“I’m not. I won’t. I’m sorry,” she said, her tone full of contrition.
That knot unwound, and he nodded. “So tell me the truth. Do I seem like the type of guy who’d screw you over?”
She sighed, but smiled softly. “No. You don’t seem like that kind of guy.”
He raised a hand and brushed the back of his fingertips against her cheek. Her skin was so soft. She smelled so good. “You tell me what kind of guy you think I am.”
She leaned into his hand on her cheek. “A good guy,” she whispered, her voice breathy as her eyes never strayed from his.
He nodded, glad that she’d said it. That he hadn’t put those words in her mouth. “I am. I am a good guy,” he repeated.
“You are. You really are,” she said, angling her hips, her body seeking out contact. He tugged her against him so the only thing she felt was how damn hard he was.
This woman drove him wild. She was a pistol, a fiery, sexy, determined, tenacious woman who made him crazy, and who he wanted fiercely at the same damn time. “Do you want to try that whole thing again? Like you were doing in your room. Take off my shirt, and strip off my shorts, and pull off my boxers?”
Her lips quirked up. “I didn’t get to the boxers.”
“I know,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Damn shame. Because I like it when you touch me. I like it when you take my clothes off and run your hands all over me. Do you like it when I do that to you?”
She nodded. “So much. So incredibly much,” she said, her voice breathy.
He backed her up against the railing, pressing his pelvis to her and caging her in with his arms. “Are you sure?”
He ground his hips against her, letting her feel the full length of his arousal.
Her breath came fast. “So sure,” she said, wrapping her arms around his lower back and tugging him close. “I want to finish what we were starting in the room.”
He laughed loudly and deeply. “Oh Steph. We barely got started. We hardly got started at all.”
She grabbed his shirt. “Can we please just fuck it out now?”
He cracked up at her question, at the sexy desperation in her voice. “Fuck it out?”
She nodded. “Yes. Your anger. Our mistrust. My doubt. Can we just once and for all fuck it out and let it go?”
He clasped her cheeks in his hands. “I can’t think of a damn thing I’d rather do now than fuck it out. Besides, it’s impossible for me to think straight and properly plan the next phase of Project Diamond unless you put your hands on the railing, bend over, and raise your skirt for me.”
Her eyes lit up, sparkling with a naughty kind of excitement. “Then please allow me to help you think straight.”
He laced a hand through her hair, yanked her close, and planted a hot, searing kiss on her delicious lips. She melted under his touch, and he loved it. Loved the way she responded.
As he kissed her, he lowered a hand to her leg and inched his fingers up the warm skin of her thighs, quickly finding what he wanted—the wet scrap of fabric between her legs. She was so damn turned on, just like he was. He groaned as he kissed her, his bones vibrating with lust as he ran his fingers against the evidence of her desire. He tugged off her underwear, broke the kiss, and spun her around.
Covering her back with his chest, he wrapped her hair in his hand and tugged gently. She gasped and arched her ass higher. Yup. That was his answer. She liked a little rough play. He brought his mouth to her ear. “Do you like it hard? Do you like it rough? Do you like it angry?”
She turned her head to look at him. “With you, so far I like everything.”
He grasped her chin and held her gaze, staring at her. “Good. Stay here.”
He headed inside, grabbed a condom, and returned to the gorgeous sight on his balcony—Steph, with her sundress bunched up above her hips, her panties on the ground, and her lovely, delicious body ready for him.
“Take off your shirt,” she said, her voice all dreamy sexy.
He grabbed the hem and yanked it off. “Why did you want it off?” he asked playfully.
“Because you’re hot. I like looking at you.”
“But you’re going to be looking at the ocean.”
“I like feeling you, then. That OK?”
He unzipped his shorts, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. “You like feeling me. Hmm. Why’s that?”
“Because your body is insane, and I love the way it fits me.”
“It?” he asked, with an arch of the brow as he tugged off his briefs. “It?”
“It. You. Your body. You’re so hot. Looking at you turns me on,” she said, her eyes on him as he rolled on the condom. He was so damn ready. Needed this so badly. He’d wanted her since this morning. Mostly, he wanted to get rid of all the frustration stemming from their cat-and-mouse games. No better way than the physical. It was the one thing that didn’t lie. It was a language comprised only of truth. There was no doubt to the way she glistened for him. To how hot she was. To the lift in her hips, the look in her eyes, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed hard.
There was nothing but truth to the way he ached to fill her.
He positioned himself at her slick entrance, and in one delicious thrust, he pushed inside her. All the way. They moaned in unison. He snaked an arm around her chest, sliding his hand between her breasts and up to her neck. Then he pumped.
Like that, with a rough, hard rhythm, he showed her the truth.