Romancing the Girl Read online

  Justine shook her head again.

  “Oh.”

  “Aimee…” Justine walked closer and took a breath. “Are we—is this…” She adjusted her glasses and smoothed down her hair. “Is there something here. Between us?”

  “Umm…” Aimee looked to the side. “Between us? Like…what?”

  “Like since that kiss, I can’t stop thinking about doing it again.”

  “Oh. That kind of something.” Aimee nibbled on her lower lip. “I thought you didn’t believe in—uh…romance, or whatever.” Aimee was sure the burn of the blush rushing through her face was going to ignite at any moment.

  Justine took a deep breath. “I don’t.” Raising her eyes to Aimee’s, she smiled. “I’m not asking to be romanced.”

  Oh, what the hell, Aimee thought to herself and lowered her mouth in a swift, possessive motion.

  Justine’s arms were instantly around Aimee and pulling her closer. It felt like they picked up where they left off the other day.

  The kiss was all lips, tongue and fire. Spinning Justine against the wall of the shearing shed and hoping it didn’t collapse, Aimee bent her knees so they were eye-to-eye and pressed her body against her.

  Justine responded by clutching at Aimee’s bottom with one hand while tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of Aimee’s neck with the other.

  Aimee’s hands were on Justine’s hip, at her sides, over her breasts, against her neck, in her hair, and eventually following the same course downwards until she gripped the back of Justine’s legs and lifted her from the ground. Using her body to brace Justine’s weight against the wall, Aimee continued kissing the inviting warmth of Justine’s mouth and began to grind slowly against her.

  Justine wrapped her legs around Aimee’s waist and rolled her hips to match Aimee’s tempo.

  Their carnal dance continued for several minutes, and forced to breathe, Aimee’s mouth was soon on Justine’s neck while the woman began to shudder and utter encouraging moans into her ear.

  A second later, the spell was broken when hot, snuffly air and whiskery lips hit them both in the side of the head.

  “Jesus, Kite,” Aimee snapped as she was forced to drop Justine to her feet and move away from the mare. One look at Justine made Aimee tip the corners of her mouth up. The woman’s glasses were askew and she was biting her lips in an effort not to laugh. It didn’t last, and the sound of Justine’s laughter did strange things to Aimee’s insides. Distracting herself from identifying those emotions, Aimee pulled the Justine back against her and kissed her slowly, deeply, and far more languidly than she had intended.

  “Wow,” Justine said when Aimee pulled away.

  Aimee tried to catch her breath and find an explanation for how good that just felt.

  “Aimee?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take me home.”

  ***

  They took the horses on the short ride back and settled them into their stalls. Closing Kite’s stall, Aimee nibbled at her lower lip as she watched Justine. Twice now they’d started something they couldn’t finish. It was an experience Aimee hadn’t had before, and around Justine, every sense was heightened. Her scent, light and sweet, was becoming quickly addictive, and Aimee’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over the woman’s body when she wasn’t looking. Studying the curves of the Justine’s backside in the jeans she had chosen to wear that day, Aimee tried to imagine the sight without the denim covering it. Glancing up as Justine’s body twisted in her direction, Aimee found herself caught in the act.

  She blushed as she tried to formulate the words to invite Justine into her bed. How does one say, please let me see you naked?

  As Justine walked over to her, it appeared words weren’t necessary. Pulling Justine tight against her, she mapped the woman’s mouth with her tongue. Justine tasted like berries and felt spine-tingling the way she moved against her. Needing and wanting more, Aimee began to tug at the woman’s polo shirt, trying to remove it from her jeans.

  Justine pulled back and put a trembling finger on Aimee’s lips. “Not here.”

  Blood and lust pounded through her body at the suggestion behind those words. “My bedroom is close,” Aimee said.

  Justine nodded and yanked her up the stairs. They barely made it inside the hay loft before they reattached at the lips.

  “Bed?” Justine asked into her mouth.

  Answering her by dragging her across the room and around the low partition, Aimee pulled off Justine’s top and pushed her to the bed. Scattering clothing around the bedroom, they came together like a storm. Violent, exhilarating, and intense.

  Covering Justine’s naked body with her own, Aimee plunged her tongue into the woman’s mouth and possessed the air in her lungs. Breaking away with a gasp, Aimee descended on Justine’s neck, lavishing the soft pale skin with nips, licks, and sucks of her pulse point. Fingers clawed at her back and gripped her arms as Justine canted her hips upwards. So frenzied was Aimee, she granted the woman’s silent pleas and dropped her thigh against her searching pelvis. The moan that followed made Aimee tremble and seek her own pressure to the point throbbing between her legs.

  Wet and slippery, they continued to grind against one another until it wasn’t enough. Pushing her fingers through damp curls, Aimee unapologetically thrust into Justine and made the woman emit the most delightful scream. Aimee’s forehead dropped to Justine’s collarbone, and she worked her fingers in the woman whose sounds of pleasure were doing all manner of naughty things to her body. Twisting and curling, she felt Justine tense for a long moment, and then she was suddenly thrashing her hips against Aimee’s hand. Crying out nonsense words, Justine’s inner muscles clenched around Aimee’s fingers in orgasm. The culmination of sensations broke the walls of Aimee’s building pleasure, and she tumbled down right alongside Justine. She’d never experienced anything quite so intense before and never had she orgasmed with such little attention from her bed mate.

  I’m in so much trouble, Aimee thought to herself as she carefully slipped her fingers away from Justine. They lay together, chests heaving, staring at the ceiling. Soon, the craziness of the entire situation hit Aimee, and she couldn’t help the wave of chuckles that overcame her.

  “What?” Justine whispered beside her.

  Looking at the woman, Aimee smiled and indicating the pair of them. “This. It’s insane. We apparently don’t even like each other.”

  “That’s because you’re impossible.” Aimee’s heart flipped when Justine smiled back in the most honest, expressive, gorgeous smile she’d ever witnessed. A sliver of pink tongue poked out between bright white teeth. The dragon was a chameleon. A chameleon with a sexy-as-hell smile. Aimee kissed the look right off her face.

  Consuming each other again and again until their energy ebbed to exhaustion, they tangled together and drifted into unconsciousness.

  ***

  Blinking her eyes open and finding Justine tucked up against her groaning at the rude intrusion, Aimee smiled. Then Mitsy jumped up on the bed and licked their faces. Who let her in?

  “Aimee!” Sally screamed across the loft, jolting her out of her peace.

  “Shit,” she muttered. Reluctantly untangling herself from Justine, Aimee yanked on her jeans and undershirt. “What!” she yelled at her sister when she rounded the partition.

  “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The production woman.”

  “The dragon is missing?”

  “She’s supposed to be up at the old sheds with Joey, but no one’s seen her since you took the girls up to Joey this morning. Please don’t tell me you dumped her body somewhere.”

  “Then I suggest not looking down the old well.”

  “Jesus, Aimee, you didn’t.”

  Aimee threw her hands up. “What do you take me for?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you. You two are bloody volatile. Seriously, what’s with the instant declaration of war on this woman?”

  Aimee sh
rugged. “She’s a pain in the arse.”

  “Yeah, only to you, but I think that might have something to do with being downright horrible to her. Now, where is she?”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea where she is. Perhaps she wandered off and fell down the old well all by herself. What do I care?”

  “Ugh.” Sally turned and stalked off to the back door. “Some help you are.”

  Sally moaned. “If I find her down that well, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “So don’t look there then.”

  Sally muttered her way out of the loft leaving Aimee alone with Mitsy and Justine.

  Walking behind the partition, she sat on the bed and smiled shyly at Justine, who was sitting up wrapped in a bed sheet and patting Mitsy.

  “Dragon?”

  She shrugged. “Blame the suit and the eyes. You dressed so severely and your eyes are amber and reminded me of a predator, like a panther or something. Only I like cats, so I went with a dragon.”

  Justine shook her head. “You really are peculiar. Do you know that?”

  “I try.”

  They smiled at each other, soon finding the need to touch. Leaning in simultaneously, they shared a lazy kiss that bordered on becoming heated. Justine pulled back with a sigh.

  “I better go.”

  “Do you have to?” Aimee asked, unable to stop touching the woman, placing soft kisses across her bare shoulder.

  “Unless you want to be charged for murder, then yes, I do.”

  Aimee chuckled against her skin. “Okay.”

  Justine was smiling at her when she cupped Aimee’s cheeks to draw her gaze back to those amber eyes. “This…” Justine looked at the messed up bed. “…was really unexpected.”

  Aimee nodded in her hands, having a feeling she knew what was coming. The age old goodbye after a one-time fling. The urges sated after a quick romp. It was her norm, her modus Operandi. “Mmm. Let me guess. It was a one-time thing? A mistake?”

  Justine grazed her cheek with her thumb. “No. Definitely not a mistake, just…really unanticipated.”

  Aimee’s eyes widened. “Okay, I didn’t expect that.”

  “Neither did I,” Justine replied letting out a long breath.

  “So…?”

  “So…” Justine leaned in for a chaste kiss. “I have to go and prove your innocence.”

  Aimee moved back to give the woman space to swing her legs out of bed. Having not been afforded the time to sit back and study Justine’s features during their afternoon sexual marathon, Aimee felt her breath dissolve watching her dress. Lean, bronze, and curvy, the woman was a true beauty. She was staring at the swell of breasts shaping the shirt and vest Justine put on when fingers clicked in her face.

  “I’m up here.”

  Aimee smiled and stood, pulling Justine against her for a brief but passionate kiss.

  Justine pulling herself away with a rush of breath. “Wow. Okay. I need to go before…”

  Aimee gave her a cocky grin earning herself a narrow-eyed glare.

  “Yep, leaving now.” Justine picked up her shoes and headed for the door.

  “Uh…maybe…you know, you could, like, later…” Aimee swallowed. A casual lover who had never bedded the same woman twice, this was new and scary territory. “Maybe we could…umm…catch up later. Or you could come back here and umm…we…” Aimee huffed.

  Justine blinked at her. “I’m assuming you were asking me back for…what? A drink or something?”

  “Yeah. Something.”

  “I will, but under one condition.”

  “Yeah?”

  “No more cocktails.”

  Aimee grinned. “Deal.”

  “I’ll see you then?”

  Aimee accepted Justine’s parting kiss and watched her go with a lovesick expression on her face. Left staring down an empty stairwell, Aimee sighed to herself and smiled. Shaking her head, she shook off the amazement that she’d only officially met the woman who lost her hat a couple of days ago, and the snarky little firecracker whose neck she wanted to ring more than once, had turned out to be the most passionate and satisfying lover Aimee had ever known. They did say there was a thin line between love and hate.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day was a hive of activity. The shearers began to arrive in dribs and drabs, and slowly took over the shearer’s quarters over the course of the day. Sally relocated the film crew to the house, with the soundman and the cameraman being forced to share a disused formal dining room, and Justine making a bedroom in the office that housed a large couch. Aimee was off with Gav clearing the fence lines at the south and mustering more sheep into pens for the shear, and Joey was up at the shearing shed with the contestants and the film crew. With everyone scattered across the property, it was left to Sally to clean up after the breakfast rush.

  An hour later, dishes were done, benches were wiped, and a cake was cooking in the oven. Sally took a moment to take a deep breath and enjoy the quiet.

  It was short-lived.

  Robbie crashed through the kitchen and attacked the fridge making Sally scream. “Robert James Higson! You were not raised in a barn or on a bloody speedway track! Slow down, or so help me God, you’ll be scrubbing toilets for a month.”

  The boy, who had frozen the instant he saw his mother, cringed.

  “Where’s the fire?” Sally asked him.

  “I was hungry,” he said sheepishly, holding the fridge door open.

  “Well, pick something before you let all the cold air out,” Sally said, pulling off her oven mitts. “How was the filming this morning?” she asked, knowing Robbie was hovering around the camera men and his uncle. That, and he loved helping out the shearers. He was truly his father’s son.

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  Sally resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the summary from a twelve-year-old.

  “Mum?” he mumbled around a bite of apple.

  “Yes, honey?” Sally asked, searching her cupboard for icing sugar. “Drat,” she mumbled when she couldn’t find it.

  “Huh?” Robbie frowned at his mum.

  “Sorry. Icing sugar. Go on, honey, what did you want to say?”

  “When people hate each other, do they hold hands?”

  “Uh…” Sally blinked. “Not usually, no.”

  Robbie nodded and frowned.

  “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged.

  Sally huffed a breath of exasperation. “I swear, getting information out of you and your father is like wringing out sandstone in hope of finding water.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Sally put her hands on her hips and bit her bottom lip as she stared at the cooking cake through the oven door. “Robbie, fancy doing me a favour?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “Can I have a soft drink?”

  Extortionists. That’s what her children were. “Soft drink is for weekends only.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Sally raised a hand. “However, I really need icing sugar. So if you could duck over to Miss Gerhardt’s cottage and see if she has some, then yes, you may have a can of drink. One. Singular.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mum. I get it. Just one. Geez.”

  Ruffling her son’s hair, she said, “I need the icing sugar first. It’s in the flour box. Pink label. Fine white powder that tastes like sugar.”

  “Mum,” he whined, escaping her touch. “I know what icing sugar is. What do you take me for?”

  “An impertinent son?”

  He made a face and snatched a biscuit from the tray Sally had baked earlier.

  “Hey!”

  “Back in a minute,” he called out, rushing through the door.

  “Woah!” Justine said, taken aback as she tried to enter the house.

  “Sorry,” Robbie said on his way past her. “Mum, I’m taking my motorbike.”

  “Helmet!” Sally shouted after him.

  “Y
eah, yeah,” came the distant reply from Robbie.

  Sally shook her head and smiled at Justine. “Kids.”

  Justine laughed. “Yep. Hey, umm, have you seen Aimee around?”

  “No, sorry, she’s out in the paddocks this morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh…umm…I was thinking about getting some more stock footage of the area around where Joey took his dates. I was hoping Aimee could show me around.”

  Sally knitted her eyebrows together. Why did Justine sound shy all of a sudden? “I’m sure she won’t mind. She shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Oh. Good. Umm…I’ll go and sort the cameras then.” Justine pushed open the kitchen door. “Thanks.”

  “You’re…welcome?” Sally said, trailing off as Justine strode away. “Weird.”

  ***

  Dirty and grimy after playing in the dust and with bales of hay all morning, Aimee returned to the homestead with the intention to wash with record speed. She told herself she wasn’t desperate to see Justine after not having seen her since the previous afternoon thanks to being commandeered by Gav yesterday evening.

  Aimee prided herself on not relying on anyone. She was a woman that knew her mind, had grand plans for the future, and had long mapped a road towards it. She had learned how to be independent early and had a fierce work ethic to match. Still, she was reeling over the new dimension Justine had added to her life in the past forty-eight hours and hadn’t been able to get her out of her mind all day. More than once she had been so distracted by the woman with amber eyes, that she had twice over-shot the track she was supposed to be driving on, cleared several hundred metres of the wrong fence line before she realised it, and took three attempts at shutting the gate on her way back to the homestead. Thanks to her absentmindedness, she’d been the butt of Gav’s jokes all day long. Bastard.

  “Looking schmick,” Gav said as she walked out of the homestead wearing her best jeans and a close-fitted tank top.

  Aimee groaned.