by Joanne Rock
“Let me see.” He turned around, settling the longneck back into a small fridge near the forward seating. “Keith has everything from pomegranate juice to diet Snapple.” He pulled up another longneck with an unfamiliar label. “Even a sarsaparilla soda.”
“I’ll try it.” She beckoned for it, her hand meeting his on the cold bottle as he opened the top for her.
The contact spurred a swirl of awareness in her limbs. Deeper.
Pulling the drink closer, she eased away from his touch.
“Do you need anything else?” He made no move to rise, his long legs splayed out on the deck beside the whirlpool as he peered up at the night sky.
She wondered if he could read the stars on a clear night like the old-time sailors. Idly, he ran one hand through the water, his tan skin pale in the ghostly light from the tub. Another shiver pulsed over her skin and this one didn’t have a thing to do with being cold.
What would it feel like to have that hand on her body again?
“I should be all set,” she assured him, mesmerized by the back-and-forth stroke of his fingers in the water.
He didn’t crowd her. Didn’t ask to join her. But neither did he leave. They sat together in the rain on the deck, her aching body so close to a hand that knew better than any other how to bring her pleasure. She closed her eyes to try and shut out the visual of his broad palm resting nearby, but that only served to heighten her imagination. Visions of his slick touch skating up her thigh made her breath catch in her throat. Her heart skip a beat.
The quiet settled around her, the rain dulling any sound besides the soft hum of the whirlpool motor. The freshwater scent of the storm softened the usual salty smell of the breeze. Tipping her head back farther on the built-in pillow, she tried to focus on the sky instead of her enigmatic former lover with wickedly talented hands.
“Are you warming up?” he asked finally, his voice closer than it had been before.
She resisted the urge to turn and look at him. They’d agreed there would be no kissing, so the last thing she wanted was to find him too close, too tempting, and end up breaking her own rule. When willpower was scarce, why entice yourself?
“Yes.” She stretched her toes out to one of the foot jets, the pulsating action soothing her muscles. “This is great, Jack. Thank you.”
Shifting her foot, she let the stream shoot over her ankle, up her calf, until she had to admit the propulsion was more than soothing. In conjunction with Jack’s voice in her ear, the tickling pressure was arousing.
The sound returned now, warm and baritone next to her cheek.
“I hear those jets feel even better when you’re naked.”
The suggestion whispered over her like a teasing caress, her own decadent thoughts spoken aloud. She kept her eyes closed, unable to face him and risk breaking the tenuous connection. She didn’t want to return to reality now that she had him beside her again, if only for a few days.
“I’m sure they do,” she breathed, so softly she wasn’t sure he would even hear.
Should she take this further? There’d been a time when she would have acted on the impulse to strip down for him at that kind of provocation, but she was trying to behave. Be reasonable.
Not get tangled up with him all over again.
Sinking deeper into the water, she aligned another jet between her shoulder blades. The massaging throb against her skin would have been stimulating all on its own, but with the knowledge that Jack was stretched out on the deck behind her, watching her… That propelled the feeling into straight-up erotic territory.
Her back arched with the spray, her breasts breaking the surface and the tops of her shoulders meeting the rim of the tub where his one hand rested. With her eyes closed, the touch was accidental, but she could hardly regret the contact when two of his fingers trailed over her slick skin. He traced the curve of her neck. Skimmed lower to her collarbone, where his touch slipped under the spaghetti strap of her top.
Nudging the fabric to the edge of her shoulder, he pushed it over. Off. Her top remained in place, but it still felt like a major unveiling. Her breath hitched in her throat as pleasure slid through her veins in a thick, heated rush.
“I know you’re not ready for more yet, so I’m going to give you some privacy while I take a shower.”
He was leaving?
She blinked, unsure if that’s what she wanted or not. Of course, she was the one who’d insisted on those damn rules.
Nodding, she swallowed hard and told herself it was just as well that he leave now. Because heaven knew, if he stayed much longer she didn’t have a chance of keeping away from him.
“I just have one request before I go.” He still spoke softly, but there was a rough quality to his voice now.
She recognized it for what it was—the hunger of holding back. Knowing that it wasn’t easy for him to turn away soothed her just a little.
“Mmm?” Imagining what he might ask of her right now, she couldn’t envision many requests she wouldn’t fill.
But then, that’s how she’d ended up naked in the rain with him last time, her legs around his waist as he took her against a tree and made the encounter one of the most sensual moments of her life. She’d never had any restraint when it came to Jack.
Behind her, she heard him get to his feet, and she couldn’t resist turning to look at him. But he didn’t appear to be stripping down to join her. He stood over her, his powerful body obviously ready for her even in the rain and shadows.
“I hope you think of me when you undress.”
Pivoting to walk away, Jack headed for the stairs to his cabin below deck, leaving her more turned on than she’d ever been, and with nothing but a hot tub jet to take the edge off. Frustrated, she stifled a sigh of longing as she watched him go. He wanted to tease her into having more sexy fantasies about him?
Two could play at that game.
4
JACK FIGURED IF HE DIED now, he’d be eligible for sainthood for sure. Walking away from Alicia while she lounged in bubbling water, breathless and ready for his touch, was a feat that ranked close to pushing water uphill. It just went against nature. But he knew she wasn’t ready to renew their relationship yet. He’d seen the hesitation in her eyes, even if the rest of her was more than willing.
Now, as he stood under a hot shower in the small cabin bathroom, he thunked his skull against the tile wall. Maybe a cracked skull would help dissipate the visions of Alicia’s head thrown back, her body arched toward his touch. He didn’t want to make the next move. It didn’t seem right to push her when he’d been the one to walk away four years ago. She had to come to him.
Maybe if he’d just stayed on deck a little longer, she would have reached up and dragged him into the tub with her. She could have had her way with him like a ravenous, old-school sea nymph, the kind that sang men to their deaths—hopefully right after sexing him up to a blissed-out place where he forgot his own name.
But no.
He’d had to go all Joe Noble, leaving her to make a well thought-out decision on whether or not to move forward with this brief relationship reprise. The chances of her deciding in his favor would have been about twenty times greater if he’d stayed within touching distance, damn it. Sometimes he was too freaking upstanding to believe.
Speaking of upstanding, the hard-on straining between his thighs had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding any real relief tonight without her. He didn’t want any part of easing an erection that had her name stamped all over it.
Saint or colossal dumb-ass? He’d have to rethink what category he fell into.
“Jack?” A feminine voice floated through his consciousness, making him pause in the middle of the next round of head pounding.
Remaining still, he listened, pretty sure he’d just imagined her voice the same way he’d been dreaming about her hands all over him. He heard the whoosh of his own breath and the force of the shower stream hitting the tile.
“Jack?” Her voice returned,
accompanied by a knock on the door.
He killed the hot water and scrambled for a towel. He tied that sucker around his hips with a vengeance, at least until he found out what she wanted.
“Yeah?” Jack opened the door, a rush of cool air blasting his skin as the steam escaped.
She stood in the hall, backlit by the glow of the night-light in the galley. Towel around her like a toga, she was using a smaller cloth to blot the wet hair clinging to her shoulders.
“Sorry to get you out of the shower.” Her dark eyes did a slow trek south, lingering on the knot in the terry cloth at his hips before she lifted her gaze. Tongue darting out to wet her lips, she shivered. “I just wanted to see if you had a robe. Or if you thought Keith would have one somewhere. I’m freezing.”
Okay. A, she would wear something of his brother’s over Jack’s cold, dead body. And B, he had about a thousand other ideas for how to warm her up.
Neither of which he mentioned.
“Let me see.” He stalked past her into the berth, where she’d slept the night before. The sheets were still rumpled from where she’d lain—and where he’d lain with her all too briefly.
Making a quick show of checking the wardrobe, Jack barely registered what was in there. He didn’t want to see her in another man’s threads.
“I’m surprised the hot tub didn’t take the chill off.” He found a wool blanket in a chest at the end of the bed and shook it out. It smelled like cedar, but it was clean. Warm.
“At first, it did. But when I got out to get my towel, I turned cold all over again even though the rain had stopped.” She blinked up at him as he leaned closer to wrap the dark wool around her shoulders.
Only then did he notice the spaghetti straps were gone from her shoulders. No straps meant no tank top.
Just as he’d suggested, she must have gotten naked after he left. And didn’t that realization freeze all brain function in a heartbeat? One minute, he was thinking semi-rationally. The next—bam, no gray-matter activity. He paused in the middle of wrapping her up.
“What’s the matter?” She looked down at herself, probably trying to follow his gaze. “Is my towel still on?”
Her half smile was his first cue that she was messing with him. Teasing him when he was set to implode.
“Not for long if you don’t back away.” He told his hands to release the blanket, but they kept a tight grip on the hem where he held it, just above her breasts.
“It’s not me who keeps running from this.” She remained utterly still, not moving toward him. Not sprinting for the stairs.
“You had the bright idea of no kissing on this trip,” he reminded her.
“So don’t kiss me.”
He studied her for the space of two heartbeats, waiting to make sure his sex-crazy brain hadn’t misunderstood. But when she was still standing there, her damp body mere inches from his, he comprehended what she wanted all too clearly.
“Not a chance, Ally.” He lowered his mouth to hers and tasted her lips. “Some rules were meant to be broken.”
Her neck arched back, her face tipped up to his as she let out a ragged little sigh. The taste of her went to his head like a straight shot, drugging him with sweetly addictive pleasure. Tightening his hold on the blanket around her, he tugged her nearer until she stumbled against him, never breaking the kiss.
The feel of her—warm and willing—stoked a fire at the base of his spine, sending flames licking upward. The need to be inside her flared hot and fast, a primal hunger he didn’t understand. Already, this didn’t feel like a one-time thing, not with his blood pounding in his ears and his fingers hooking inside her towel to loosen the knot. But he couldn’t slow himself down. Not now.
“Did you really get naked out there?” he asked, fumbling with the fabric as he walked her backward toward the unmade bed.
“See for yourself,” she urged, her hands running down his chest to the twitching muscles of his abs.
Then the terry cloth fell away, leaving them both naked except for the blanket he’d wrapped around her. She felt so good all at once that he could hardly take in all the places that teased his senses—her thigh against his, her breast flattened to his chest, her hips cradling a throbbing erection.
“Please say you thought about me when you took your clothes off.” He hooked an arm beneath her legs and swept her up before depositing her on the bed.
From the hallway, the night-light spilled a green glow on her perfect skin. She looked so good he was afraid he dreamed her, so he made quick work of joining her there. Feeling her warm and damp against him helped make the moment more real.
“I wished it was your hands peeling off my top,” she assured him, miming the act of rolling a strap down one arm.
He smoothed one palm up her spine, arching her back so that her breast met his lips. He licked the tight peak and drew it into his mouth, suckling her until her fingernails dug into his shoulder. The scents of salt water and flowery soap teased his nostrils.
“I would have tasted every inch of you.” The memory of her had followed him halfway around the world. He’d awoken some nights sweating and aching, dreaming about his mouth on her.
Just thinking about it sent his lips down the valley of her cleavage to her flat stomach. The gentle curve of her hip.
“I would have flown apart long before you covered every inch.” Her husky words were breathless as she skimmed her fingers down his forearms. “Just getting naked had me twitchy and ready to come out of my skin.”
Pausing in his descent, he looked up to meet her gaze in the half-light.
“But you saved that for me?” The slow thud of his heart seemed to echo inside of his chest.
Her skin was pale and perfect, her breasts taut and upturned, as if waiting for his kiss. She levered herself up on one elbow.
“You give better orgasms than any hot-tub jet.”
The fire at the base of his spine morphed into an inferno. The need to possess her branded his skin and left his flesh smoking as he slid his hands down her hips to the curls covering her sex, a neat triangle between her thighs.
Sliding off the bed, he made a place for himself there, ducking a shoulder beneath one leg and cradling the other in his hand. He could hear her ragged breathing, knew she was close to the edge even before he closed in on her slick heat. But there was no stopping now until he got his fill of her.
She tensed at the first stroke of his tongue up the heated center of her. Two strokes later and she writhed in the sheets, twisting the fabric in her fists as she fought off the inevitable. A growl shuddered through him, vibrating over his lips and humming against her skin as he worked her.
Her body arched up off the bed and she cried out, her fingers clamping around his wrists as if to hold him there. As if he had any intention of leaving. He steadied her in the aftermath, easing off just enough to give her time to catch her breath before he started all over again.
Once, twice, three times she found release that way. He didn’t remember her being so exquisitely sensitive, her body so attuned to his every touch. The knowledge that he could do that to her rocked him to the core.
“Come inside me,” she whispered, lifting herself up to tug on his shoulders and pull him closer. “I need you.”
The raw want in her voice almost made him forget why he needed to hold back.
“I have no condoms. Nothing to protect you.” He hadn’t known she’d be on board the boat. Hell, he never expected they could smooth over the past long enough to share this again, even on a short-term basis.
He kissed his way up her body until he lay on the bed beside her, careful not to get too close, or he might lose all control.
“Are we too smart to trust the withdrawal method?” She splayed a palm across his chest, her calf muscle running lightly up his.
“I sure as hell hope so.” Although in his condition, he didn’t trust himself for long.
“Check the bathroom.” She pointed to the half-open door with a jerk of
her thumb. “It’s the corporate party boat, right? Someone must have gotten busy on it before. There could be a half box stashed in a medicine cabinet.”
Crazy as the idea sounded, he leaped to his feet and shoved open the door to the head.
“Nothing.” Damn it. Unlike him, Keith hadn’t been stuck on a destroyer for the better part of the last four years. Shouldn’t his sex life warrant more than this?
On impulse Jack tugged open a drawer near the bed that functioned as a nightstand. And, hello, foil packets.
“Bingo.” He held up a row of five for her to see. “And they aren’t even expired.”
She met his gaze in the dim light, her brown eyes glittering with mischief.
“Guess you have no excuses, Murphy.” Reaching up, she tore off one packet and set it beside him on the bed. “You’re all mine now. At least for tonight and four more times.”
She grinned as she rolled her hips against him in flirtatious invitation, but he couldn’t help reading between the lines. Tonight and four more times. The words underscored the time limit imposed by her relocation to Bar Harbor—a time limit that hovered tangibly between them. Tossing aside the extra condoms, he planned to make every encounter with Alicia something she’d never forget.
A SHADOW HAD PASSED through Jack’s eyes. Alicia could see it clearly, since a moonbeam peeking through the clouds spilled over his face and onto one shoulder.
But as soon as it appeared, his expression cleared again, his gaze lit with a fire from within. For her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down, wanting to feel every ounce of him stretched out over her. Inside her.
She coiled a leg around his and rocked her hips against him. And while she’d meant the action to spur him on, she nearly sent herself hurtling over the edge again. Her whole body sparked into flame every time he got near, making her wonder if he’d hypnotized her four years ago. How else could she respond like Pavlov’s dog to just a simple stroke of his finger?
His tongue?
“Ohhh.” A moan rumbled up her throat as she realized how close she was all over again. How had he held back while she orgasmed like there was no tomorrow?
