Catherine Mann - A Diamond In The Rough

“Maybe he needs you,” she suggested. “People are so much more important than money or fame.”

“That’s right. You grew up poor but loved,” he said sarcastically.

Again, he didn’t fool her. She patted his cheek just a touch harder than a love tap. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Maybe I’m letting my real side show.” He turned his face to kiss her palm, then nipped it gently.

She wouldn’t let him divert her with sex. She slipped her hand back down to his shoulder. “How did we spend so much time together and never talk about these things?”

“You were right in saying I was holding back.”

She couldn’t believe he’d admitted it. “Why are you telling me now? And please be truthful.”

“I’m not really sure.” He snagged a strand of her hair and stroked the length with gentle pressure. “Maybe because there’s nothing left to lose between us. You’ve already ditched me. Why bother working my ass off to impress you?”

“You were working to impress me?” She couldn’t resist smiling.

“Clearly, I failed.” He looped the lock around his finger until he cupped the back of her head.

“Not totally.” She stepped closer, unable to resist the sizzle, especially not combined with the vulnerability he’d shown in sharing what he’d found out about his father. “I did agree to marry you.”

She arched up on her toes and kissed him. How could she not? Her body ached to be with him. They were two consenting adults, alone together, attached to no one else and both so very aware of the price of being together.

His arms banded around her, thick, muscled arms that held her with such gentle power she leaned closer until her breasts pressed to the hard bare wall of his chest. His mouth tasted of the salty ocean and sweet tea, a heady combination for a woman already teetering on the edge of losing control.

She sketched along the hard planes of his back, still damp from his swim and perspiration. So many nights she’d lain awake yearning to be with him again and now those restless fantasies were coming to life. Being away from home gave her the freedom to act on those impulses.

Stone caressed down her back to her hips, molding her closer to him, his arousal pressing against her stomach.

“Johanna,” he groaned against her mouth. “You’re killing me here. If you want to stop, we need to put the brakes on this now. It’s up to you what happens next. How are we going to handle this attraction that’s tearing us both apart?”

She dipped her hands into his swim trunks. “We’re going to sleep together again. Tonight.”

Seven

Finally, he had Johanna back in his arms again, even if just for a night. Only a fool would pass up this chance, and he was not a fool.

Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her, fully, tongues meeting and inhibitions gone. A perfect fit, just like before. Familiar and new all at once—their time apart added an edge to the need.

He backed her into the cottage, their bare legs tangling as they walked, notching his desire higher and higher with each provocative brush of skin against skin. Her fingers linked behind his neck as she writhed against him in a lithe dance of desire denied for far too long.

Impatiently, he pushed open the door with such urgency it slammed against the wall. His hands slid low, cupping her bottom and lifting her over the threshold. Once inside the cottage, he set her down, the bamboo floor cool under his feet in contrast to the heat searing through him.

Their bathing suits offered thin barriers between them, but too much right now. He bunched her whispery cover up in his hands and swept it over her head. He’d seen her in her bikini earlier—had seen her in far less—but she still took his breath away. Her simple black two-piece called to his hands, triangles begging to be peeled away.

She smiled with a siren’s gleam in her eyes. “This is usually the point where you drop your Stetson on my head.”

“I left it on my suitcase. Not too many cowboy hats on the beach while a guy’s riding a wave.”

“That’s a damn shame.” She traced the rope tattoo around his biceps, which ended in a lasso loop.

He and his cousins had gotten tattoos together when the twins had turned eighteen. He’d been twenty-one. Johanna had wanted to go with them. He’d forgotten that until just now. She’d wanted to get paw print tattoos on her ankle, but he’d known her parents wouldn’t approve.

Tracing the length of her collarbone, he lifted the diamond horseshoe necklace she wore all the time now. “I would drape you in gems, design entire lines of jewelry dedicated to your beauty.”

“Who knew you were poetic?”

“You inspire me.”

She stroked up his arms. “I’m just as happy with wildflowers and bluebonnets. That day we made love in the open and you covered me in petals is one of my all-time favorite memories.”

“Another reason you’re special. I never have to wonder with you. I know you’re here—or not here—based on me. It has nothing to do with my family or our money.” He plucked the strings behind her neck. The top fell away, revealing her breasts, pert and a perfect fit in his palms.

“You’re a savvy man,” she gasped, her nipples beading against his hands, either from his touch or the cool swoosh of the air conditioner. “I imagine you see through the sycophants right away.”

“That discernment came from practice.” He thumbed along her taut peaks, teasing them tighter until she swayed ever so slightly.

She covered his hands with hers. “You shouldn’t have to wonder about people that way. Thinking of you wondering, learning from practice—that makes me so sad.”

“I definitely don’t want you sad right now—or ever.” He hooked his thumbs in the strings along her hips and snapped them before the thought formed in his mind.

Her swimsuit bottom fell away.

She kicked aside the scrap of fabric. “If I were the sort of woman who wanted to be draped only in jewels, what would you design for me?”

“Ah, now you’re talking.” He let his imagination take flight. “I’ve always liked yellow diamonds for you. I can see long earrings that trail in a sleek, thin cascade to your shoulders.” He skimmed each spot with a kiss. “Each piece would echo the golden lines of your beautiful body. And a long, gold rope chain with a pendant that trails right...here...between...”

His mouth landed along the inside of one curve, then the other. Her breath hitched, her fingers twisting in the band of his swim trunks. Tugging at the elastic, she peeled the damp suit down and off into a pile around his feet.

He stepped out and then swept her up against his chest. “And since the jewelry would be for our eyes only, I dream of you in more erotic designs, as well.”

“Oh, really?” She looped her arms around his neck. “I can’t decide whether to be nervous or intrigued.”

One step at a time, he carried her closer to the white iron bed with a view of the water. “A thicker rope chain would circle low on your waist, resting on your hips.”

“Ah, like a lasso.” She thumbed his tattoo. “That works both ways, you know. I could pull you to me, especially perfect if you wore chaps and nothing more.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Not very businesslike.”

“We’re not in the boardroom.”

“True.” He tossed her onto the mattress.

She landed with an enticing bounce that made all the right parts jiggle just a hint. She stretched out along the puffy quilt, her creamy shoulders propped up by a pile of seashell-patterned pillows.

Part of him wanted to take in the sight of her for hours on end, and another more urgent part of him couldn’t delay any longer. He kneeled on the edge of the bed and crawled up over her, tasting his way up her bared flesh, along her stomach, teasing the diamond belly button ring with his teeth. Higher still, he took her breast in his mouth, rolling the nipple with his tongue until her needy sighs begged him for more, faster, sooner.