can’t believe I thought there was something halfway interesting about you.” She pushed him, preferring even anger to his continued calm. “You’re just like every other man I’ve met from Tuscany to Texas, too scared of my father to take me on.”
If the storm clouds in his murky eyes could produce, she would be drenched to the skin. Jolynn sidled a step closer, so full of pain she felt the need to unleash some of it on her nearest target. “You’reafraid of him, but you want me anyway. I can feel it. You’re not as cool as you want me to believe.”
His throat convulsed in a long swallow at odds with his impassive expression.
Encouraged, she tucked her hand inside his collar and lifted the chain free. She caressed a finger along the links, stopping at the dangling medal. His body heat lingered on the silver.
She tugged harder until the chain went taut, but still he didn’t come closer.
Grabbing her wrist, he pulled back. “You’re just using me to lash out at your father.”
His hoarse tone dashed away doubts she might have harbored about her effect on him. “So what if I am?”
Jolynn angled forward until her mouth sketched over his. She nipped his bottom lip and tugged it between her teeth. The simple touch flooded along her skin like an icy waterfall, invigorating, almost painful.
He lifted his hands, the magnificent hands she’d watched at the casino, and cradled her face in his palms. His fingers slid into her hair with the same ease he’d employed to sail a card across the table. He drew small circles against her scalp, his touch shimmering through her.
His brown eyes closed. Charles flinched as if in pain, a feeling Jolynn understood too well.
His lowering face eclipsed the moon as he claimed her mouth. His lips skimmed over hers with gentle strokes that quickly turned hungry and bold. The pounding waves echoed the pulsing of blood through her veins.
Her arms looped around his neck. She reveled in the luxurious glide of his hair between her fingers. His tongue met hers, stroking, possessing.
She pressed closer, sealing herself to him. A distant part of her brain understood that she was seeking some assurance of her worth, even on the most basic of levels. That didn’t stop her bruised heart from accepting the comfort, the blessed forgetfulness brought by his hard and honed body against hers.
Charles’s mouth slid away from hers, and she moaned her regret until he slid his parted lips across the tender flesh of her neck, kissing, tasting. His hands drifted low on her hips, lifting her against him, offering an unmistakable message of desire broadcast even through his pants, her jeans.
Her hands roamed along his back, scratching a path over the cotton of his shirt, the cut of his muscles bulging with tension. Her fingers raked lower down his back until her wrist nudged against something solid tucked in the back of his waistband, like a cell phone maybe? A shiver washed over her as she thought of all the men in her father’s world who carried guns as casually as others carried pagers and phones. She’d barely had time to register the thought when he pulled away.
The breeze sweeping across the river encircled Jolynn, jolting her as goose bumps popped along her skin. Charles stood a foot apart from her, with his hands braced just above his knees. He hung his head, drawing in labored breaths.
“Damnation.” He hissed the curse through gritted teeth. “Jolynn, go back to Dallas.”
His words, mirroring those of her father, slapped her. How she’d been sent away after her uncle’s murder. How often she’d been shuttled from boarding school to boarding school over the years. She was an adult now. She didn’t have to put up with this crap from anyone anymore.
Living in Dallas, tearing through the business world with the same wildness she went through men, wasn’t getting heranywhere. God knows, hitting on Charles Tomas hadn’t accomplished anything other than dishing up a whopping
If the storm clouds in his murky eyes could produce, she would be drenched to the skin. Jolynn sidled a step closer, so full of pain she felt the need to unleash some of it on her nearest target. “You’reafraid of him, but you want me anyway. I can feel it. You’re not as cool as you want me to believe.”
His throat convulsed in a long swallow at odds with his impassive expression.
Encouraged, she tucked her hand inside his collar and lifted the chain free. She caressed a finger along the links, stopping at the dangling medal. His body heat lingered on the silver.
She tugged harder until the chain went taut, but still he didn’t come closer.
Grabbing her wrist, he pulled back. “You’re just using me to lash out at your father.”
His hoarse tone dashed away doubts she might have harbored about her effect on him. “So what if I am?”
Jolynn angled forward until her mouth sketched over his. She nipped his bottom lip and tugged it between her teeth. The simple touch flooded along her skin like an icy waterfall, invigorating, almost painful.
He lifted his hands, the magnificent hands she’d watched at the casino, and cradled her face in his palms. His fingers slid into her hair with the same ease he’d employed to sail a card across the table. He drew small circles against her scalp, his touch shimmering through her.
His brown eyes closed. Charles flinched as if in pain, a feeling Jolynn understood too well.
His lowering face eclipsed the moon as he claimed her mouth. His lips skimmed over hers with gentle strokes that quickly turned hungry and bold. The pounding waves echoed the pulsing of blood through her veins.
Her arms looped around his neck. She reveled in the luxurious glide of his hair between her fingers. His tongue met hers, stroking, possessing.
She pressed closer, sealing herself to him. A distant part of her brain understood that she was seeking some assurance of her worth, even on the most basic of levels. That didn’t stop her bruised heart from accepting the comfort, the blessed forgetfulness brought by his hard and honed body against hers.
Charles’s mouth slid away from hers, and she moaned her regret until he slid his parted lips across the tender flesh of her neck, kissing, tasting. His hands drifted low on her hips, lifting her against him, offering an unmistakable message of desire broadcast even through his pants, her jeans.
Her hands roamed along his back, scratching a path over the cotton of his shirt, the cut of his muscles bulging with tension. Her fingers raked lower down his back until her wrist nudged against something solid tucked in the back of his waistband, like a cell phone maybe? A shiver washed over her as she thought of all the men in her father’s world who carried guns as casually as others carried pagers and phones. She’d barely had time to register the thought when he pulled away.
The breeze sweeping across the river encircled Jolynn, jolting her as goose bumps popped along her skin. Charles stood a foot apart from her, with his hands braced just above his knees. He hung his head, drawing in labored breaths.
“Damnation.” He hissed the curse through gritted teeth. “Jolynn, go back to Dallas.”
His words, mirroring those of her father, slapped her. How she’d been sent away after her uncle’s murder. How often she’d been shuttled from boarding school to boarding school over the years. She was an adult now. She didn’t have to put up with this crap from anyone anymore.
Living in Dallas, tearing through the business world with the same wildness she went through men, wasn’t getting heranywhere. God knows, hitting on Charles Tomas hadn’t accomplished anything other than dishing up a whopping
Similar Books
