Granite Man m-4

by Elizabeth Lowell

She looked at the empty gold pan and sighed. “Well, pan, it’s just you and me. May the best man win.”

  At first Mariah tried to imitate Cash and crouch on her heels over the stream while she panned. The unaccustomed position soon made her legs protest. She tried kneeling. As Cash had predicted, kneeling was more comfortable, but only because of the thick mat of streamside grass. Kneeling on gravel wouldn’t have worked.

  Alternating between crouching and kneeling, Mariah concentrated on making the water in the pan turn in proper circles. As she became better at it, she used more water. While she worked, sunlight danced across the brook, striking silver sparks from the water and pouring heat over the land.

  Patiently Mariah practiced the technique Cash had taught her, increasing the amount of water in the pan by small amounts each time. The more water she used, the greater the chance that she would miscalculate and drench herself with a too-energetic swirl of the pan. So far she had managed to make her mistakes in such a way as to send the water back into the stream, but she doubted that her luck would hold indefinitely.

  Just when Mariah was congratulating herself on learning how to pan without accidents, she made an incautious movement that sent a tidal wave of ice water pouring down her front. With a stifled shriek she leaped to her feet, automatically brushing sheets of water from Cash’s shirt and her jeans. The motions didn’t do much good as far as keeping the clothes dry, but Mariah wasn’t particularly worried. Once the first shock passed, the water felt rather refreshing. Except in her right shoe, which squished.

  Mariah kicked off her shoes and socks, relishing the feel of sun-warmed grass on bare feet. Sitting on her heels again, she dipped up more water in the pan. Just as she was starting to swirl the water, she sensed that she wasn’t alone any longer. She spun around, spilling water down her front again. She brushed futilely at the drops, shivered at the second onslaught of ice water, and smiled up at Cash in wry defeat.

  He was standing no more than an arm’s length away, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes and a physical tension that was tangible.

  “Cash? What’s wrong?”

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Why?”

  “You screamed.”

  “Oh.” Mariah gestured vaguely to her front, where water had darkened the flannel shirt to black. “I goofed.”

  “I can see that.”

  Cash could see a lot more, as well. His soaked shirt clung lovingly to Mariah’s body, doing nothing to conceal the shape of her breasts and much to emphasize them. The frigid water had drawn her nipples into hard pebbles that grew more prominent with each renewed pulse of breeze.

  Watching Cash, Mariah shivered again.

  “You should go back to the line shack and change out of those wet clothes,” he said in a strained voice. “You’re cold.”

  “Not really. The shirt is clammy, but I can take care of that without going all the way back to the cabin.”

  While Mariah spoke, her hands picked apart the loose knot in the bottom of Cash’s shirt. She had undone the bottom two snaps before his fingers closed over hers with barely restrained power.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “Giving my bathing suit a chance to live up to its no-drip, quick-dry advertising.”

  Cash looked down into Mariah’s topaz eyes, felt the smooth promise of her flesh against his knuckles and could think of nothing but how easy it would be to strip the clothes from her and find out whether the feminine curves that had been haunting him were as beautiful as he had dreamed.

  “Bathing suit?” he asked roughly. “You’re wearing a bathing suit under your clothes?”

  Mariah nodded because she couldn’t speak for the sudden tension consuming her, a tension that was more than equalled in Cash’s hard body.

  The sound of a snap giving way seemed very loud in the hushed silence, as did Mariah’s tiny, throttled gasp. Cash’s hands flexed again and another snap gave way.

  Mariah made no move to stop him from removing the shirt. She hadn’t the strength. It was all she could do to stand beneath the sultry brilliance of his eyes while snap after snap gave way and he watched her body emerge from the dripping folds of his shirt. Where the thin fabric of the tank suit was pressed wetly against her body, everything was revealed.

  Cash’s breath came out in a sound that was almost a groan. “God, woman, are you sure that suit is legal?”

  Mariah looked down. The high, taut curves of her breasts were tipped by flesh drawn tightly against the shock of cold water. Every change from smooth skin to textured nipple was faithfully reflected by the thin, supple fabric. She made a shocked sound and tried to cover her breasts.

  It was impossible, for Cash’s hands suddenly were holding Mariah’s in a vise that was no less immovable for its gentleness. He looked at her breasts with half-closed eyes, too unsure of his own control to touch her. Nor could he give up the pleasure-pain of seeing her. Not just yet. She was much too alluring to turn away from.

  There was neither warning nor true surprise when Cash’s hands released Mariah’s so that he could sweep the wet shirt from her faintly trembling body. Warm, hard palms settled on her collarbones. Long masculine fingers caressed the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck, the hollow of her throat, and the gentle feminine strength of her arms all the way to her wrists.

  Too late Mariah realized that the straps of her tank suit had followed Cash’s hands down her arms, leaving not even the flimsy fabric between her breasts and the blazing intensity of his eyes.

  “You’re perfect,” Cash said hoarsely, closing his eyes like a man in pain. “So damn perfect.”

  For long, taut moments there was only the sound of Cash’s rough breathing.

  “Cash,” Mariah said.

  His eyes opened. They were hungry, fierce, almost wild. His voice was the same way, strained to breaking. “Just one word, honey. That’s all you get. Make damn sure it’s the word you want to live with.”

  Mariah drew in a long, shaking breath and looked at the man she loved.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  10

  Cash said nothing, simply bent and took the pink velvet tip of one breast into his mouth. The caress sent streamers of fire through Mariah’s body. Her breath came out in a broken sound of pleasure that was repeated when she felt the hot, silky rasp of his tongue over her skin. Cash’s warm hands enveloped her waist, kneading the flesh sensuously while his mouth tugged at her breast.

  Even as Mariah savored the delicious fire licking through her body, Cash’s hands shifted. Instants later her jeans were undone and long, strong fingers were pushing inside the wet denim, sliding over the frail fabric of her bathing suit, seeking the heat hidden between her thighs, finding it, stroking it in the same urgent rhythms of his mouth shaping her breast.

  The twin assaults made Mariah’s knees weaken, forcing her to cling to Cash’s upper arms for balance. The heat and hardness of the flexed muscles beneath her hands surprised her. They were a tangible reminder of Cash’s far greater physical power, a power that was made shockingly clear when he lifted her with one arm and with the other impatiently stripped away her wet jeans, leaving only the fragile tank suit between her body and his hands.

  “Cash?” Mariah said, unable to control the trembling of her voice as the beginnings of sweet arousal turned to uncertainty.

  His only answer was the sudden spinning of the world when he carried her down to the sun-warmed grass. Hungrily he took her mouth and in the same motion pinned her legs beneath the weight of his right thigh, holding her stretched beneath him while his hands plucked at her nipples and his tongue thrust repeatedly into her mouth.

  Mariah couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, and had no idea of how to respond to Cash’s overwhelming urgency. After a few minutes she simply lay motionless beneath his powerful body, fighting not to cry. That, too, proved to be beyond her abilities. When Cash tore his mouth from hers and began kissing
and love-biting a path to her ear, the taste of tears was plain on her cheek.

  “What the hell?” he asked

  Baffled, he levered himself up until he could look down into Mariah’s eyes. They were huge against the paleness of her skin, shocking in their darkness. Whatever she might have said a few minutes ago, it was brutally clear right now that she didn’t want him.

  “What kind of game are you playing?” Cash demanded savagely. “If you didn’t want sex, why the hell did you say yes?”

  Mariah’s lips trembled when she tried to form words, but no words came. She no more knew what to say than she had known what to do. Tears came more and more quickly as her self-control disintegrated.

  Cash swore. “You’re nothing but a little tease whose bluff got called!”

  With a searing word of disgust, Cash rolled aside, turning completely away from Mariah, not trusting himself even to look at her. If it weren’t for his overwhelming arousal, he would have gotten to his feet and walked off. Bitterly he waited for the firestorm to pass, hating the realization that he had been so completely taken in by a woman. Again.

  “I’m not a tease,” Mariah said after a moment of struggling to control her tears. “I d-didn’t say no.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Cash snarled. “Your body said it loud and clear.”

  There was a long moment of silence, followed by Mariah’s broken sigh and a shaky question.

  “How was I supposed to respond?”

  Cash began to swear viciously; then he stopped as though he had stepped on solid ground only to find nothing beneath his feet but air. He turned toward Mariah and stared at her, unable to believe that he had heard her correctly.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “How was I supposed to respond?” she repeated shakily. “I couldn’t even move. What did you want me to do?”

  Cash’s eyes widened and then closed tightly. An indescribable expression passed over his face, only to be replaced by no expression at all.

  “Have you ever had a lover?” Cash asked neutrally.

  “No,” Mariah whispered. “I never really wanted one until you.” She turned her face away from Cash, not able to cope with any more of his anger and contempt.

  Her eyes closed as her mouth curved downward. “Now I wish I’d had a hundred men. Then I would have known how to give you what you want.”

  Cash said something appalling beneath his breath, but the words were aimed at himself rather than at Mariah. Grimly he looked from her slender, half-naked form to the scattered clothes he had all but torn off her body. He remembered his own uncontrolled hunger, his hands on her breasts and between her legs in a wildness that only an experienced, very hungry woman would have been able to cope with. Mariah was neither.

  “My fault, honey, not yours,” Cash said wearily. He took off his shirt, wrapped it around Mariah like a sheet and gently took her into his arms. “I wanted you so much I lost my head. That’s a sorry excuse, but it’s all I have. I’m sure as hell old enough to know better.”

  Mariah looked up at him with uncertain golden eyes.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, kissing her forehead. One hand moved down her back in slow, comforting strokes. “It’s all right, honey. It won’t happen again.”

  The easy, undemanding hug Cash gave Mariah was like a balm. With a long sigh, she rested her head against his chest. When she moved slightly, she realized that his pelt of curling hair had an intriguing texture. She rubbed her cheek against it experimentally. Liking the feeling, she snuggled even closer.

  “I wasn’t afraid,” Mariah whispered after a moment.

  Cash made a questioning sound, telling Mariah that he hadn’t heard her soft words.

  “I wasn’t afraid of you,” Mariah said, tilting back her head until she could see Cash’s eyes. “It was just… things were happening so fast and I wanted to do what you wanted but I didn’t know how.”

  The soothing rhythm of Cash’s hand hesitated, then continued as he absorbed Mariah’s words.

  “Virginity doesn’t guarantee sexual inexperience,” he said after a time. “You’re both, aren’t you? Virgin and inexperienced.”

  “There’s no such thing as a sexually experienced virgin,” Mariah muttered against his chest.

  He laughed softly. “Don’t bet on it, honey. My ex-wife was a virgin, but she had my pants undone and her hands all over me the first time we made out.”

  Mariah made an indecipherable noise that sounded suspiciously like “Virgin my fanny.”

  “Say again?” Cash said, smiling and tilting Mariah’s face up to his.

  She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. He laughed softly and bent over her mouth. His lips brushed hers once, twice, then again and again in tender motions that soon had her mouth turning after his, seeking him in a kiss less teasing than he was giving her. He seemed to give in, only to turn partially aside at the last instant and trace her upper lip with his tongue. The sensuous caress drew a small gasp from her.

  Very carefully Cash lifted his head, took a slow breath and tucked Mariah’s cheek against his chest once more. She gave a rather shaky sigh and burrowed against him. Hesitantly her hands began stroking him in the same slow rhythms that he was stroking her. His chest was hot beneath the silky mat of hair, and his muscles moved sleekly. Closing her eyes, she memorized his strength with her hands, enjoying the changes in texture from silky hair to smooth skin, savoring his heat and the muscular resilience of his torso.

  When Mariah’s hand slid down to Cash’s waist, hovered, then settled on the fastening of his jeans, his breath came in with an odd, ripping sound.

  “Would you like having my hands all over you?” Mariah asked tentatively.

  A shudder of anticipation and need rippled over Cash, roughening his voice. “Hell yes, I’d like it. But,” he added, capturing both her hands in one of his, preventing her from moving, “not unless you’d like it, too.”

  “There’s only one way to find out…”

  With a sound rather like a groan, Cash dragged Mariah’s hands up to his mouth. “Let’s wait,” he suggested, biting her fingers gently. “There are other things you might like better at first.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like kissing me.”

  Cash bent over Mariah’s lips, touched the center of her upper lip with the tip of his tongue, then retreated. He returned again, touched, retreated, returned, touched and retreated once more. The slow, sensual teasing soon had Mariah moving restlessly in his arms, trying to capture his lips, failing, trying again and again until with a sound of frustration she took his head between her hands.

  The cool silk of Cash’s growing beard was an intense contrast to the heat and satin smoothness of his lips. The difference in textures so intrigued her that she savored them repeatedly with soft, darting touches of her tongue. When his lips opened, her tongue touched only air… and then the tip of his tongue found hers, touched, retreated, touched, withdrew. The hot caresses lured her deeper and yet deeper into his mouth, seducing her languidly, completely, until finally she was locked with him in an embrace as urgent as the one that had dismayed her a few minutes earlier.

  But this time Mariah wasn’t dismayed. This time she couldn’t taste Cash deeply enough, nor could she be tasted deeply enough by him in turn. She clung to him, surrendering to and demanding his embrace at the same time, wholly lost in the shimmering sensuality of the moment. When he would have ended the kiss, she made a protesting sound and closed her teeth lightly on his tongue. With a hoarse rush of breath, Cash accepted the seductive demand and made one of his own in return, nipping at her lips, her tongue, sliding into the hot darkness behind her teeth until he had total possession of her mouth once more.

  Gently Cash urged Mariah over onto her back. When she was lying against the soft grass once more, he settled onto her body in slow motion, easing apart her legs, letting her feel some of his weight while he explored the sweet mouth he had claimed with rhythmic strokes of his to
ngue.

  Mariah made a soft sound at the back of her throat and arched against Cash’s hard body. She couldn’t imagine what had been wrong with her before, why his weight had frightened and then paralyzed her. The feel of his weight was delicious, maddening, incredibly arousing. Her only dilemma was how to get closer to him, how to ease the sweet aching of her body by pressing against his, soft against hard, fitting so perfectly.

  When Cash’s hips moved against Mariah, fire splintered in the pit of her stomach. She gasped and arched against him in an instinctive effort to feel the fire again. The sound he made was half throttled need, half triumph at having ignited the passion he had been so certain lay within her. Reluctantly, teasingly, he moved aside, lifting his body and his mouth from hers, releasing her from a sensual prison she had no desire to leave. Smiling, he looked down into her dazed topaz eyes. He was breathing too fast, too hard, but he didn’t care. Mariah was breathing as quickly as be was.

  “I think we can say with certainty that you like kissing me,” Cash murmured.

  Mariah’s only answer was to capture his face between her hands once more, dragging his mouth back to hers. But he evaded her with an easy strength that told her he had been only playing at being captive before. He took her hands in his, interlacing them and rubbing against the sensitive skin between her fingers at the same time. When he could lace himself no more tightly to her, he flexed his hands, gently stretching her fingers apart. Her eyes widened as fire raced through her in response to the unexpected sensuality of the caress.

  Smiling darkly, Cash flexed his hands once more as he bent down to Mariah.

  “Want to taste me again?” he asked against her mouth.

  Mariah’s lips opened on a warm outrush of breath. The tip of her tongue traced his smile. He lifted his head just enough to see the sensual invitation of her parted lips revealing the glistening pink heat that waited for him. He wondered if she would open the rest of her body to him so willingly, and if he would slide into it with such sultry ease. With a throttled groan Cash took what Mariah offered and gave her his own mouth in return.