One Good Cowboy(24)
Author: Catherine Mann

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 br**sts, pert and a perfect fit in his palms.

“You’re a savvy man,” she gasped, her ni**les 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.

He glanced up to see her head thrown back, pushing into the pillows. From the flush blooming over her skin he knew she was close to coming apart. He understood the urgent sensation well and slid the rest of the way up to take her lips, his erection nudging against the slick core of her. Ready. For him. Just as he was ready for her, only her, always her.

With a hoarse growl, he thrust deep inside her.

Gasping, she grabbed his shoulders. “Stone, wait.” She gripped harder, her fingernails digging into his flesh. “What about protection?”

He arched back to look into her eyes. “Aren’t you on the pill?”

“Not anymore,” she said. “Once we broke up and it was clear we weren’t going to reconcile, I stopped taking it.”

She’d thought about reconciling with him? For how long? How many opportunities had he missed to get her back only to lose her because of stubborn pride?

Have her back?

Wasn’t this just about sex now?

All thoughts too weighty for him to consider with his brain muddled from being buried to the hilt inside her again.

He hadn’t packed condoms…. And if they discussed this much further it was going to lead to a serious mood buster of a conversation. He rolled off her with a groan of frustration.

Johanna sat up with a gasp. “Wait.” She snapped her fingers. “I saw some in the honeymooners’ welcome basket on the bedside table.”