two of you really are only here for a short time, that means the Rivers is probably not going to stay the way it is now. Harper will fight it, and that means trouble for your friend and my sister.”