“I’m not the girlfriend type.” I grimace at my own words. He notices, and his lips twitch into a knowing grin.
“No, Skylar, you’re not the girlfriend type, you’re the marrying kind of woman.”
I gasp. “No, I am most definitely not that,” I baulk at him.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Keep telling yourself that, Rebel-girl. Keep telling yourself that, and maybe, someday, you might actually believe it.”
“You’re an asshole,” I snap.
He chuckles. “I’m not asking you to marry me.” He says it in such a way that the ‘yet’ is clearly implied, and I cringe. Misreading my reaction, he adds, “Or maybe I should.”
“No, no, definitely not,” I rebuke quickly. He snickers. “I’m having a hard-enough time committing to being here for three more days, you really think I can commit to you or anyone else for the rest of my life?”
He doesn’t say anything, he simply shakes his head back and forth. His eyes glimmer with something I can’t quite read. After a beat, he says, “But you’ve already committed to it.”
“Yeah, I have.”
I get the impression he’d do just about anything to get me to change my three days to the full enchilada and get me to go with him back to Seattle. The truth is, I could do it, work wise. I just don’t know if I’m emotionally capable of that kind of commitment.
He beams a big, bright, megawatt smile at me before wrapping his arms around me and burying his head back in my hair. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Truthfully, I do. Just the idea of not leaving in the morning is giving me some very strange feelings I can only describe as anxiety. But at the end of these three days, I will walk away. I have no choice. I can indulge, I can live in the fantasy, but reality always creeps back in.
Chapter 20
Dirk
Rebel never left my side all night. Except to get more drinks or use the bathroom. It took everything I had in me not to follow after her and find a dark corner.
A good majority of the fleet come to the bar, and we practically fill it to capacity as we celebrate the lives of those we’ve lost. It isn’t just a celebration for the crew of the Killer Whale, but of all the members this community has lost over the years. The list is long. The relationships many. From friends to family. The roots run deep. Crab fishing is very much a family business. Most boat owners and captains today are that way because their fathers or grandfathers were.
I’ve missed this.
The comradery that exists across the fleet is unfounded in most places. Except maybe the military. Every one of these men put their lives on the line to do what they love, and I think that brings us all closer together.
Having Rebel here to see it and share it is something else altogether.
Our table has been visited by countless men. Saying hello, introducing themselves to their boss, or giving her sympathy for the loss of Erron. Though, she doesn’t get emotional like she did on the boat. For lack of a better phrase for it, that ship sailed this afternoon.
As soon as Diem got here, she explained her plans to stay in Dutch until Tuesday. Diem seemed a little confused at first, but I quickly learned the man has quite possibly the best ‘resting bitch face’ I’ve ever seen. In the end, I could tell he was happy she had decided to stick around a little longer. He will send Scott home via Seattle and onto New York after dropping off Randy and Kathleen.
Though, they never actually said it, I get the impression what’s happening now is something that Randy, Kathleen and even Diem have been hoping would happen. Not just because she’s staying here and staying with me, but also because of the business. If she’s willing to finally come back around, I know that would make Randy happy. It’s too bad it took 14 years for her to see what a gem of a business she has. I don’t blame her for wanting to stay away from it. This is a business that will suck you in, drag you across the bottom of the rocky ocean floor, drain the life out of you, and leave you ragged and worn on the other side of it.
“Are you staying at my place tonight?” Rebel asks me when we’re alone again.
“Yes,” I say, hurried.
She laughs, “Good, then let’s go.”
I smile widely at her as I stand, offering her my hand. She’s been drinking, but not excessively, and I only had a couple beers after we first got here. I’m driving us back to her place.
I quickly realize how much she’s had to drink when we climb in the truck. As I’m backing out, she slides closer to me, her hand running along my chest and down my stomach, quickly finding the button of my jeans. “What are you doing?” I glare playfully at her.
“I’m hungry,” she giggles.
I shift slightly, allowing her a little more room, and she pops the button. Then I feel her fingers pulling down the zipper. My cock has been hard for nearly an hour watching her become animated and chatty the more she drank.
Her fingers work their way into my boxer briefs and wrap around my cock. “You’re fucking huge, you know that?” she giggles as she pulls me free.
I like this drunk Rebel. “Oh, I know,” I tease her.
“Mmm,” she moans, and then her tongue slides up my shaft. Her hand grabs me hard and ferociously. It makes my eyes flutter at the pleasure. Then her lips wrap around the head of my cock, and her tongue dances on the tip. Before I know it, she’s sliding down until I feel the back of her throat. She gags just a little, and her throat tightens around me. She still has a hand-width plus before she can consume the whole thing. Not that she’ll be able to do that, but she’s determined to try.
I put my hand in her hair, helping her, and she grunts and moans. My balls tingle with need. My breathing spikes. Pleasure rolls through me in waves of warm, low-burning fire.
Then she starts to move. Her hand. Her mouth, moving in tandem. “Fuck,” I growl as I briefly lose concentration on the road. “You’re going to kill us both,” I tease. She sucks harder. Faster. My hand tightens in her hair, trying to slow her down, control her just a little. “As sinful as your fucking mouth is, I do not want to come down your throat,” I growl.
She pulls up, smiling sweetly at me. “I want to taste you.”
“I don’t want to crash,” I counter. “Besides, I have no idea where I’m going.”
She laughs and sits up, leaving my cock exposed to the cold air of the truck. It’s like dipping it in ice water and he calms the fuck down. Thank god. She reaches into her purse and comes out with her phone. She does something, then an Australian accented male Siri starts talking, giving me directions to where we’re going. She pulls my phone from the cradle and replaces it with hers so I can see. Then she’s back on her knees, leaning over me, and her fingers wrap around my cock again. “Problem solved,” she chortles then she sucks my cock back into her mouth. The wet warmth makes him hard instantly, and she chokes as he grows down her throat. I chuckle softly, but it doesn’t stop her. She’s sucking and fucking her mouth with my cock, and my balls tighten, ready to fucking explode.
The Australian voice distracts me enough when it tells me to turn. We’re south of Dutch Harbor, and the turn will take us toward the cliffs that overlook the harbor.
After we’re turned, she resumes, sucking and licking up and down my shaft. Her mouth is hot and wet and reminds me a little of being inside her. She gently scrapes her teeth against my shaft, and I grip her hair tight. “Fuck,” I growl. Need and desire crash. Desperation to come consumes me. I pull her off my cock. “I don’t want to come down your throat,” I remind her.
She smirks knowingly at me. Then she reaches into her jacket and unzips her hoodie. My cock grows cold but fuck if he softens as she lowers the zipper. Before I know it, she’s reaching in and pulling her top down around her chest, then she’s pulling her gorgeous tits from their confinement. The rings and the cold of the cab make her nipples hard little gems. I groan.
She shifts, sitting back into her seat, but facing me. She plays with her nipples for a moment, tugging on the
rings in them and I have to force myself to look at the road. Then one hand disappears into her pants. “Fuck,” I growl as she moans when her hand finds her clit. “Fucking come for me,” I command her, and she moans. I can see her hand in the glow of the dashboard working herself vigorously. “Faster,” I declare.
She cries out. Her hand tugs on her nipple ring then releases it, causing her tit to bounce a bit, and I nearly come watching her. Then, she’s moaning and mewling until she locks down, her body trembling with her motions as she cries out my name as she comes.
She’s pulling her hand out of her pants when I’m turning into the driveway of the house she is sharing with Diem and Scott. I park beside his truck and grab the hand she had in her pants, pulling it and her toward me. I put her fingers in my mouth and moan around them. My cock twitches in the open as I taste her deliciousness. I clean her fingers before releasing her hand and killing the engine. I reach for the door. “Let’s go.”
I climb out with my cock still hanging out of my pants, thankful it’s dark. I manage to tuck him back inside before zipping as Rebel comes around the truck. I shut the door and wrap my arm around her shoulders as she leads me to the door.
“Will they still be awake?” I inquire as she puts the key in the door.
“I doubt it; we all slept on the plane last night. Not exactly ideal for a good night’s sleep. Plus, we refueled in Seattle and we were all awake.”
I nod as she opens the door, revealing a soft, glowing light in the short hallway that goes along the stairs. It’s a quaint little place, but nothing fancy. Nothing like what I’m sure Rebel’s apartment looks like back in New York. “Can I get you anything?” Her voice is a soft whisper.
“You,” I whisper back and wink at her. She takes off her jacket and the hoodie she’s wearing under it. I smirk when I see her shirt is still askew from the truck, and she never put her tits back into her bra. I can clearly see her nipples and the rings in them. I pinch one. She moans softly.
“Come on.” She nods toward the stairs and starts to climb them. I follow after her. For as old as the house appears to be, it doesn’t creak as we climb. I don’t bother taking in the house. There isn’t much to see once the muted light from downstairs fades. There’s another light emanating from a doorway just ahead, and she heads toward it. We pass an open dark door, and I peek inside to see a decent sized bathroom. Another door on the opposite side is closed, and I can see a glow under it. That must be where Diem or Scott is sleeping, because she takes me to the open door. She turns, ushering me in.
The room isn’t small, but it’s not large. Simply decorated with a bed, a vanity, dresser and two doors that appear to lead to a closet and a bathroom. I sense her follow me in when the hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I feel her warmth. There’s a rush of air as she pulls the door closed and I turn on her. She smiles at me as I press her against the door. I bring my lips to hers and kiss her. Her breathing hitches and she moans, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her. Pulling me into her. I groan and wrap my arms around her lithe, slender frame, feeling her chest press against me.
My cock never went down from the truck, and it flexes and strains against my jeans. I press into her, letting her feel just how hard I am and she moans. Her hands release my neck and slide down to my shoulders. She finds the lapels of my coat and pushes them apart, pushing my jacket down my arms. I release her, allowing her to dump it on the floor behind me. I couldn’t care less. Then her hands are in the hem of my shirt, pulling up. I smirk against her lips and break the kiss, pulling back enough that she can lift my shirt up, then I lift my arms and my shirt falls away. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I breathe as I reach for her shirt. I quickly pull it off her. I was right—her tits are hanging out of her bra. I bend down, sucking a tight peak into my mouth. She grabs the back of my head, holding me to her. Her fingers find my binder and pull it free. My hair falls around my face.
“Don’t stop,” she mewls. Her hand grips my hair, holding me to her. I flick my tongue against the turgid peak, catching her nipple ring in the tip of my tongue and tugging on it. She moans. Her hand leaves my hair as soon as she realizes I have no intention of letting this thing go. She glides them slowly down my arms and over my abs until she finds the button of my jeans. I slide my hands around her, finding the clasps of her bra and quickly undo them. I use the clasps I just unhooked to pull her bra off and down her arms. It’s redundant since I have free access to her nipples, but I want it out of the way. She releases my jeans long enough to let her bra fall to the floor, then her hands are back, tugging on the waistband of my jeans, and I smile with her nipple still in my mouth. I scrape my teeth along it gently, capturing her ring and tugging before releasing it.
“Use your words,” I groan.
“Off, pants, now,” she growls.
I chuckle and slide them down my legs. I stop above the knees and make a move for her other nipple. “All the way,” she says softly.
I snort. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a thing for my leg.” I wink at her, but maneuver to kick off my shoes. I use her shoulder for support and she takes it. As soon as they’re off, she kicks off her shoes, and then her hands are in her pants, pushing them down. Then they’re gone, in a pile on the floor as she kicks them away.
“Not your leg, just you, all of you. Even the broken and missing parts of you,” she says sheepishly.
My heart swells in my chest.
She moves from in front of me, grabbing my hand and leading me to the large king-size bed where she pulls back the covers and climbs in. I turn, sitting on the side of the bed next to her. “I really hope you mean what you just said.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Take it off,” she murmurs. She moves so that she’s sitting behind me on her knees then wraps her arms around me. “It doesn’t bother me.” She kisses my shoulder. Her lips are a warm comfort. I lean forward, taking her with me as I pop the latch. “Do all prostheses have latches like that?” she asks. The question is innocent enough.
“No, not even the one I wear everyday has them. I had this one specially made because of the boat. Which is why it’s hurting today. It’s tighter than what I’m used to.”
“Want some help?”
I smile. “No, beautiful, I got this,” I tell her softly as I reach down and pull it free.
“Does it still hurt, now that it’s off?”
“It aches, yeah,” I tell her as I rub my thigh again. “You wouldn’t mind doing what you did earlier, would you?” I inquire her softly.
“Absolutely.” She hugs me and moves off the bed. She kneels before me. She rubs her hands together quickly to warm them before she reaches for my thigh, just above my knee and she kneads her palms and fingers into my flesh, slowly working her way up and then back down again. She never drops below my knee.
“God, that feels amazing,” I moan.
She smiles sweetly at me and keeps massaging my thigh. I gradually feel the tension loosen in my leg. I let her continue for another couple minutes before I lean forward, putting my finger below her chin and lifting her face to look at me. “Thank you.” I lean forward a little more and capture her lips with mine.
She whimpers softly and moves between my legs, coming toward me. Her tits brush against my cock, and he twitches, coming right back to life. Not that he ever got soft, but now he’s angry and desperate to feel her. Sensing it, she takes my cock in her hand and gently strokes it. My eyes roll up as pleasure and need practically rip me in two. I’m so enraptured in her lips and her hand that I forget to breathe until my head is swimming. She gently nips my lower lip with her teeth, pulling back from our kiss. I pull in a deep shaky breath.
She lowers her head, her breath hot against my cock. “Take it,” I growl. Her breathing shifts as she wraps her plump beautiful lips around my cock, and I groan. I lean back, giving her more room. My hands behind me, bracing myself, she slowly begins to suck and stroke my cock in tandem. Her m
outh goes up, her hand goes down. Meeting somewhere in the middle. I can feel the back of her throat against my cock. She sucks me in until I feel her throat tighten around me. “Fuck,” I rumble. She moans, sending vibrations around my shaft. Her hand begins pumping furiously, and I feel my sack tighten. “Fuck, fuck…I’m gonna come down your throat.” My voice cracks with the pleasure she’s providing me. She squeezes my dick and sucks me all the way down her throat. I feel her swallow, and that’s it. My undoing. I put my hand in her hair, holding her steady as I unload down her throat.
She swallows every drop and moans. Her grip loosens around my cock but her mouth is sinful as she licks a fat, wet path back up my shaft, finding that sweet spot on the underside and exploiting it. She makes my legs twitch as she licks me clean. I can’t take it anymore and I lift her off it. “Get on the bed,” I tell her. She shivers but does as I’ve asked, climbing into the bed and laying down in the middle of it. I shift, turning toward her and settling myself between her legs.
Her beautiful pussy stares me in the face, glistening with her juices, and I lower my mouth to her clit. I flick my tongue against it. She moans, her back arches, and her hand goes into my hair, holding me to her. I growl into her sex as her delicious taste hits me. Prolonging her agony, I suck her clit into my mouth. It’s the perfect size for sucking and stroking with my tongue, and I don’t let up. Even when I slide my thumb inside her.
“Oh fuck,” she breathes, her back arching deeper, pressing her sex into me. Her hands slide up her body and find her nipples. She’s tugging up on the rings, pulling on them. Then she releases them before rolling her tight peaks between her fingers. Her pussy clenches around my thumb and I start to slowly fuck her with it. In and out in slow, tedious circles. She brings her right hand back to my head, and she presses me deeper into her and I suck her clit into my mouth hard. Her legs tremble briefly, then freeze, and then she’s crying out my name as she comes undone.
Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 17
