Terms of Surrender

by Leslie Kelly

Their stares met and held, both of them knowing what they were really talking about. “You’re sure?”

  “Uh-huh. So sure I don’t even mind too much if you think I’m easy.”

  He reached across the table, taking her hand, squeezing lightly. “I don’t. Because, for the record, I’m feeling exactly the same way and I know I’m not easy.”

  That pleased her. She hoped what was happening between them was as unique for him as it was for her.

  “Okay then. Let’s get outta here.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet.

  She immediately shook her head. “Not only am I not easy, I’m not a welcher. It’s on me, remember?”

  Ooh. Shouldn’t have thought about anything being on her. Because that made her think of all the other things she’d like on her. Well, one other thing. Him.

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  She liked that he didn’t make an issue of it. She would have been disappointed if he’d gotten all he-man instead of letting her do what she’d wanted to do—repay him for helping her with her car.

  It simply reinforced what she already suspected about Danny. He was extremely confident in his own masculinity, not the type to feel threatened by something like a woman making the first move or buying him a cheeseburger.

  Oh, how she liked him. And she suspected that, by the end of the night, she would like him a whole lot more.

  4

  Saturday, 5/7/10, 05:25 p.m.

  www.mad-mari.com/2011/05/07/quickone

  Comment #74

  Okay, one last comment for the day, then I’m turning this phone off and not checking in again. Just wanted you all to know that tomorrow’s Sunday Sinner post might be a little late.

  I also might have a whole lot of inspiration for writing it.

  At least, if I’m lucky.;-)

  See ya!

  BEING IN THE NAVY, USED to being moved around and living all over the world, Danny had never bought a house of his own. He either lived on base, or sometimes off base in an apartment. He’d invested in only two things of substance—both of which were mobile. One was, of course, his classic car, which he, with the help of his dad and brothers, had spent a full year restoring.

  The other was Jazzie Girl, his 27-foot cruiser, which he kept at one of the local marinas. Simple, yet graceful with her 40-foot mast, she was his escape clause when he wanted water instead of air. Flying was his first choice, always, but sometimes he just liked hoisting the sails and exploring the Chesapeake.

  He saw by the look on Mari’s face as they pulled into the marina that she liked the water. He had the feeling she would especially like it on a breezy afternoon like this one, when they’d skim over the bay like a stone skipped on a flat pond.

  “These are beautiful,” she said, staring from vessel to vessel, many of which were much larger—and far more grand—than his. The late afternoon sun sent gleams of gold over the beautifully curved structures which danced on the water. “I’m so excited, I’ve never been sailing.”

  Surprised, he asked, “Seriously? Where do you live?” It was something they hadn’t even gotten around to discussing. God did he hoped she didn’t say Kansas or Buffalo or anywhere far away.

  “Near the harbor in Baltimore,” she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug, obviously realizing this entire area was a boating mecca. “I’ve just never known anyone who had a boat. Remember, I was an army brat, not a navy one.”

  “Well, let’s find out if you have sea legs. There she is,” he said, pointing toward his slip.

  They walked closer and she murmured, “Jazzie Girl?”

  He groaned a little. “My sister harassed me into it. She said since I didn’t name my firstborn after her, she should at least get the boat.”

  Mari started, glancing at him with a raised brow. Knowing what she thought, he quickly raised a hand, palm out. “I meant my car. I definitely don’t have any rug rats out there.”

  Nodding, a slight smile on her beautiful, sweet-tasting lips, she said, “Not one of those sailors with a different family in every port, then?”

  “Definitely not.”

  Helping her on board, he got busy preparing for their trip.

  “Need help?” she asked as he began rigging the main sail.

  “Nah, it’s routine. Why don’t you go down to the galley and put the food in the cooler?” They’d stopped on the way over and picked up a bottle of wine, as well as some fruit and cheese.

  “Good idea. Then I can be on the lookout for hatchets or sharp knives while I’m alone down there.”

  He gawked.

  Chuckling, she said, “Haven’t you ever seen Dead Calm?”

  Vaguely remembering the thriller, about a psycho killing people on a boat, he replied, “Don’t worry, no hatchets, no knives—except plastic ones, which should be okay for the food.”

  She let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, then went down to the galley, walking carefully on her high heels. He’d thought about suggesting she take them off when they got onboard, but had held his tongue. He was still intrigued by the idea of her sexy feet and looked forward to pulling those shoes off the way he usually looked forward to unbuttoning a woman’s blouse.

  “You are losing it,” he told himself, wondering why he found every inch of her so alluring. Maybe it was that serendipity thing. Fate. Maybe it was just hormones. Could be just because she was beautiful and ballsy and smart.

  Or it could have been that kiss.

  Oh, that kiss. He still tasted her on his tongue, an hour later, and could only imagine how the rest of her would taste. He imagined it so much he almost forgot to open the seacock.

  “Ready?” she asked as she came up on deck, joining him at the stern a short time later.

  He nodded, gesturing to one of the built-in seats. “Better sit down until you get your sea legs. It’s pretty breezy—we might hit some chop.”

  She did as he suggested, perching on the edge of the chair, almost bouncing in excitement as they left the marina and headed south. As he’d expected, the waves were high, but she didn’t seem to mind. As if she’d done this a thousand times, she kept her body loose, letting herself roll with the sway of the craft, moving with it instead of against it. Like a born sailor.

  Having explored the area many times, Danny headed for an inlet that would offer them some calmer water. They could anchor and watch the sunset there without too much worry about drift. He wanted to be able to share the moment with her, to keep his hands and his mind free to enjoy their time together.

  Thinking about that, he suddenly realized something. She was the first woman, other than his sister, who’d ever set foot on his boat. His mom hated the water—at least, she had since Danny had told her he was enlisting in the navy. The other women he’d dated just hadn’t ended up here for one reason or another.

  “I love this,” Mari said, starting to rise from her seat.

  “Hold on,” he told her. Unable to resist, he bent down and reached for the back of one of her shoes. “You really shouldn’t be up on these.”

  Without a word, she leaned back in the chair, lifting one long leg toward him. He slid the shoe off, slowly, noting the high arch, the delicate bones, the pretty pink-tipped toes.

  “Okay,” he admitted, “they’re pretty spectacular feet.”

  “See? I told you.”

  He gently lowered her leg, lightly stroking her heel and ankle. Mari shivered, though whether that was from the breeze or the touch, he didn’t know. Then she lifted her other leg and he repeated the process, wondering how she’d react if he pressed his mouth to that high arch and then kissed his way upward. Of course, her pants would get in the way. It would help if she were still wearing that skirt…and what she’d had on under that skirt earlier. Oh, yeah, that would definitely help.

  Forcing himself to let go, he returned his focus to sailing. It wasn’t the kind of clear, smooth day where he could allow himself a brief distraction. Fortunately, they were close to the inlet, and as he eased Jazzi
e Girl into it, he noted theirs was the only craft in sight. That was one thing he liked about this site—nobody else seemed to have stumbled across it.

  “Pretty,” Mari said as she stood beside him, holding the rail and peering at the tree-studded shoreline nearby. Then she looked toward the western sky. “Oh, wow. What a sunset!”

  “Give me a minute and we’ll go out on the bow. It should be calm enough to sit out there.”

  She pointed toward the front of Jazzie Girl. “The bow—that’s the front, right?”

  “Right.”

  It took a few minutes, but once he’d lowered the anchor and confirmed the steadiness of the deck, he finally nodded and gave his full, undivided attention to his passenger. She hadn’t gone out to the bow. Instead she’d gone down into the galley and reappeared on deck a few minutes later with the bottle of wine—now open—and two glasses. “Thirsty?”

  “Half a glass,” he told her. “I don’t drink and sail.”

  She nodded, pouring two small glasses of ruby-red wine, then handing one to him. Danny took it, sipped once, watching her do the same. Mari sighed deeply, her lips drenched red, then turned again toward the sun sinking low in the western sky. The breeze kicked up, whipping her clothes audibly against her body, and she shivered.

  Danny stepped closer, for warmth. “You okay?”

  “Better than,” she told him, sounding fully in tune with the moment—the sensations of warmth and chill brushing her skin, the roll of the deck beneath her feet, the faint rasp of the leaves rustling on the nearest trees.

  Mari, he suddenly realized, was a woman who truly savored every sight, sound, taste and touch. He had absolutely no doubt she’d be an incredibly sensual lover, and he swallowed, hard, wanting her so badly he could taste it.

  The wind picked up a strand of her soft hair and blew it across his cheek. Danny inhaled the sweet, flowery smell of her shampoo blended with the warm, sultry scent of woman and had to grip the railing even tighter.

  She didn’t seem to notice, moving even closer beside him and covering his hand with hers, squeezing as the sun dropped a bit farther. “There it goes.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he acknoweldged through a nearly closed throat.

  “It’s as if the last drops of sunlight are falling like a slow rain shower,” she mused, her deep, even breaths telling him how much she was enjoying the salty air. “I’d like to stand here naked and let it drench me.”

  Shit. It was a wonder the railing didn’t snap…or that his fingers didn’t.

  Between one breath and the next, the enormous orb disappeared, pulling with it the long streams of gold that had been strewn across the water. They were left staring at a sky streaked with purple and gold, an endless watercolor painting.

  He glanced at Mari, and she turned at the same moment, her smile joyful, her eyes gleaming. “That was the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen,” she said, sounding delighted.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Gorgeous.”

  She must have seen something in his own stare, or heard it in his voice. It was something he’d been trying to hide, to control, because her own smile faded and her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. She dropped her gaze to his mouth, then licked her lips in an unintended invitation.

  That was all he’d been waiting for. Danny slid his hands into her hair and cupped her head, pulling her toward him so he could claim her mouth. She didn’t hesitate, melting into his body, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their mouths came together, hot, deep and crazy…nothing like the kiss in the restaurant earlier. It was as if everything they’d both been thinking, feeling, since the minute they’d met all those hours ago had finally fallen away and they were right back to the start, dealing with that electric, instant attraction.

  “God, I want you,” he muttered, then he went back to tasting every corner of her mouth.

  She writhed against him, her hips glued to his, her warm, full breasts tantalizing him through their clothes. Their tongues mated in a frenzy; he wanted to taste every bit of her. Memorize the cheeks and the teeth and never—ever—forget the way she tasted. Like wine and woman and sunshine and the sea.

  They didn’t say it, didn’t speak it. She merely reached for his shirt and tugged it free from his pants, then slipped her cool hands against his bare stomach. He hissed against her mouth, not because they were cold, but because her touch burned him right to his core.

  “Do you want to go inside?” he asked, not really wanting to but not wanting her to get too cold, either.

  “No,” she mumbled against his mouth. “It’s too small. Too closed-in.” She pulled away from him enough to tug at her own shirt. “I want you here. Now.”

  “Thank God,” he muttered. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed the condom he’d stuck there earlier—just in case.

  Spying it, she smiled. “I got some while I was shopping.”

  “Smart minds.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Then there were no more words to say. He brushed her shaking hands away from her shirt and pulled it free of her waistband, tugging it straight up and off her. Danny felt his pulse ratchet up at the sight of her, clad in a lacy bra that didn’t do much to conceal the jutting tips of her breasts. Unable to wait, he bent down and covered one with his mouth, tasting her through the fabric, letting her feel the warmth of his breath.

  Mari nearly went out of her head, loving the heat as he began to suck her nipple. It was indescribably good—her breasts were very sensitive, anyway, and the layer of lace added to the sensation. “Oh, yes,” she muttered, tightening her fingers in his golden-brown hair, liking the texture of it against her skin. Actually, there wasn’t anything about him she didn’t like against her skin.

  He moved to her other breast, and she hissed, both at how good it felt and at the coolness of the night air against her damp bra. As if he knew what made her shudder, he lifted a hand, sliding the shoulder strap down and catching her breast in his hand. He tweaked her nipple between his fingers, drawing it to an even tighter tip of utter sensation, even as he continued to suckle the other one.

  Mari groaned, helpless to do anything but love it as he undid her bra and dropped it to the deck, revealing her full, swaying breasts to the evening air and his covetous attention. He moved his mouth back and forth between them, as if he just couldn’t decide which he liked better, and every kiss, every stroke, sent her further out of her mind.

  “Please,” she said, filled with pleasure, but needing more.

  He straightened and kissed her mouth. “Can’t help it. You’re delicious.”

  “I’m also half-naked, and you’re still fully dressed.”

  She reached for his shirt again and helped him pull it off, over that broad chest and those impossibly wide shoulders. Though she wanted to touch, taste and explore, first she simply had to stare at him, shocked by how utterly mouthwatering he was. She’d had lovers before, but never—ever—had she seen one who made her want to drop to her knees and beg for the chance to touch him.

  Of course, if she dropped to her knees, she’d do more than touch him, she could guarantee that. She’d never been a big oral sex fan, but right now, she was dying to taste every bit of him, to experience every possible expression of sexual intimacy that existed.

  Stepping back, Danny reached for his belt and unfastened it, as if he didn’t trust himself to let her do it. Seeing the way her own hand shook as she reached up to stroke his arm, which bulged with muscle, she figured that was probably a good thing. She was feeling utterly ravenous, practically ready to dive on the man. If she touched, she’d take, right then and there, of that she had no doubt.

  She held her breath as he unzipped his pants, revealing his bulging boxer-briefs. They couldn’t even contain the tip of his erection; it jutted above the fabric.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered, sagging back against the back of her chair as she acknowledged how big he was. Her legs felt weak. Any fleeting concerns that she might not be able to accomodate him disappeared as her already
damp sex flooded with instant heat. Her muscles clenched reflexively, already anticipating taking him, inch by devastating inch.

  His wicked smile gleamed in the twilight, as if he knew exactly how he affected her. “If you don’t want me to rip your pretty new pants, you’d better take them off,” he told her, his tone silky, hot, sexy.

  “Aye-aye, captain,” she replied, though her retort was much more obedient than saucy. She was ready to do anything he asked, give him whatever he wanted, if only he filled her up, soon. She hadn’t even been aware she was so incredibly empty—hollow—until she saw him. Now she could think of nothing else.

  She undid the pants and pushed them down, taking her panties with them, and soon stood completely bare before him. His wolfish smile faded and his hand shook as he lifted it to rub his jaw. He raked a slow, devouring stare over her, as if trying to decide where to start. Top? Bottom? Somewhere in between?

  “Take me,” she ordered. “Just take me. Right now.”

  “No way, beautiful. Got way too much to do first.”

  She whimpered, thrilled beyond belief with the images of what he wanted to do with her—to her—but so desperate to have that massive ridge of male heat inside her she thought she might die.

  Wanting to at least feel him in her hand, to see if she could even close it around him, she stepped closer and reached for his elastic waistband. She tugged it down, letting the back of her fingers brush against the smooth, warm skin, silky soft yet covering utter steel, and drew in a satisfied breath when he quivered in reaction.

  “I’d say we both have a lot to do,” she whispered.

  Oh, such a lot. So damn much.

  She took as much as she could of him into her palm and stroked, hearing him hiss out a low, controlled breath. If she had her way, he wouldn’t maintain that control for long. “Wait…”

  “You’re the one who wanted to do lots of other things.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to do them to you.”

  “Fair’s fair,” she insisted as she slowly stroked him, letting his body’s moisture dampen her palm, making each stroke more slick and easy. She liked giving him pleasure, liked the tiny groans coming from his throat and the way the cords of muscle in his neck stood out as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, giving himself over to it.