by Julie Leto
She gasped at the sudden and brief contact.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, flicking his finger over his tongue. “Nice and sweet. I’m going to have to have more of that. But not too much more. I wouldn’t want to fill up.”
His licks were tentative, barely grazing her labia, which continued to pulse maddeningly. When he braced his hands hard on her thighs, she knew he was going to gorge himself on her, to fill her with a feast of sensations she had not experienced in far too long. But he didn’t. Instead, he took tiny sips, detailing his enjoyment and describing, in detail, everything he noticed about her body under the pressure of unfulfilled desire.
“So plump and tasty. Pink and moist,” he whispered.
“You’re torturing me.” She struggled against the bonds, which suddenly chafed against her wrists and ankles. She could use the safe word—or in this case, the safe phrase, but to what end? It wouldn’t be the truth. She could never love him again. Never.
“And you’re doing the same to me, Jess. I’m so hard I think I might break. I could slide into you right now without any resistance. Or could I? Hmm, let’s test my theory.”
He slipped his finger inside her and at once, every nerve ending in her body flew into high alert. At his second finger, she screamed out loud. But not in orgasm. Oh, no. His touch was too slow, too lax to push her over the edge. As he intended, his unfocused touch drove her mad with want. Her heartbeat was so strong in her ears, she could barely hear him declare how she felt like hot velvet on his hand.
Then he was gone. Her breasts bobbed with her labored breathing. Despite the birdsong from the island, the whistle of the wind and the crash and flow of the waves, she heard a tiny rip of foil. She said a prayer of thanks, knowing that finally, he’d ease the ache that had built inside her so that she could hardly see.
Again, he was above her, balancing on his arms and blazing a path of kisses over her shoulders and across her neck. His erection, moist from the lubricated condom, pressed against her. She cried out, expecting him to push inside, but he only continued to kiss her until she couldn’t think.
“Leo, please,” she begged.
“Please what?”
“Come inside me,” she replied.
“That’s not the safe word.”
“The safe word will make you stop.”
“Right,” he said. “If you say it, I’ll stop teasing you, taunting you, bringing you close to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. I can do this all night, Jess. Taste you. Tempt you. Rub your nipples raw and suck on your clit until just before you come, and then stop and let the wind cool you down until I’m ready to stoke you up again. Doesn’t sound so awful, actually. Sounds pretty fabulous. Maybe I’ll stop—”
“No!”
He was climbing away from her, but her declaration made him pause. She wanted him inside her. Now.
“What do you say, then?”
The words caught in her throat, which had swollen with a combination of need and humility—not humiliation. Leo’s little game had made her feel desirable and naughty in the most liberating way. That was what he did to her. Always. Since the beginning. Wanting her as badly as he did, he still held back. Stopped himself. Practiced a restraint she could not have exhibited if not for the ropes holding her in place.
He wanted her badly enough not to take her until she said the words.
Until she confessed.
“I love you, Leo. I love you. Now make love to me before I lose my mind.”
8
MAYBE IT WAS all an illusion. Maybe it was all a lie. But high on the rush of hearing Jessie say those words, Leo didn’t care. He made short work of untying her bonds and the minute he freed her ankles, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight. When he released her wrists, she grabbed his cheeks, kissed him hard and pressed her pelvis against his until he had no choice but to give in.
The moment his flesh slid into hers, every minute of suffering he’d endured before now was worth the excruciating pain.
Velvety and warm, her body accepted his like a fine kid glove on chilled fingers. He pressed deep, but not hard, and in an instant, her insides clenched and spasmed around him. She cried out, and her voice skittered over the water and then was lost in the wind. Even though he tried to remain still so she could crest, the rocking boat ensured that the sensations did not stop until she’d had her full release.
But it wasn’t enough. She clutched his buttocks and started to rock. Her nails bit into his flesh and tiny whimpers sounded from the back of her throat. He broke their kiss to look in her eyes, but she’d shut her lids so tightly, he thought for a moment she might be in pain.
“Jessie?”
“Don’t.”
He stilled, but that made her groan even louder.
“No, Leo. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
He moved to kiss her, but she shifted her head to the side, her eyes still closed. Battling emotions rolled off her like foam atop churning waves. Need and fear. Passion and uncertainty. Challenging her now, questioning her motives or resolve, would gain him nothing. Instead, he surrendered to the basic, raw sensations pulsing through his blood. He pumped slowly at first, but then she grabbed his shoulders, lifted her bottom and met him thrust for thrust.
Moving harder and faster, he was seconds away from nirvana. She, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as close, having crested moments before. He slipped his hand between them. Barely a touch later and she was flying. He sped up his tempo until they both fell.
Leo’s lungs ached. His eyes stung from heat and sweat. Despite the breeze, the night was warm—but nowhere near the incendiary temperature of the body beneath him. Bracing his hands on either side of Jessie’s face, he waited until clarity returned to her dark brown eyes.
He expected to see regret. Maybe even anger.
But neither made an appearance.
Instead, her eyes were like the still surface of the ocean at daybreak, exposing none of her emotions, but reflecting all of his. The intensity made his throat clench.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
Despite the prick of cold from her sudden stillness, Leo couldn’t move away. Okay, so he’d made it relatively impossible for her to not say that she loved him. But not utterly impossible. If she still hated him to the depths of her soul like she had when she’d first found out he’d cheated, she would not have made love with him tonight, no matter how much he tempted and tortured her. His touch had not been unwelcome and that alone had given him hope. He’d merely taken advantage of what she had not been willing to believe—that she still had feelings for him, even if the bulk of those emotions were lust and desire.
“I’m going to grab a blanket. Maybe something for us to eat,” he said.
Again, she only nodded.
He dashed below deck, grabbing a cold bottle of white wine from the cooler, along with glasses, some cubed cheese, and a chenille throw he kept in his stateroom. When he returned top deck, she was still sitting atop the cabin, her legs crossed, her fingers toying with the lines he’d used to hold her still.
Her hair caught the breeze like a mainsail. The moonlight on her long, luscious neck made his mouth water. He’d just fulfilled a fantasy he’d had for ten solid years and yet, he had not had enough. Would he ever?
He set the wine and cheese down beside her, then draped the blanket over her shoulders. She snuggled into the material, then glanced up at him, her eyes still searching his. He poured them both a glass of his favorite pinot gris, which she accepted without comment.
“So,” he said, a little more loudly than necessary in the stillness of the night. “How ’bout them Bears?”
She laughed, downed half her wine, then turned toward him with a smile dancing across her chocolate-brown irises. “I guess we’ve known each other too long for awkward moments.”
“We’ve had nothing but awkward moments for ten years, Jess. I don’t know about you, but making love to you again was the
opposite of awkward. It’s like nothing ever happened to end what we had.”
She finished her wine and extended her glass so he could pour more. “But something did happen.”
“Yeah, I was a stupid jerk.”
“A stupid, drunk jerk,” she amended. “Or was that part a lie? Because you always seemed pretty cognizant of the amount of alcohol you imbibed, even when you were in college. The guys almost made you the permanent designated driver.”
Leo looked down at his wineglass and realized he hadn’t yet taken a sip. The time had come—the confession he’d kept stored for ten years. Even when she’d first confronted him with his cheating, he hadn’t told her the whole story of what had pushed him to act so out of character.
But now he had nothing to lose—and potentially everything to gain.
“I was a lightweight,” he started. “One beer or glass of wine is my limit. Anything else and I get stupid. I learned that in high school.”
“But that night?”
In theory, clearing the air was something he’d wanted to do for years, particularly if it meant repairing their relationship. But now, going back in time to talk about that memory struck him hard—in the heart and in the ego.
“I don’t want to make excuses, Jess. I seriously messed up, start to finish. I was freaked out about something I’d done and went to a kegger with some guys from the dorm and drank more than I should have. The guys had to half carry me back to the dorm. Took three of them to toss me up into my loft. Must have been hours later when she climbed into bed with me. She was naked and willing, and I was still toasted. I assumed it was you.”
“I never would have slept with you if you were drunk,” she pointed out.
He nodded. “Yeah, had I been sober, I would have realized as much and my whole life wouldn’t have imploded the next morning when you came by to pick me up for class.”
She looked around, running her hand appreciatively over the sleek wood of the boat. “You’ve done pretty well for yourself.”
“Financially, yeah. Professionally, great. But personally? There’s never been anyone like you, Jess. And after ten years, I’m pretty sure there never will be.”
She stood and took her wine with her to the bow of the boat. The blanket slipped off her shoulder, revealing skin that glistened in the light from the stars and moon. She was so beautiful. So irresistible. And yet, so lost.
He joined her, finally taking a mouthful of wine. The flavors of pear and almond smoothed his palate, reminding him of why he loved this particular vintage. The ability to drink great wine, travel the world and experience a thousand different pleasures came with his success as a yacht designer and captain of several cup-winning vessels. But none of it amounted to much more than a patch to cover the wound he’d inflicted on both of them the night he’d betrayed Jessie. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what he’d lost, but he’d had to spend an entire decade working out a way to heal not only his loss, but hers.
The answer had been sex. Hot, unrestrained, over-the-top sex.
But was it enough? Or did he have to go for broke?
He’d taken a step toward the stairwell when she said, “I think you may have romanticized our relationship, Leo.”
“Hard not to,” he replied, his attention diverted from the evidence he’d kept of his love for her. He’d carried the box with him ever since that morning—ever since he’d allowed his fear of a committed future to cloud his judgment. “It was a romantic time.”
“But it wasn’t real,” she insisted. “It was all hormones and freedom and exploration. We were kids. And the minute things got hard, we were done.”
He couldn’t deny that they were young. Too young. And yet, their age hadn’t kept him from doing something that had scared the crap out of him so much at the time, he’d gone out drinking and ruined his future.
“You were done,” he said. “I was never done loving you. If you would have let me back in—” he started, but she speared him with a weary look that stopped him.
“What kind of idiot would I have looked like if I’d forgiven you?”
“Looked like to whom? I only cared about you.”
“And I care—cared—about you. I loved you, Leo.”
He raised an eyebrow, hoping an injection of humor might dispel some of the sorrow muddying her eyes. “Just a while ago, you claimed to still love me, or was that just something you said so I’d finish what I started?”
She glanced down, but he hooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. Finally, he spied emotion within the stormy, decadent depths of her irises. If he could get her to tell him the truth, to dig deep within herself, he’d know what to do next.
“Tell me, Jessie. Which was it?”
She closed her eyes, but only for a moment. When her gaze met his this time, the confusion and pain there nearly cracked his chest.
“Honestly, I’m not sure anymore. And I’m not sure I’ll ever figure it out.”
9
THE CONFESSION exhausted Jessie’s entire store of strength. When she’d agreed to this excursion with Leo, she’d been sure of herself, determined to have wild, hot sex with her ex and then leave him behind once Bianca had thrown her bouquet. But now, only hours into their trip to the Keys, she’d lost her resolve.
He’d made her say, “I love you, Leo.” Out loud. And as much as she’d like to think she’d only complied in order to give her body the release she’d so desperately needed, she suspected otherwise. The phrase had sounded natural. Liberating. The uplifted sensation in her heart that had immediately followed her declaration couldn’t be denied. She’d been suppressing the sentiment like a devastating secret. Even from herself.
Had she meant it? Did she still love Leo? After all he’d put her through? She did not know the answer, but until she did, she’d never move on from the relationship she’d thought had ended years ago.
Leo accepted her decision to go below deck with no argument. She showered in the cramped head, dried off with towels that smelled like sunshine and sea salt, then climbed into his bed. Planning for a weekend of sex, she had not packed any pajamas and wasn’t entirely comfortable rummaging through Leo’s drawers again. When she’d explored the cabin earlier, finding all the sexy toys he’d brought on board had been funny. Exciting. Intriguing. They’d always been fearless in their sexual pursuits and Jessie had never found that comfort level with any other man.
However, right this minute, she didn’t want to think about sex—especially when Leo was above deck, still sweaty from their lovemaking and probably, knowing Leo, not entirely satisfied. Yes, their bondage game had resulted in the most explosive orgasm she’d had in years, but good sex always made Leo want more sex. And while she’d always loved that about him, she couldn’t help wondering if his insatiable quality had contributed to his cheating.
Though she burrowed beneath the comforter and the chenille blanket, she never warmed enough to sleep deeply. She drifted between remembering how he’d brought her to sexual heights she hadn’t scaled in years and experiencing a nightmarish replay of the morning she’d discovered him in bed with another woman.
Jessie’s subconscious couldn’t conjure a single detail about the woman she’d found him with. Not her hair color, her height or even her build.
She wasn’t important.
Leo was what was important.
Their past made her who she was—a woman who’d been wandering for way too long and who did not trust the men whose lives intersected with hers. Her father had died so young. Leo had betrayed her in the cruelest way.
And yet, she had to forgive him. If she didn’t, she’d never move on.
She was dreaming about swimming upward, pushing through the currents of the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean when the bed sagged beside her from Leo’s weight. She was immediately aware that he was as naked as she was, but his body brought warmth to the shivers she’d suffered throughout the night.
“You’re like ice,” he s
aid, immediately spooning his body against hers.
“Maybe I should have brought that parka,” she joked, her teeth chattering.
“Maybe you just need me.”
“Yeah,” she confessed, shifting her bottom so that his semi-hard sex nestled between her cheeks. “Maybe I do.”
For a split second, his muscles tensed, but she relaxed into his warmth until his tight reaction melted away. Little by little, his heat transferred into her. He ran his hands up and down her arms, creating a friction that first only brought her comfort and warmth, but then ignited her senses. The scents of the Gulf clung to him—the salted breeze surrounded him like another layer of skin.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Heaven,” he replied, gently kissing the back of her neck.
She couldn’t contain her laughter. “I didn’t know Heaven was off the coast of west central Florida.”
“Mmm,” he confirmed, his lips buzzing against the skin just above her collarbone. “Heaven is wherever you are, Jess.”
As he nuzzled, his sex grew harder and longer. The intimate transformation against her body made her quiver.
“You always have the right words,” she said.
“Not always.”
His tone dipped low with regret and Jessie turned around. Now, his erection curved against her stomach, the head pressed tight to her belly button. She tried to ignore the thick length of him long enough to say what she had to say.
She stared into his ocean-hued eyes and willed herself not to get lost in their flecks of azure, turquoise and sapphire.
“Sometimes you said all the right words, but I wasn’t ready to hear them.”
“Like when I said, ‘I’m sorry for betraying you’.”
A reluctant smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, like then.”
“Are you ready to hear it now?”
Without consciously deciding to do it, she lifted her hand to his face. His cheeks, rough with stubble, felt like silk beneath her touch. His lips, slightly cracked from the wind, quaked beneath her exploring thumb as he inhaled and exhaled with increasing heaviness. When she finally mustered the fortitude to look into his eyes again, she lost her ability to breathe.
