She was still looking to the sides, making sure no one could see them, when he grabbed her arm at the elbow and urgently pulled her to his chest. It became the most important thing of his life, holding her in his arms again. And she struggled at first.
“Don’t fight it, Sophia. Let me hold you. Please. Let me hold you,” he’d whispered. He hoped his voice was soft enough to calm her down.
She hesitated at the request, and he knew she had caved but didn’t want to show it. Her little body was shaking like a leaf. Her backbone was rigid, until he put his hand at the top of her spine and massaged her neck. Then he felt her melt into him and even bring her arms up around him, her hands smoothing over his back. There was no mistaking her need.
He let her rest her cheek against his chest. Wanted her to feel the beat of his heart, how she excited him, how he needed her close to him, how he needed to protect her from the whole world if need be. He prayed that was the message he was giving her. He was careful not to make it sexual, in case she couldn’t go as far as he wished they could go.
Until he heard her little moan as she squeezed her chest against his, her hands coming around to the front of him and reaching up to his neck, and then his face.
What he saw when he leaned back and scanned her pretty face surprised him. She had tears running down her cheeks, her makeup was smeared, the dark eyeliner and shimmering eye makeup migrating down from her eyes and over her cheeks. His thumbs removed her tears.
“Shhh. You’re safe, Sophia. You’re safe, sweetheart.”
He expected her to feel reassured, but instead another flood of tears filled her eyes, and that’s when he realized she was confused and in a lot of emotional pain, if not physical pain.
“Show me where he hurt you,” he said as he kissed her wrists one at a time. He felt the angry warmth of her bruise as he kissed the injured wrist and hand. He held it gently between his palms. Without him needing to pull her, she leaned against him and watched as he ministered to her injury, her eyes spilling over, as if his kisses would heal her. He even started to believe it too.
“So sorry, baby,” he said, looking at her mouth, hungering for the touch of those lips.
Her eyes also studied his mouth as he slowly crossed the threshold and closed the distance between them. His tongue ran along the seam between her lips, and she opened to him with a little moan. The fire in his belly ignited something more than lust. No question he wanted her, but it was more than that.
He nibbled at her mouth, careful not to go too deep or too far, but she pulled his head closer and sank her tongue deep into his mouth. Her legs parted and he could feel her pubic bone rub against the hardness of his erection.
The conversation they’d had in the little abandoned bar came flooding back. Was this the itch that she wanted scratched? Or was this something else?
For him, he wanted to soothe her, protect her, show her how he felt about her, and give her some sense of how she’d made him feel for that stolen afternoon in Savona. It was important he show her with his body that it wasn’t just sex. He wanted to give her more than just his sperm, he wanted to give her the tenderest part of him, whatever that was.
It didn’t seem right to just go full tilt into each other’s arms without something being said, without something being understood fully. Mark knew his intensity scared away most women. He had the control to hold back if she wasn’t ready for what he could give. But just what did she want? His body? His protection? The safe haven of his arms? Or was it something else?
And then he started to have those doubts again. Was he good enough? Was she just interested in his body, or something else?
What the fuck are you doing, Mark?
Something made him stop. He carefully peeled her arms from his neck, placing his forehead against hers. He kissed her injured wrist again, her palms, and her fingers, and noticed she was not wearing an engagement ring.
That set off all the bells and whistles, all the questions he knew he had to ask before he’d get nekked with this beautiful woman. She smelled fresh and lemony. Her breathing was intoxicating. Each time her chest heaved, he felt the delicious soft pressure of her breasts against his pecs.
He was going to let her set the pace. No way was he going to take advantage of her, even if he thought that’s what she wanted.
“You want to talk?” she whispered.
He nodded, still pressing his forehead against hers.
“I’m not even sure what’s going on, Mark.”
Well then, all the more reason to talk, sweetheart. “So we talk, Sophia, until you can tell me what’s going on,” he said. He tucked errant strands of her curly hair around her ear. He kissed her there, let her hear the hitch in his breathing. “I think I can handle anything you tell me, Sophia.”
She relaxed a bit at that.
They heard some scuffling at the end of the deck and saw two white-clad cooks step outside a doorway to have a smoke. They didn’t expect to see anyone else on deck and so hadn’t looked, engrossed in their Italian conversation.
She urgently found his hands and pulled him toward one of the large, orange lifeboats. She unsnapped the thick plastic covering on the doorway and slipped inside. He followed.
The boat was big enough for about thirty people, with bench seats, life vests and equipment hanging from secured clamps along the walls. Several large boxes were labeled with various kinds of safety supplies. The seats were covered in orange vinyl cushions.
Checking to see what was visible from the deck, she brought him to a private corner diagonal from the doorway. When she reached the shadows, she sat and pulled him down next to her.
She kept hold of his right hand, smoothing fingers over his arm. She stroked the frog print tat that peeked out from under his sleeve.
Drawing in a deep breath, she held it a bit before releasing it, like she was resigned to revealing something. He wasn’t sure he was going to like what she said, but there was no way he was going to go anywhere with her until he got some answers. He rubbed her fourth finger with his and looked into her eyes. He didn’t have to ask her why she wasn’t wearing the ring. He could see she was thinking about it as he rubbed her there, as she studied him with that liquid gaze that he’d lost himself in that afternoon as the sun was setting. For just a second he felt like he was back there, in her tiny apartment, drinking water and feeling the wonder of her hot and sweaty sheets full of the smells of her body mixed with his own.
He could see she was struggling.
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” He put his arm around her shoulders and held her safely, secretly loving the feel of her hair against the underside of his chin, against his neck. He held himself gently against her shaking body. God, how he wished he could turn all her pent-up emotion into passion. He knew he could love her until she shattered beneath him and set them both free.
“I’m confused,” she whispered.
“No crime in that.”
“I thought I’d feel different.”
“Um hum,” He wasn’t going to touch that one. His thumb rubbed against her shoulder in a lazy figure eight pattern. He worked to bring his breathing in line with hers, in tandem.
“I love him.”
“That asshole upstairs?” Mark asked chuckling softly. He knew the answer, but was trying to make light.
“No. Roberto is Matheus’s best friend.”
“Some best friend. I’d kill someone who treated my woman like that.”
She jerked at this comment. He’d hit a nerve.
Good to know.
“It bothers me too.”
“It should. No offense, but, Sophia, how well do you really know your fiancé? I mean, if this is his best friend, what are his lesser friends like?”
She pulled away and he removed his arm from her shoulder. Okay, so he’d crossed a line there.
“Mark, I know it sounds crazy, but that afternoon we had—” she stopped and drew in a big breath again.
He was all i
n at this point. It was either going to be really bad or pretty freaking good. He was hoping for the freaking part.
“That afternoon,” she began and looked up at him innocently.
God, he wanted to kiss her again. She kept staring at his lips, too. The lady was driving him nuts. Her body was a furnace, sending constant messages to his body parts that of course had now waked up and were screaming for more.
“It changed me.”
There it was. Did he want to hear this? Hell, yes, he did. He’d go down in flames, but he’d let her finish and take as damned long as she wanted to. Every second he could have with her thigh against his, her arms lightly brushing against his, the way her hair smelled, how good it felt to match her breathing. He elongated the breaths and she followed. She followed his lead. He was pacing her. Holy shit, she was getting aroused!
Into the abyss he plunged. Her eyes longed for something he knew he could provide, and it didn’t belong to someone who would have such an asshole friend as the prancing Brazilian stallion. It belonged to a guy who grew up driving pickup trucks and worked on his body quietly, who knew how to dish out pain, but was sent in to stop it. Who could blow up a bad guy but tenderly console a child. There were no dance floors for that kind of person, no cheering crowds or intoxicated fans.
He found the strength to say it at last. “It changed me too, Sophia. I only wish I’d met you before you got engaged. And I know that sounds crazy, but if you’re not sure, then my personal opinion is you should think about it further before committing your life to someone.”
He had to stand up. He stared out the plastic windows at the sea beyond. Something about this wasn’t fair. No mistaking the attraction. But he couldn’t take another man’s woman, no matter how much he wanted her. He braced himself and turned to face her. Looking down on her beautiful face, he knew he had to do the right thing.
“Sophia, I feel like I have to apologize. It was one thing to hook up when I didn’t know you were already taken. But now that I know you have a fiancé, it would be wrong to take advantage of you, indulge in something I know we both want, but shouldn’t. I don’t want someone that way. I don’t want any regrets afterwards.”
She examined her crossed ankles. The red dress had hitched dangerously high on her thighs. The red flower clip over her ear was askew and in danger of falling out.
“I’m going to break it off, Mark. I know now I wouldn’t have so many doubts if it was right to go ahead with this marriage.”
“Not because of me, you’re not.”
“No. Yes. Well, partly. I don’t think I’d be as attracted to you if I truly loved Matheus the way—”
It was way too soon for her to be saying things like this. He willed her to keep her mouth shut, no matter how much he wanted to hear that she felt for him even half of what he felt for her.
“It’s more than chemistry, Mark. It’s like one of those paranormal books I read, like a fating. For some reason, meeting you has turned my whole world on its axis. Does that sound absolutely crazy?”
Mark turned and looked back out to sea. Damn. The right thing was still the right thing. He was going to have to get away from her or they’d be fucking their way from Italy to Brazil. Not that that was an unpleasant thought, but it wasn’t right. She was going to have to convince him. He didn’t want to talk her into something she’d regret later.
He dropped to his knees in front of her. “No, honey, it doesn’t sound crazy.” He didn’t touch her, but she leaned over and kissed him on the lips anyway.
“Do you—” Her stopping was a good thing. Safe.
“I’m a sailor, Sophia. He stepped up to the plate and gave you a promise, and you gave yours. I can’t promise that kind of thing, sweetheart. I’ve got to be totally honest with you.”
“But maybe we could just be together without promises. I’m not sure I want anything with a date and a ring, either. I think you helped me realize I don’t want that anymore. I’m not ready, Mark.”
He held her hands in his, continuing to kneel in front of her. “Now you’re talking my language. But all this is up to you. Your call. Your decision completely. I don’t want you to have any regrets, and I don’t want to feel like I got in the way of something that would have worked for you, do you understand?”
She nodded, and then gave him that little smile, just like the one that had warmed his heart that day at the café with the sounds of traffic and footsteps on cobblestoned streets in Italy. As ancient as love stories in the Bible and before, that little smile from this woman filled his heart with hope. Perhaps he had found someone after all who could handle his ways. Perhaps she could handle his sorrow and loss. Perhaps she could soften and heal him.
“I want to give this a go, Mark. Not so I can go back to Matheus. Because I get the feeling if I don’t let myself have this time with you—no promises, here, because it might be a very short time. But if I don’t give this to myself, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I truly believe that.”
He was overcome, staring down at their entwined fingers. “Then baby, I’m your guy. For today, for the time until we get to port, and then we’ll see where it goes. If you’re sure.”
She didn’t hesitate. She kissed his fingers and smiled back at him. “I’m sure.”
Cruisin’ for a Seal: Chapter Twelve
She ached for him to touch her, and she wasn’t trying to hide her longing for him. Her body felt alive in his presence. She’d grown up loving to dance, feeling she could follow a partner’s lead, be compliant and acquiesce to his movements. That’s what good dancing was, following the man, always following the man, regardless of whether or not he kept time with the music or took even steps. Whatever he did she would mirror.
It was no different now. She wanted to follow Mark’s lead, hoped he’d take her in his arms, play her body like an instrument. Command she lean and turn, command her to show him what she wanted. When he reached out and put his palm on her cheek, she turned her head and kissed him there. She held his muscled forearm with both her hands, sliding down to his elbow and up his arm to his shoulder, over the corded muscles there and up to the strong muscles at the base of his neck. She traced the shape of his ear, moving his hair behind it, rubbing behind his ear and down under his jawline, tickling him and beckoning him to lean into her.
And he did.
The kiss was delicate. The taste of his tongue made all her lady parts ache for the feel of that tongue on her sensitive sex. She felt herself swell, becoming moist, and needing him inside her.
He removed his hands, pulled at the vinyl she was sitting on, and found it would move. She pulled the long pad next to her as they simultaneously dropped them to the floor of the little lifeboat. He guided her to lie back on the soft surface while he covered her with his body.
Their hands explored each other, his finding room under her red dress, beginning to peel down her dance stockings, smoothing over her backside, flesh on flesh. She helped him remove her underthings until she lay back naked from her waist down, watching him.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked again.
She nodded her head, watching the way a few strands of his hair fell forward at the sides of his face. She tucked them behind his ears. “I want you, Mark.”
He slammed her with a deep kiss and she heard and felt the guttural groan deep inside his chest that vibrated hers when she softened to accept him. The sound of his passion made her skin tingle. She bent her knees to the sides as he rode her mound and pressed himself against her through his cargo pants.
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about doing this practically twenty-four-seven,” he whispered to her ear as he gave her lobe a gentle bite. Her hand felt the ripples of his forearm muscles tense as his fingers found purchase under her skirt, between her legs. He gazed into her eyes and swallowed, like his mouth was parched, just as he slipped two fingers inside her.
She was filled with need, though his fingers deliciously coaxed her juices. Another de
ep groan emanated from him as he felt the slickness and ease with which those fingers moved in and out of her.
He began kissing her neck, down lower to the space between her breasts, then carefully lifting her dress up, kissing over the red satin bra she wore underneath. His tongue found its way under the fabric to suck on her nipples, first one and then the other. The delicious sucking sounds he made caused her to arch, pushing her breasts further into his mouth. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she moved up and down against his bulging package.
Her fingers breached his waistband, smoothing down his backside. With one hand he undid the button and zipper on his jeans. With his large hand over hers, he guided her to his shaft until she felt the smooth surface of his cock, then reached further to take his balls and squeeze them.
Her hand worked on his shaft, moving up and down as he groaned into her chest. He began kissing her lower, until she held his head between her palms, sighed, arched up to him. He was looking at her bare sex. With a quick inhale he dipped his head down and allowed his tongue to travel the entire length of her labia, lazily pushing aside the delicate tissues and then rubbing inside and against the walls of her channel as he pushed inside and sucked.
Her body jerked as he ran his teeth over her nub, coaxing it into a stiff little peak, causing her to hiss with delight.
“You like that, baby?” he whispered, watching her face, his lips glistening with her juices.
“I like all of it, Mark. All of it.”
“You taste so sweet,” he said before he bent and lapped at her again.
Her fingers sifted through his shiny brown hair, squeezing and then releasing his scalp. At last, the shuddering inside her belly overcame her and she arched back into a long deep moan as the beginnings of a powerful orgasm began to take hold. He fed on her passion, his face full of the delight at her taste, which turned her insides molten.
Through half-closed eyes she watched a glistening smile consume his face.
“God, Mark, I’ve missed this.”
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