Not What You Seem

by Lena Maye

  “How manly?” I grunt it out. “Like pretty-green-bedsheets manly?”

  My leg shakes, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep standing, especially with my thigh. She must notice because she pushes me backward into the seat, kneeling in front of me and continuing to watch as she strokes me.

  “I was thinking sexy-gray manly.” She leans forward, taking my head into her mouth. And her name rises to my lips. She takes me deeply a few times, and then… I completely change my mind.

  “Okay, taking it back.” My head falls back as she takes me deeper. “I’ll wear anything.”

  I slide from her mouth, and she crawls up to straddle me. “Anything?”

  “Yep, anything.” My hands rest on her hips, my eyes tracing over her breasts and up to her face. She’s watching me closely.

  “I’m yours.” I smooth my bound wrist up her side to the round curve of her breast, and my thumb plays over her nipple. “I trust you.”

  She watches my thumb, but I think she’s also seeing something else. Her hand moves up slowly, catching the line between her fingers.

  I pull her to me and nibble along her neck. She’s so warm and addictive, and with one twist of her hips, she knows how to bring me inside of her. But I don’t pressure, don’t ask. She’ll take me when she’s ready. She’s been on birth control since we left, so there’s no reason to stop. No reason to have anything between us but skin.

  Except we do have one thing right now. Her fingers follow the path of the line around my wrist, circling it. I keep kissing her, touching her, telling her exactly what I think.

  That she’s perfect.

  That she’s mine and I’m hers. That I’m so deeply turned on and I want to do this with her. I want her to take me. I want to take her.

  My words blend with so many thoughts and kisses and touches. Light moans waterfalling from her as I bend her back to suck a tight nipple into my mouth and then eager words as I pull her up and she grinds against me. She still doesn’t take me inside. I think she’s waiting—still a little unsure, maybe.

  Just when I think I’ll need to push her to the next step, she grabs my hand from her hip and leans back to bring my wrists together in front of me. She takes a deep breath and winds the line around both of them. Her eyes heat as she pulls the line tight. She meets my gaze.

  And, holy fuck, I thought I’d been turned on in the past. But the look she gives me…

  Like I’m hers.

  It’s something so far beyond anything I’ve ever felt that I just want to hang there for a while. Sort it out. Remember this moment.

  She shifts her hips, and while I’m still taken by the way she’s looking at me, she slowly sinks down on me. Everything around me flashes white. Everything except Ella. Her head tips back as I fill her, and when I’m deep inside her, she takes my hands and brings them over her head. My wrists are bound behind her back. And somewhere in my state of being so hard and turned on that the world is fuzzy, there’s also relief.

  We’re here. Finally.

  She arches back, her breasts pushing out beautifully, and I feel her fingers tugging at the line. Wiggling against mine. The rope tightens—like the fabric earlier—and I realize that she must have pushed her fingers under it. She’s bound to me.

  The realization hits me full force. Warming my entire body. My entire fucking life.

  She didn’t want to tie me up.

  She wanted to tie us together.

  I think my heart stops. This woman never stops surprising me. Never stops taking me to new places. Around the world is just the beginning.

  She meets my gaze with those dark eyes, moving faster, pulling herself up higher, and I don’t hesitate to go with her. I disappear into the feeling of being so deep inside of her that nothing else matters. Nothing else even comes close. Especially not as she whispers my name, arching back. I catch her with our bound hands, and she sinks against them. Trusting me to keep her from falling. Complete, wordless trust that makes my chest expand.

  I watch her. Listen to her. Feel the way she’s starting to tremble, her breath coming stronger and faster. Her eyes slide shut when she repeats my name. I know the moment before she comes. She doesn’t have to tell me—I can feel her tensing, her need blooming. Then she lets go, and every part of her becomes so raw and alive. Her musical voice as she moans louder, her skin as it warms, her eyes as they focus on me again. Erotic, beautiful. And mine.

  The sense of ownership is even deeper because I know it’s returned just as fervently. I see it in her gaze as she appraises me after her orgasm abates. With my wrists bound and her on top, she’s got complete control, and she uses it. Her strong thighs push her up so I’m only halfway inside of her. She tempts me with shallow strokes. And, holy fuck, it just makes me want her more. My dick aches for her.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. My self-control wavers, but I keep it in line for her. Always for her. The way she tempts me, teases me—every single time. It’s incredible. I used to say good, but we’re far past that now.

  She smiles because she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and then she takes me so fucking deep into her that I lose my breath. I thrust up with all my strength. Bringing both of us up off the bench. Completely forgetting where we are.

  “Dean,” she warns. “You’re rocking too hard.”

  Fuck, the yacht is rocking really hard. I try to still, but my body argues against me.

  She picks up the rhythm, her eyes hot on me. “I’m going to make you come.”

  She clenches her muscles, and there’s a gripping around my shaft. My response is instant. I come so hard that I don’t care about the damn boat. We could tumble into the water, and I’d just keep pumping deep into her. I fill her, letting it all go. Just like I always do with her.

  I blink back into the world, and she’s smiling down at me.

  I lick dry lips. “You know me too well.”

  Her skin is slick with sweat, and she’s still trembling from her orgasm earlier. But her eyes have a question. Her lips part, and her fingers wiggle against my wrists. She pulls them out, and the line loosens.

  “Was that…?” Her hands go to my shoulders, and her forehead lines.

  “It was perfect.” I lean forward to catch her lips with mine. A soft, sure kiss meant to show her. But I don’t know if anything can show her how deep my feelings go. “You’re perfect. I’ve told you this so many times, but it’s like you don’t believe me.” I twist one of my wrists, and the rope starts to loosen. She might be the sexiest woman alive, but she’s clueless with knots. She’s going to be in trouble when it’s my turn.

  She takes in a slow, deep breath. “It’s just difficult to believe that you…” Her eyes narrow on me. “Wait—are you untying yourself?” She turns to see, but my wrists are already apart. I grab her, stand up, and throw her over my shoulder. Before she’s got time to realize what’s happening, I turn and leap.

  She shrieks when we tumble over the edge, both of us taking a hurried last breath before we hit the water—cold and salt that turns into a cushion that catches us, cooling fevered skin. I swim up to find her laughing.

  She splashes me. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  I flick some water her way. “Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, woman.”

  “Oh, it’s on now.” The evil glint in her eye is sexy as hell. Calling me forward. To tease her, fuck her, talk with her, build a life with her.

  So I put on my game face and swim toward her.

  Author’s Note

  Star-crossed lovers—that’s what I wanted to write when I sat down and started planning this novel. Two individuals torn apart by their families’ shared histories. Lovers who are both bound together and forced apart. In order to do that, I touched on many serious issues in this novel. And while every character in this novel is fictional, the epidemics of rape and abuse are not.

  These are realities that impact us all, and the answers are never clear or easy. The road to survivor is long and winding and
different for everyone.

  If you need someone to talk to or somewhere safe to go, please consider contacting the organizations below.

  National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

  National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1−800−799−7233

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for spending time with Dean and Ella! Would you like a bit more? If so, sign up for my newsletter and receive a free copy of a sexy extended scene that was trimmed for the novel. Just download here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/tc42bqcb43

  If you’d rather skip the free scene but would like to receive news of releases, please join my newsletter at www.lenamayebooks.com/newsletter.

  Thank you to Monika Holabird, my rock star editor. So many typos in this one! And you helped give the story an ending—I can’t thank you enough for that. (Holabird Editing: holabirdediting.com)

  Thank you to Angela Haddon, for a stunning cover and going through draft after draft. You’re a delight to work with. (Angela Haddon Book Cover Design: angelahaddon.com)

  Thank you to everyone who read and offered me incredible insights on this story. The FACPs: Marie and Kathleen. H&H: Cassandra, Immy, Renee and Laura. The 22s: Polly, Lizzie and Louise. UG Betas: Jerry, Radhika, Maggie and Dina. I’m so blessed to know and have worked with each of you.

  For my family. My patient husband and sweet son. You make me smile every day. And every morning I wake with the goal of returning the favor.

  And, finally, for everyone who reads, reviews, talks, or thinks about this book. You are amazing and unexpected. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  About the Author

  Lena Maye writes about twenty-somethings finding their way in life and love. Her books are full of second chances, shadowed pasts, and kissing. (Lots of kissing!)

  When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family—which usually involves a board game or two. She also enjoys gardening, reading, and is always up for a game of eight-ball. She lives in Colorado with her amazingly supportive husband and fabulously sweet son.

  Not What You Seem is the first novel in the Sail Away series. Her other stories include Break Me, the first book of a companion series, Truth in Lies.

  Please visit her at www.lenamayebooks.com.