“Children aren’t allowed,” she told him.
“We get to deal with a different kind of child.”
Most of the crew members were already gone. The few that were left were already starting to retreat. They had the dock to themselves, which made things a little easier. She wasn’t sure how she could approach the water. It was moving at the same speed as the ship, but the ship smoothed the surface back, so that jets rebounded and sprang out, creating a treacherous current that even Cade couldn’t save her from.
He took every precaution. Men hauled slabs of steel and thick beams out to the catwalk. They began to bolt them down and connect them to the ship, while beams for railing were secured to the bridge. It was meant to make her feel safe, but her phobia was an ingrained part of her. She couldn’t control it or trick it.
Cade whispered, when two men brought out a welder and face masks. “We should turn around until it’s safe.”
She closed her eyes and faced in the other direction. “You’re trying.”
“I’m making sure,” he said. “Remember?”
She did. “It wasn’t easy.”
“No, it wasn’t, but I’ve never failed to protect you, love you or provide for you, and I have always strived for your happiness.”
His point was scathing, because it was true. He never broke his vows, and they both knew he never would. She didn’t know what to say to him. He’d struck something inside her—a silent chord that they could both hear, and he was watching her in his peripheral vision, his sidelong gaze as hot and piercing as the welder’s. He wanted to see the truth sink in.
She couldn’t blame him, but it wasn’t easy to wait through that kind of pressure. Finally, the men signaled that they were ready, and she let him take her hand. She told herself that she just needed support, and she did, but it wasn’t because she was scared of the water; he was the only person that she truly believed she could rely on.
26
“I’m sorry,” Lori emerged from below deck and turned to close the wooden hatch behind her. The nausea was still there, but her stomach had settled some, and Cade was patient. He gave her an antihistamine and spoke with the captain to make sure that they didn’t get thrown around too much by the waves. By the time she reached the top, he was already finished and waiting with a bottle of water.
“You should hydrate. It’s easy to forget when you’re at sea. Are you feeling OK?”
She took a quick guzzle, relishing the cold sweetness. “I am.”
“Are you sure? We could go back if you want.”
“No, I like it,” she said, admiring the emptiness around them. “It’s refreshing, coming out here.”
“I’m glad you think so. I wasn’t sure at first.” He held the door to the cabin open for her.
She hesitated. “Then why take me?”
“It’s quiet,” he said, adding, “I think it might help with your anxiety a bit if you’re exposed to the water.”
“It’s having the opposite effect,” she said, even as she realized that the lightheaded feeling was gone. “I guess...I couldn’t even get close when the cruise started.”
“You seem a little better.”
“How would you know?” she asked.
“George said you looked anxious your first day, and some of the men noticed your fear. We were concerned at first. I wanted you to enjoy your time.”
“You’re having them check up on me?” she stopped before reaching the door.
“I asked him what you were like when you boarded. I’m not spying on you.”
She shook her head, smiling. “I would’ve done the same thing.”
“And I was excited.”
“You mean nervous?” she gave him a playful look.
“It has been a long time. I wasn’t sure what had happened—if you were OK, what you’d been through.”
“What were you going to do with Tim?”
“I would’ve watched,” he said, “and waited for the right moment.”
“And if I was happy?” she asked him.
“I wouldn’t have interfered,” he said, allowing her to step past him into the cabin, a miniature living room, as ornate as an Emperor’s palace. The flooring was a rich indigo, modeled after the sky, just before the darkness of night fell on the world. Gold leaf trim encroached on the expanse—impossible sunlight, peeking its way above the horizon, or maybe the night, pinning the rays down to keep them from entering.
There were armchairs and loungers centered around a table, where refreshments had been laid out for them. Lori wasn’t hungry, she was astounded, standing just inside. Cade closed the door behind her and took a chair for himself. “I didn’t do this, if you’re wondering.”
“But who did?”
“George,” he said.
She blinked her eyes and shook her head, her mind blank as she shuffled over to sit on the lounger across from him. “He’s not just a servant, is he?”
“No,” Cade laughed, “he’s the man that deals with the board.”
“Lovely,” she laid back, her arms folded behind her head. “Makes a lot of sense. They must do the food ordering.”
“Just the budget, and really,” he said, “if I didn’t have that buffet they’d make me walk the plank.”
“Still...”
“If I did things my way, nobody would want to buy tickets.” He paused, and she thought of his vision—palaces on the sea. He’d accomplished it, but he’d also slipped into the quiet state, where he lived for himself, just a captain, travelling with the current. He missed her voice—his beacon—so he drifted. “I gave up control,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “I manage daily stuff—the men, the ships, programs, all that. But I can’t move the money. And the board’s spreading it thin, buying more boats, cutting costs. The teachers get room and board; that’s it, and half the waitstaff is working at below minimum. They’re bringing them in from the Bahamas. You know how much they make?”
“I can imagine.”
“Now they want me to hire foreigners exclusively.”
Lori nodded. “Have you thought of selling your shares—letting them take over?”
“It’s a long process,” he said, “and it’s very costly. I don’t even know that I can get the full value. Really, all I want is the one ship.”
“Is it worth it, to just give up and move on to something else?”
“I don’t know,” he told her. “It’s crossed my mind. My dream is being diluted, and I’d rather get back to my roots.”
“But you built this company. You started with one ship, and you did exactly what you said you would do. You built your fleet.”
“I called it Capital Fishing at first,” he said. “Even then, I wanted to trade the fleet in for one good boat.”
“Capital fishing? Really? That was you? They said you took half the state’s coastline.”
“Then I handed those men the titles to their boats, and I told them to make something of themselves. They were a strong bunch. A lot of them did make it.”
“I ordered your fish up until the day that place closed. Half the time it was the only decent food I ate. The rest of the slop those diners served—ugh,” she shook her head, nose wrinkled.
He was looking at the floor. “Did you work at Sparky’s?”
“That hut downtown? Yeah, the delivery driver—Jay, I think—he’d always try to talk to me. I didn’t get it. He was as gay as they come.”
“He wanted to see if you were who he thought you were. He told me that he found you. He gave me a perfect description. We were out, and I rushed back to shore to go find you. But when I got there, they wouldn’t even tell me your name. You did that everywhere, didn’t you?”
“I’ve had to avoid a lot of men.”
“So much so that you used a PO box instead of a home address for fifteen years.” The hint of anger in his voice brought out something she didn’t expect: shame.
“I...” She stopped herself, unable to form the words she needed.
“You told all of your employers not to talk to me. You hid your address. You never owned a landline, just a cheap cell phone that couldn’t be tracked. You did everything you could. You knew just how to really disappear.”
“I don’t know how to respond,” she said. “If I say I’m sorry it would be like a knife to the gut. It’s just not enough. It doesn’t do anything to express the way I feel. It’s not going to change what happened, and it won’t heal your pain.” She sat up and scooted over to sit on the edge of the lounger, facing him. “I just never should have...” she stopped herself before she could say it.
“You never should have left.” He stood, and she felt herself shrinking back. He was hurt. He was also devoted, and that deserved recognition. Two steps forward, and her heart began pounding out a frantic beat. When he knelt down, she turned away, unable to look him in the eye.
That would seal her fate. She was selfish, reckless and vindictive—drowning in self-hatred. He was the love of her life, and she abandoned him. She didn’t even have a good reason for doing it. “After what I did, why do you still care?”
“I always cared, and after what happened, I knew you were in trouble. I couldn’t forget that.”
“I was post-partum.”
“Maybe you still are,” he said. “I am. And I’ve been worrying for a long time. You could’ve made another attempt. That possibility was there. I never thought it aloud if I could help it. I tried to tell myself that you were OK.”
“The uncertainty, I—I am sorry, Cade, so much so that I don’t think I could ever feel comfortable with myself. You’re good, and you didn’t deserve that.”
They drifted together, slowly at first, like two meteors caught in each others orbit. They were going to collide. He rushed up, his lips a welcoming assault, his tongue battering through.
She was falling back as he rose further, allowing his chest, a blazing furnace to press against her own. The pressure, a tender touch in a sore place, fire purging ancient wounds. The core of their passion, their connection and love—it came alive.
Her eyes opened, and his tongue became nothing short of rapture. It slid back out, and he reached his head around, letting his mouth rest just outside her ear. When his words flew in, they burned through, seemingly entering her mind where they cemented themselves and refused to leave. “You’re here. I’m OK now, and so are you.”
Her head fell back, and she lost herself in a wave of tears. He took her in, enfolding her in his arms, and they sat there together, while he rocked her stroked her, kissed her, blessing her with every bit of love and affection he had. He was the only one who could calm her down and make her feel like things really would be alright. She did the same for him. That’s why it was so hard when he went out on his boat. She didn’t feel whole unless he was with her. She’d been walking around, an incomplete person, and she didn’t know until now.
They both stood with a purpose, facing one another. He pushed her hair aside and examined her jawline. His teeth came tearing through, nibbling at the skin below her ear, and her arms shot back, so she could circle them around his waist before she fell. “Oh,” she sighed, and his laugh held depth. It traveled down her neck like a wave of sparks, each one a joyous flare, gaining moment until a tidal wave of electricity had spread across her chest, pulsing with his teeth, digging just deep enough to make her gasp.
He’d taken her breath, but it wasn’t enough. Her hands drifted down to his hips, where she used to love to hold on, and marvel at the way the muscles clenched. He reached down, used a hand under her knees and a hand under her to neck to pull her into his arm and cradle her.
She got a glimpse of his face, before he dipped down to peck her on the cheek, and a smile crossed her lips. It was like staring into the sun, barely long enough to realize that it was there, but it was—the fresh innocence that inspired her to devote her life to him.
It was pure—nothing more than animal curiosity—one soul meeting another, the need to touch them, make them laugh and smile—cry out, scream, lose control—or just learn, reach out and understand, if one person could fully understand another.
He was intent on making that happen. He crossed the room, still carrying her in his arms and brought her to the hatch, where he ducked down to open it, never once showing the strain of carrying her weight.
It wasn’t a burden. It was a joy, a blessing, but it was more than that. The serious look on his face, when he brought her through the small dining area into the quarters, reminded her of a man with a duty.
He was on mission, and he wasn’t going to fail. He didn’t know how. He was too persistent. He laid her down and stood above her at the foot of the bed, allowing her to watch as he pinched the tip of his cock through his jeans.
It was so sexy, the way he sucked in air through pursed lips and caught her eye. Had she not known what was coming, she would’ve grabbed the seam and ripped his pants down. But he was already starting to lean over her, like the moon blocking the sun during an eclipse.
The white fabric of his shirt was thin, barely enough to conceal the color of his skin behind it. They stuck to his shoulders—giant peaks, waning until they were the rounded hills of her biceps.
He slid both hands under her back, and she felt herself lost in familiar paths and hillcrests, as he pulled her up and their lips found one another’s without trying. The tip of his tongue rested between their lips, and she allowed her mouth to open, allowing it to enter.
He pulled his head up, took in a sharp breath, and dragged the head of his cock along the space between her legs. Denim grinded against the engorged, sensitive skin. It was a catalyst for an injection of hot, stinging sweetness—a drum pounding once inside her.
It set off her heart, her breath. She needed his lips as much as she needed air, so they traded off. He stole the air, exploring deeper, letting the soft tip of his tongue, dab at each individual ridge on her palette and finally the smooth surface of her own as he pulled away, breath flowing across her cheeks, warming her nose.
Something was resting on the space between her legs—two fingers, swept up as soon as she looked down to see what it was, and lightning rained in, forcing her to clench herself tight against it.
He was attacking her muscle control, one hand reaching up her shirt, sliding across her belly towards the cup of her bra, while his lips fell in a column down her neck. Each time they made contact, his fingers came closer, ready to push themselves up underneath her bra.
He kissed the space where her collar met her chest, and his bulging shaft, a rod of iron threatened to spear through the denim blocking its way. It managed to press the grating fabric so deep that when he pulled back, the force of it retreating drove her head into the matress.
It was enough to distract her from his forefinger, which was already puling at her cup. He lifted it, allowing his hand to slide through, and grabbed at the seam of her shirt with the other.
He pulled his hand out, and his palm scraped down the tip of her nipple. She clenched, struggling against the bolt of golden excitement, rushing down her chest, made unbearable by her stomach, exposed and tingling.
He lifted her up, supporting her between the shoulder blades and let his tongue rip through, parting only so he could pull her shirt off the rest of the way. Her bra fell when he threw it back and she realized that he’d unclasped it with the hand he was using to support it.
His hips were thrusting, his cock landing wherever it pleased. The energy would find its way home no matter what, and with his kisses passing down her chest, closer to their goal—she was starting to worry. He could only put her through so much.
With him unbuttoning her jeans, spreading his lips down, close to her nipple—he was pushing her further than she wanted to go. She wasn’t sure if she’d last, and if she did, she knew that something would happen.
He would bring her to that place, where she was an instrument of worship, singing when he wanted her to, wriggling around, slamming him up inside her, all while
trapped in the middle of a dynamite blast, surrounded on all sides by fire and him—the source of that heat.
There was a release of pressure, and something started to push its way out. She tensed, her thighs trembling. She couldn’t stop it from pushing its way through. It was fed by the storm inside, the bolts—two of them—electrical currents, powered by his fingertips grazing her nipple, a sharp pinch, and suddenly his mouth, taking the other.
His tongue moved in a wicked spiral, buds scraping at pores, and her voice came out in a shuddering sigh. The open air had surrounded her waistline, and he was pulling her pants lower, fingers hooked in the seam of her panties. Her let his teeth grip onto her nipple and press up against it as he stood.
When he did, his cock came plopping out, and she realized that he’d been touching himself without her knowing. He was hard, the tip so red it must’ve burned. It would burn, once she had him inside her. He kept two fingers curled and sliding over the skin, while he straightened each of her legs and pulling the jeans off of them.
He threw them at the foot of the bed, her panties too, and let his hand pass down the shaft one more time, and she could see that a shiver fell down his arms. It spread like static between them and grasped at her stomach, where she set his hand and leaned over her.
It was his look of wonder, mouth agape, and his head—he shook it just enough for her to realize that he couldn’t believe that this was happening. She was really there, the woman he dreamed of and searched for, who he couldn’t just give up. But there was so much need, so much wanting. He was incomplete, and it was because of what she did to him. He had to be made whole, so she said it. “I love you.”
No body could possibly accommodate the force that he brought down on her, and not just him—a hammer to a nail, placing his dick exactly where she needed it. But his love—his lips, so close—enough for her to feel only an electric tingle, nothing more; his eyes, locked together with her own, expressing a type of joy she wasn’t sure she could fully understand, not until he pulled his hips away, and he thrust himself inside her again, imbuing her with a thunderous rhapsody of biochemicals.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 39
