Misplaced Hands: 4 (Foreign Affairs) by Lexxie Couper, Mari Carr Read Free Book Online Page B

Sports Illustrated in a bikini.
    But the Harper in the back now, the one who looked sweet and innocent and very feminine…
    Christ, his dick was so damn hard it was a wonder there was any blood left in his brain to drive.
    When was the last time he’d been turned on by a sweet, innocent anything?
    He flicked a look at Marc, who sat beside the American. The wind tugged at his shirt, giving Keith flashes of the tattoo on Marc’s chest. He’d been with the stupid bastard when Marc had gotten the tat. Paid for it, in fact, when Marc realized he’d left his wallet back at Cobar’s main pub.
    It seemed Thomo was just as taken by Harper Shaw as Keith was.
    The idea made his already throbbing cock throb harder.
    He didn’t allow himself to think too much about that. In fact, he’d refused to think about Harper and her effect on his body since he’d kissed her.
    Okay, that was bullshit. He’d jerked off the last couple nights to the thought of that kiss, keeping his actions clandestine. Thomo slept in the room next to his. The walls of the hired hands’ houses weren’t exactly soundproof and Keith didn’t want his mate, or the two new young jackaroos in the room on his other side, to hear him.
    He didn’t consider himself the kind of man who took pleasure in the body of a woman he’d barely met. That wasn’t the kind of man his parents had raised him to be. His dad—Cobar’s police sergeant—saw firsthand how poorly a lot of women in the Outback were treated and certainly expected better of his son.
    Life in the Outback wasn’t easy for anyone. It turned boys to men quickly. It turned men hard equally fast. Could turn them into bastards if they weren’t careful. Keith knew that all too well. He’d watched his uncle, Farpoint’s one-time horse-breaker, become bitter and violent and contemptuous. Had bore witness when his father had come to Farpoint thirteen years ago and arrested his own kid brother, Keith’s uncle, for domestic violence.
    His dad had hated to do it, hated even more that Keith—who lived on the station with his mother, the station’s resident cook—had seen it all. The violence, the rage, the impotent self-hate.
    For Keith, a young boy of fifteen, it had been a brutal lesson.
    Nothing sweet or innocent belonged in the Outback.
    And yet, here was Harper Shaw, looking sweet and pretty and innocent and so bloody feminine he could barely breathe.
    No wonder he was messed up.
    He looked at Marc in the rearview mirror again, the young man’s cheeky grin sending a tight, indefinable shard through Keith’s chest.
    Marc was his best mate. They did everything together.
    As if aware of his gaze, Marc swung his attention to the ute’s rearview mirror, his stare connecting with Keith’s in the glass.
    Hurry up , Marc mouthed before turning back to Harper.
    Gritting his teeth, ignoring the pulse of straining pressure in his groin, Keith pressed his foot harder to the accelerator. The main billabong on Farpoint Creek Station was five kilometers up the road. The sooner he got into the cool water, the better.
    Of course, that would be tricky while he was sporting a bloody inconvenient hard-on. He didn’t want to scare Harper. Stripping off and plunging into the water had seemed like a good idea when Marc suggested it an hour ago. “Let’s take Harper for a swim. Show her what life on Farpoint is like. She spent all day Sunday with the boss and all day today teaching. Bet she’s keen to blow off some steam.”
    Neither Keith nor Marc addressed Big Mac’s claims the American woman was gay, and when Keith had tried to call Amy in Chicago yesterday to ask, she hadn’t answered. Didn’t surprise Keith in the slightest. It had been one a.m. where she was. She was either sound asleep or partying hard.
    So here they were, with a woman who may or may not be gay, about to swim buck-naked together.
    Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. How the fuck did he let Marc talk him into stuff like this?
    Because he makes your