by Zoe York
“Do it again.” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming his pleasure inside.
She did it again and again until he shuddered and went perfectly still, fighting the urge to come. She was tempted to keep working him with her hand, just to watch this chunk of a man unravel at her touch.
“Wait.” With his chin on her shoulder, she could feel him gulp. “Wait.”
She stood perfectly still, caged between his body and the tree. Loving it there. Loving the weight of him in her hand.
He let out a long, deep breath as if he was in control again, but the look in his eye when he glanced at her said he was close, very close.
Something fumbled at her side: his hand, dipping into her pocket.
“I’ll be needing this now,” he said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was doing. The man liked being in control of himself just as much as she liked pushing him over the edge.
“Then I won’t be needing these,” she teased and slid her shorts slowly down her hips.
His eyes followed every inch even as his fingers unrolled the condom over his length.
She thought that would be the moment — he’d step closer, lift her, enter her. Bring her the release her body craved. But apparently, the man had one more trick in mind.
He drew her arms up over her head and pinned them against the tree, leaning so close, she could feel the insistent jut of his erection against her belly. His eyes were locked on hers, watching her reaction as he dragged his body against hers, lifting up an inch, then pulling down, like he still had to undress her but didn’t want to use his hands. Letting his cock ride up and down her belly until all she wanted was him in, in, in.
With her hands trapped, her options were limited. She curled a leg behind his calf and slid it high. Higher. She canted her leg sideways, opening her core to him. He dipped and pressed hard into her groin.
“Seth,” she whispered. She wanted to grab his ass and guide him home, but the man just wouldn’t give in. Every ripple of his body, every slow thrust of his cock was winding her up like one of those rubber band helicopters she used to play with as a kid — tighter and tighter until she thought she would snap. But he kept putting in another turn, and another, telling her he wasn’t quite ready to release his creation and let her fly, fly, fly.
“You know you want in,” she murmured. Her voice had gone all thick and sultry, but hell, this was too good to hold back for.
His nostrils flared, and she hauled him closer, thrusting her hips forward to let him feel her heat.
“I do want in.” He nodded. “Deep in.”
“So take me, pirate,” she whispered, wiggling her fingers against his.
His eyes were dark pools around tiny points of light, focused entirely on her. But he was waiting. Waiting for… Waiting for what? She was ready, she was begging, she was fighting for more—
Her breath hitched. Fighting. That was it. Every sinew in her body was tight and straining, every muscle clenched. He’d commented on that once.
You always this wound up? he’d asked.
You make me this wound up, she countered.
He’d stroked her hair gently. Relax.
Sex had never seemed like a time to relax, not to her, so she’d arched an eyebrow in challenge.
Don’t relax everything, he chuckled. Just the parts that count. He leaned closer. Trust me.
Didn’t he know how long it had been since she’d truly trusted someone? Let herself relax?
He was saying the same thing now. Relax. Trust.
But this time, that trust wasn’t just about her body. It was about her heart. Was she willing to give any man that?
She closed her eyes and focused on the pattern of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest. She drew the scent of him deep into her lungs and let the muscles of her legs, her arms, and her back unwind. Let her fingers go limp in his, one at a time. Took another deep breath and told herself to let go.
Then she opened her eyes on him and let them say the words that couldn’t quite cross her lips. I trust you.
His eyes glimmered and he smiled like a satisfied feline. Slowly, surely, he lowered her hands to his shoulders, tipped one shoulder down, and hitched her leg higher on his waist. Then he lifted the other one, picking her up off the ground like she weighed nothing and held her high, poised over the crown of his cock.
Trust. Relax.
When he spoke, his voice was gritty as thick sand. “Ready, m’lady?”
Was she ever. “Ready, pirate.”
“Good,” he added, his voice dropping low. “Because I want in. Deep in.”
— FOURTEEN —
Seth forced himself to catalog all the sensations throwing themselves at him. The fresh jungle scent that followed Julie everywhere she went; the growl of her voice against the smooth roll of waves on the beach. The feel of the lumpy coral underfoot. The pale light of the moon, showing her need. The tree behind Julie was hard, but the flesh of her breasts was soft. The rest of her was taut and toned and straining for him.
Welcoming him. Trusting him, even.
That part went to his head like a drug, because even in the week they’d spent together, she’d never ventured that far. The woman was like a treasure chest — always with a new secret, a new gem. And only open to him. The way she hesitated told him she’d never opened this far to any man. Virgin territory, in its own way.
Which made for the best kind of anticipation — even better than the first time with her that night on the beach on Santa Marta. Because he didn’t have to wonder how good it would be. He knew exactly how tight she’d be around him. How wet. How lost in the burning instinct to mate.
It was a miracle he’d made it this far with as much control, because every one of Julie’s touches lit another blaze until he was on completely on fire.
“Seth,” she moaned, drawing his name out as he lowered her slowly onto his cock.
The gradual dip, the sensation of slipping along her heated inner walls had him burning for more, fighting an inner urge to plunge straight home. But slow was good. Slow was perfect.
Slow was heaven.
He pushed his hips forward until he had her hard against the tree. Her eyes slid closed.
“Seth…” She let his name dangle there, begging for more.
He had to lower his head for a minute and take a deep breath before he withdrew and took that achingly rich ride once again, ending ever deeper than before. She was so slick and so wet for him that each move was over too soon. Those pert little tits danced against his chest, making him dizzy with lust. He wanted all of her, all at once.
“Do it again, Seth,” she breathed. “Slow.”
He grinned “You like that.”
“Love it,” she half-groaned, arching her back, drawing him in. “Love everything with you.”
That L-word was getting dangerously close to the you, and he wanted to hear more of it. Maybe even with the other words cut away.
He thrust again, deeper still. Her fingernails tightened on his shoulder, and he willed her to let the words slip. Love you. Because Jesus, he was close to blurting it himself.
He was also close to coming before she did, which just wouldn’t do. They’d had a kind of silent competition about that before, each stubbornly clinging to the edge of climax, unwilling to be the first to go over the edge. Most of the time, it had been a tie. This time? He was absolutely not going to let this wall-scaling, bike-hopping, bullet-dodging woman show him up. No way.
His dick screamed for release as his hips rocked. His heart pounded. Slow and steady sped up to fast and furious, and everything was the rub of his cock inside her incredibly tight sheath, the feel of her fingers clamping hard on his back. Each thrust pulled a gratifying little whimper out of her until she was moaning his name and making him feel like he was a goddamn pirate with his prize — his highly willing and skilled prize. She knew just how to fire off those shockingly effective inner muscles so that a ripple passed over his
dick just as he plunged through like a lion through a flaming ring.
He lost track of in and out, where he ended and she started. He just flew along for the ride until Julie convulsed around him — once, twice, three times. She let out a keening cry just as he hit the same wall and finally shot his release into her.
He blazed into the whiteout of a dizzying high, followed by a warm, dreamy haze in which he sensed her body and the sea breeze and not a single other thing. Didn’t want to. Didn’t have to, because nothing else mattered.
Something tickled his cheek. Her lips. Her weight shifted and he eased her down slowly, not wanting to break the magic. Wanting it to go on forever like some kind of never-never land.
And it might have, if she hadn’t whispered in his ear.
“What’s that sound, Seth?”
The sound of his heart, tapping out love songs in his chest?
“What sound?”
She angled her head toward the open sea, where the sound of the waves was broken by a distant buzz.
“That sound.”
His ears caught it then, and every muscle that had just been busy melting away into bliss jumped back to attention. Because that sound was a motorboat, and it was coming toward them.
— FIFTEEN —
Seth didn’t get the second half of his pirate fantasy, not with the sound of a throaty, powerful engine approaching the island at full speed. In the moonlight, the hull was only a dim silhouette, but it was there, all right — the low, sleek form of a motorboat.
“Shit.” Seth looked at Serendipity. He’d told Tobin to leave the anchor light off, but the glow of the cabin lights could be seen a mile away.
He felt Julie’s hand tighten around his forearm. “Um, a late arrival in the anchorage?”
“Could be.” Even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t the case.
“Fishing charter maybe?” she tried.
The distant roar became a quiet hum as the motorboat slowed and made a long, calculating curve one way, then another.
“Maybe,” he said, though his gut said Unlikely. What kind of suicidal sea captain would run these reefs at night?
The kind of sea captain who knew these reefs like the back of his hand. One with a very good GPS unit and a very pressing reason for wanting into this anchorage. Right now.
Part of him wanted to hide on the island; the other part urged him to get back to Serendipity. Home. Safety in numbers, if his brother could be counted on to help in a pinch.
If.
“Let’s get going.” Seth made sure it came out calm and easy, but there was no mistaking his rush in grabbing his clothes and heading to the dinghy.
Julie was quick and quiet in doing the same, though she stopped just before they pushed the dinghy away from shore. “I owe you missionary style on a coral beach, pirate.” She pulled him into a hug and mumbled the rest. “And don’t you forget it.”
Even with his nerves white-knuckling at the prospect of who might be in that motorboat, his soul soared. “Promise?”
She gave a firm nod. “Promise.”
They pushed off and hopped into the dinghy in unison. The moon rippled on the sea, glinting over the eastern horizon. Gliding over the water at night always felt like space flight to him, though tonight, he couldn’t stop to revel in the beauty of it.
His mind spun. Was it a fishing boat out for an overnight charter? A drug runner? Worse, the men who were after Julie?
He wanted to reject the thought, but it just wouldn’t let go. How would those men get out here? And how would they know where to find Serendipity? How could they even know she was on board?
By the time the dinghy bumped Serendipity’s hull, his unease had grown. The motorboat was headed right for them. He cut the outboard engine, and in the quiet that ensued, he could hear his brother’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s nice and calm out here at Cayo Coco…” Tobin was saying into the radio.
Shit! Seth nearly climbed right over Julie in his haste to shut his brother up. This was no time to be broadcasting their position on the sailors’ evening chat hour!
A powerful searchlight came on, catching Seth in midstep on the stern ladder.
“Hands up!” came a Spanish-accented voice through the night.
Julie blinked like a deer in headlights, and Seth froze, too.
“Hands up!” This time, the voice came with the metallic click-clack of a rifle being cocked.
His hands shot up. He could make out the outline of a thirty-foot boat and three heads. Or was it four? He had to do something — but what? Should he tell Tobin to hide? Shove Julie overboard and create a distraction while she swam away? But there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
“Holy shit, what ass is coming this close—” Tobin came up the companionway ladder, then froze when the light swung to him.
The motorboat closed the distance slowly, a hunter closing in on its prey. It hummed in a slow semicircle around Serendipity, then approached from astern and slid alongside. Seth winced as the hull scraped Serendipity’s.
“Hey, man, that paint job is new!” Tobin shouted, pushing at the motorboat’s rail.
Seth shoved Julie behind him as a man jumped over Serendipity’s lifelines and thumped onto the deck. With the spotlight backlighting him, it was impossible to make out his face but the gun in his hand was perfectly clear.
“Señorita Steffens, how nice to see you again,” the man all but purred in his flowery Spanish accent.
Seth shifted his weight to the right, making a wall in front of Julie.
“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual,” she shot back.
Seth reached a warning hand backward to find her waist and raised the other in front of him like a stop sign. “What do you want?” he demanded.
Another figure jumped aboard, making Serendipity lurch. The rubbing hulls make a nails-on-the-chalkboard screech that went right down his spine.
Intruder One flicked his gun toward the cabin. “Inside. All of you. Now.”
Julie hesitated, but Seth nudged her toward the steps, keeping himself between the men and her body. The cabin was tiny, with a single, narrow aisle in the middle. He crowded Julie as far back as possible and stretched to full height. They stood there, three ducks in a row — Julie, up forward, him next, and Tobin closest to the intruders in the aft section of the cabin.
Tobin shot him a look that said, Shit, what now?
The best he could offer was a look that replied, Stay cool.
The leader had a thick mustache and wore a brown shirt, brown pants, and high boots that gave him a shady, mercenary look. And for all Seth know, that’s what the man moonlighted as, even if the insignia of the Belize Defense Force graced his sleeve.
“Señorita Steffens, you have a package. I want it.”
Tobin swung around, shooting Julie a wide-eyed look that said Jesus, girl! Even I’m not stupid enough to transport other people’s shit!
Seth bristled at his brother. Julie wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t do anything illegal. Would she?
“And who are you?” Julie stuck her chin out, showing more indignation than fear. Seth couldn’t help but marvel at her one more time. His girl had balls.
His girl. He shifted to keep her covered as well as he could, given only his body as a shield.
“Capitán Hernandez of the Defense Force.”
“And you’re here in an official capacity?”
“Of course!” the man said, his voice going saccharine-sweet.
Yeah, right, Seth thought.
Julie pursed her lips. “All I have is a package from Professor Leeds for the Sisters of Mercy Convent in Matigúas,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Yes, Professor Leeds and I are old…friends.”
Seth figured the hesitation meant the two were old adversaries.
“I am happy to deliver the package for you,” Hernandez continued with a crocodile smile.
“I bet,” Julie shot back.
He made a tiny gesture with
the gun and scowled. “What exactly would you like to bet, señorita?”
The cabin fell silent; even Tobin held his tongue. The rubbing hulls sounded rougher from belowdeck, and every ripple on the water brought a low groan from Serendipity. Seth took a deep breath. This was his grandfather’s boat — the boat he’d been entrusted with. Couldn’t he do better than this?
He took a step toward the intruder but stopped immediately when the gun barrel swung toward his chest.
He put his hands up. He loved this boat, but it wasn’t worth his life. Wasn’t worth Julie’s safety.
“Give it to him,” he said, leveling the man with a gaze that made it clear the gun was the only thing keeping him from closing in.
He didn’t know what was in the package, but it wouldn’t be a rosary, not with these goons after it. He nodded at Julie, urging her to hand it over. The sooner they were rid of whatever it was, the better.
She let a second tick by before reaching for her backpack and pulling out a shoebox-shaped package. In seething silence, she passed it to Seth. It weighed as much as a couple of pounds of flour. Substantial, but not leaden. Seemed to him that drugs would weigh more. He passed it to Tobin to give to the man and nearly made a shooing motion with his hands.
“It’s yours,” he said. Whatever it is. “Go.” Get the hell off my boat.
The man lowered his gun — didn’t need it, not with his buddy leaning down from the cockpit with a rifle trained right between Tobin’s eyes — and weighed the package in his hand as a greedy smile stretched across his face.
“Gracias, señorita. Next time the good Professor Leeds asks you to transport something for him, you maybe think twice. Or—” he grinned broadly “—you bring it to me.”
“Like there’ll be a next time,” Julie replied, her face pinched tight.
“Adios,” Tobin chipped in.
The man only smiled more broadly. “Oh, we’re not finished yet.” He motioned with his gun. “On your knees.”
