Diamond In The Rough: The Complete Series

by Hart, Rebel

  She shivered and shook. I held her close to me as her hands slid down my neck. I pressed my tongue deep against her swollen nub, causing her to gasp. I smiled as her back collapsed against the mattress and nuzzled her throbbing pussy lips with my nose as her hands untangled the knots she had created.

  And as I languidly kissed up her body, I readied myself.

  “I love you,” I murmured.

  She cupped my cheeks, pulling my lips down against hers.

  “I love you, too. So much,” she whispered.

  I lined myself up with her entrance. My gaze held her stare as she moaned with anticipation. I eased myself in, teasing her with just the tip. But it didn’t take her long for her to raise her hips and engulf the whole of me.

  Causing my eyes to widen.

  “There we go,” she moaned.

  I grunted. “Fuck.”

  Her nails curled against my skin. “Make love to me, Clinton Clarke.”

  My forehead fell against hers. “Don’t mind if I do, Raelynn Cleaver.”

  My hips rolled. Her body bucked. I lost myself in the swirling expanse of her eyes and the massaging of her wet walls. I breathed the air she afforded me and pinned her wrists above her head. Her tits jumped against me, reminding me of her growing beauty, of every curve and divot I was determined to memorize every night she let me. Her legs locked around me, welcoming me home from a long day looking at colorful creations for my next novel.

  “Rae, shit.”

  “Clint, oh fuck. I’m so close.”

  “Just a bit longer. I just--yeah. Like that. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  I pounded into her, going faster as my gut coiled tight. Rae’s hands slipped from underneath mine and wrapped tightly around my neck. I buried my face into the crook of her neck, fisting the sheets as the sounds of skin slapping skin filled our bedroom. A place that held so many memories, just like this one.

  I couldn't wait to make new memories in our new home.

  “I’m coming! Clint!”

  I growled. “Close. I’m close. Just one--more--”

  With one last thrust, I felt my dick twitch, growing as my balls pulled up into my body. I sank my teeth against her neck as her nails raked down my back. Her legs fell weakly against the mattress as she quivered beneath me, her walls squeezing me tight. I growled like a wild animal, rutting against her, filling her until she pushed me out.

  Then I collapsed against her, feeling her heart beating rapidly against my own.

  “I love you,” I murmured.

  She sighed with content as our intermingled juices trickled from between her legs.

  “I love you, too. So much,” she whispered.

  I nuzzled her shoulder. “You ready for the big day?”

  She held me close. “More than ever. You?”

  I nodded. “I’m ready for this transition phase to be over.”

  “Yeah, the boxes are becoming a bit much.”

  “Since when did we accumulate so much stuff?”

  She snickered. “Well, we have lived in this place for going on six years now.”

  I paused. “Has it really been six years?”

  “It really has.”

  I slid off to the side. “Wow.”

  She turned, cuddling close to me. “Yeah. I can’t believe it either, sometimes.”

  “Oh, is your mother still coming to help us move?”

  “As far as I know. I mean, she hasn’t canceled or anything. What about Cecilia?”

  He nodded. “Apparently, she’s coming with help, too.”

  She gasped. “You think she’s bringing that guy she’s been seeing?”

  “Depends. Which one are you talking about?”

  She swatted at my chest and I snickered.

  “I’m just kidding. I’m just kidding,” I said, chuckling.

  “You didn't sound like you were kidding.”

  I shrugged. “I mean, my stepmother does date around. We can at least admit to that.”

  “I think it’s great. She’s living her life on her terms with her own money, doing what she wants.”

  “In my defense, she’s been that way for a while now.”

  “It sounds like you’re concerned about it. Is this something we should be concerned about?”

  I ran my fingers up and down her back. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want what happened between her and my father to somehow taint that for her. If that makes any sense.”

  She nodded. “It does.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “What about her?”

  “Have you heard from her lately? She still going to therapy? Still doing okay with things?”

  Rae smiled. “She is. She goes through bouts where she doesn’t want to go to therapy, but that’s usually when she hasn’t taken her medication.”

  “That bipolar diagnosis ended up being a godsend, didn’t it?”

  She sighed. “I know, I know. I didn’t take it well in the beginning.”

  I chuckled. “You really didn’t.”

  She swatted at me again and I scoffed.

  “Hey! Cut me some slack. At least I waited until after the drama died down to say anything about it. That’s improvement, if you ask me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think the medication she’s on now is more of a godsend than the actual diagnosis. I never thought I’d get her out of bed when her therapist finally told her what she thought was up. We’ll get an update in a couple of days, anyway. She said she wanted to help us with this move.”

  I pulled her close. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

  Then, my stomach let out a massive roar that took even myself by surprise. Rae barked with laughter.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Was that your stomach?” she asked.

  I grinned. “Can you blame me? I just worked up an appetite.”

  She snickered. “You didn’t work as hard as you think you did.”

  My eyes snapped to hers. “Them’s fightin’ words right there.”

  “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

  I rolled her over and pinned her beneath me. She giggled as I playfully glared at her, willing her sounds to stop. She coughed and sputtered, trying to swallow it all down. And as my lips moved closer to hers, I heard her giggles turn to sighs.

  “You know what I think?” I asked.

  She moaned softly. “What’s that?”

  I nuzzled her cheek with my nose as her legs spread for me. I kissed her skin softly, blazing a slow trail up to her ear. I nibbled on her earlobe. She moaned for me as her hands gripped my own. And as she rolled against me, I drew in a soft breath.

  “I think it’s time for dinner,” I whispered.

  And I moved like lightning away from the bed before she locked those soft legs around me.

  Legs I’d always be weak for. No matter the time, day, or age of my own body.

  3

  Rae

  “You got your coffee?” Clint asked.

  I snatched up my tumbler. “Got it!”

  “What about your purse?”

  I lifted it. “Already in hand!”

  “Your coat? It’s pretty chilly out there this morning. I had to come in from the porch before I finished my coffee.”

  I reached for the coat rack. “Getting it now.”

  “Kissed your handsome boyfriend goodbye?”

  I snickered. “Get out here before I’m late!”

  I spun around and watched Clint come out of the bathroom. With a towel draped loosely around his waist, I wanted nothing more than to trace the lines disappearing behind it with my tongue. He padded with damp feet across the hardwood floors as I smiled at him. I clutched my coffee, slung my purse and my arm around his neck, and pressed my lips to his, tasting his minty breath.

  “Now I have,” I murmured.

  He chuckled. “All right, all right. Come on. You’re going to be late.”

  He swatted my ass playfully an
d I squealed.

  “Yeah, and I wonder why that is,” I said.

  He winked. “You never did object.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Love you. Gotta go!”

  “Have a good day, Rae.”

  I rushed down the hallway and slammed my shoulder into the door. I looked longingly at the elevator before relegating myself to the massive six-story trek. The elevator hadn’t been truly fixed in months. One of the main reasons why I couldn't wait to get out of this shitty apartment complex. I’d gotten stuck in it one too many mornings as well. I mean, the last time the elevator got trapped between two floors, I didn’t get to work until lunch time! What kind of fuckery was that?

  Even though I heard it humming and people chattering about how it was finally fixed, the last thing I needed was to get stuck and have to rush past my boss’s office in the hopes that she wouldn't realize I’d been late.

  Especially on such an important day.

  The publishing company I’d interned at for two years during college ended up offering me a full-time position after I graduated. In two years, I’d gone from a part-time editor to their full-time head editor with a nice salary, an office with a view, and outstanding benefits. But, just like every other job, it wasn’t without its difficulties. And today was one of those.

  Today I had a meeting with one of our premier authors to let him know his book was absolute shit.

  Unlike what most people thought about editors, I didn’t take pride in telling people that. I wanted those who sent their stuff into us to have a pleasant experience. I wanted them to walk away with something. Whether it was a contract, or feedback that truly helped them in their writing journey. Clint joked all the time that editors like me were the reason writers like him self-published. And while I knew he was being light-hearted about it, sometimes it hurt.

  I didn’t want people thinking that publishing houses were the ‘big bad’ people thought we were.

  I stepped off the last stair and panted for air. I hopped around, exchanging my flats for the pair of heels I had stuffed down in my purse and stumbled out of the side door, directly into the parking lot. After slipping my heels on, I started for my car.

  I need some damn coffee.

  I tossed everything into the back seat and slipped behind the wheel. I cranked it up and peered out the windshield, taking in the expanse of the apartment complex. It had taken Clint and me three applications to get into this place. While it was expensive, it had been worth it. In the beginning, at least. Until that damn elevator broke. And our plumbing went bad. And our balcony had to be repaired because it started getting wobbly.

  “Definitely not worth the money anymore,” I said breathlessly.

  I grabbed a croissant and a large iced coffee just in time. Things seemed to be moving in a positive direction as I pulled into the underground parking garage of Monarch Publishing. I drew in a deep breath, took a long pull of my coffee, and took a massive bite of my hot chocolate croissant. I relished the tastes blending together and signaling to my brain that it was time to wake up. Time to get to work. Time to get shit done.

  All right. Let’s go.

  After wolfing down my food and sucking down half of my coffee, I grabbed my things, raced to the working elevator--thank fuck--and took it all the way up to the top floor. All the way to where my office now was. I strode by my boss’s office, peeking in to see her head buried in manuscripts. I rushed by, taking my chance, and practically leapt for the front door of my office. As I quickly unlocked it, I heard someone shuffling up behind me.

  “Morning, Miss Cleaver! Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?”

  I cringed at the voice of my assistant. “Morning, Robyn.”

  I looked down the hallway and saw my boss look up before she gave me a knowing smile. I raised my coffee and she shook her head before returning back to the manuscript in her hands.

  “Maybe next time, a bit softer,” I said.

  Robyn nodded. “Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry. So, you have that meeting in five minutes with Albert Freddington. You have a meeting scheduled with Mrs. Plumstone at ten. She wants to go over some manuscripts she just received this morning. Also, you have a lunch date with Callie and a two o’clock meeting with the rest of the staff in Mrs. Plumstone’s office. And to cap off the day, Luther’s retirement party. It’s at four, shouldn't be more than thirty minutes. Then you’re done.”

  I sighed. “Great. Thank you.”

  “Anything else you need from me today?”

  A lightbulb went off. “Um, yes actually. Come inside and close the door.”

  “Of course.”

  I walked over to my desk and dropped everything on top of it. I started up my computer and pulled out my laptop, trying to get myself situated for the day. When I looked up, I found Robyn frowning at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Yeah, of course. I just need you to run an errand for me.”

  “Sure. What kind?”

  “The kind you don’t talk about.”

  She nodded. “Oh, you got it. I need some things myself. Plastic insert, or cardboard?”

  I blinked. “Wait, what?”

  “Shi--I mean, shoot. You’re a pad sort of girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered there--”

  It clicked. “Oh! No, no, no. I mean, plastic, for future reference. But I’m not on my period. Which is kind of the issue.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh--oh!”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is this… a good thing?”

  I considered her question. “I’m not sure? But I can’t focus. And I have this meeting in--”

  “Two minutes.”

  “Right. Two minutes. I can’t run the rest of my day like this. I need to know for sure. Do you mind picking me up a test and bringing it straight back here?”

  “I don’t mind at all. Want some water? Or are you just going to hold it until I get back?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just the test. And some gum! I ran out of gum yesterday.”

  “Any special kind?”

  I smiled. “The cinnamon kind. The burn is very invigorating.”

  She turned toward the door. “All right. Cinnamon gum and a pregnancy test. I’ll be back in a jif!”

  She slipped out the door in a plethora of flailing colors and almost got her skirt caught in my door. Robyn was always a vibrant dresser. She’d been helping me out in some form or another since I started my part-time work at this place years ago. But my favorite part of her outfits were her glasses. She seemed to have a pair for every occasion. I’d seen her wear Christmas glasses and floral-printed ones. Rainbow, and cotton candy pink, and green ones with shamrocks on them for St. Patrick’s Day. If there was anyone who could brighten anyone’s day, it was my assistant.

  I needed some of her brightness to carry with me for this meeting.

  “Miss Cleaver?”

  A man’s voice filtered through my door, followed by a knock.

  “Miss Cleaver, it’s Albert Freddington. We have a meeting now?” he asked.

  “Come in!”

  I tried to push everything out of my mind as I shook the man’s hand. I gestured for him to take a seat in front of my desk, but my mind was everywhere. I didn't know what this test was going to reveal to me. And even though Clint and I had talked about children, we’d talked about it as if it were years away from happening. We had things we wanted to accomplish first. Life we still wanted to experience as a couple, without distractions. Or other responsibilities. Or things to tie us down.

  I mean, couldn't we at least get settled into our new place first? Maybe travel around a bit? See more of the world?

  Or get married?

  “Miss Cleaver.”

  I jumped. “Yes? Yes. Sorry. Welcome, Mr. Freddington. How’s your morning been?”

  “It’ll be better once we can get this meeting over. I have an appointment with the cover designer for lunch.”

  None of this is p
art of the plan. “Well, that meeting is going to have to be postponed. At least, for a little bit.”

  He blinked. “Why?”

  I pulled out his manuscript. “I made a lot of notes in the margins like you wanted me to. But I still had to attach some paper to the back.”

  “You had to attach paper.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, while this is your third draft, it’s still reading like your first. I made some notes on organiza--”

  He snickered. “I’m sorry, what?”

  I placed the manuscript in front of him. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re ten books into a solid series. Things can lag. Or get repetitive. I’m here to make sure--”

  “You think it’s lagging.”

  “It sags a little bit in the middle. Most authors have an issue with that, though. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

  “It’s a big deal to me.”

  I sighed. “Mr. Freddington--”

  “This book is due into the hands of my audience in eight weeks. I don’t have time for a rewrite!”

  I blinked. “Well, we haven’t established a date as to when your book is going to hit the shelves. So, unless you told your audience--”

  “Of course I gave them a date. I had to! They were clamoring for it.”

  I sighed. “I’ll get our P.R. representative on the line. That can be your lunch date for today. But for now--”

  He stood from his chair. “I won’t stand for this. That book doesn't need an entirely different rewrite. It’s good as it is.”

  I stood with him. “But it could be great. That’s what I’m here to help you with.”

  He snatched it up. “I’m going straight to your boss’s office. This isn’t going to happen. I’m not writing this entire thing over again!”

  “It was nice seeing you, Mr. Freddington.”

  He flicked me off before he ripped my office door open. It slammed against the wall before he took a hard left, storming straight for my boss’s office. He wouldn't get anywhere with her, though. Not once she found out that he’d fed his fans a date we didn’t have. I pinched the bridge of my nose, reached for my coffee and took a massive sip.

  Then I heard her voice.

  “The meeting go okay?” Robyn asked.