Marooned with a Millionaire

by Kristi Gold

  She tapped her fingers on his shoulder. “I’m ready and willing, Jack. Give it your best shot.”

  He sat up, shifted to the end of the bed and settled one mile-long leg across his thighs. He raised her foot and studied her toes. Her feet were about as pretty as the rest of her.

  She shoved both pillows behind her neck and stared at him. “Are you going to give me a pedicure?”

  “No.”

  “Swab the deck? I see you’ve already lifted the sail.” She sent a pointed look at J.J.

  Jack couldn’t believe he was starting to grow accustomed to one primary body part having a name. Leave it to Lizzie. “I plan to give you the time of your life.”

  She wiggled her toes. “I’m intrigued.”

  This time he grinned. “You’re going to be more than that, I assure you.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  When he planted a kiss on her instep, she giggled. Jack smiled from the simple joy of it. “Are you ticklish there, Dorothy?”

  “Just a little bit, Ahab.”

  He kissed her calf. She giggled again then tried to look serious. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m more sensitive than I thought.”

  Jack smiled to himself when he thought about kissing one sensitive area on her person.

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Continue.”

  He kissed her knee lightly. She shoved one pillow over her face but it did nothing to stifle the sound of her uncontrollable giggles.

  “Lizzie, you’re giving me a complex.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” she said, her words muffled by the pillow.

  When he whisked his lips above her knee, her chortles turned into full-fledged laughs. Normally that might halt Jack’s plan but it only served to make him more determined. He parted her legs and stretched out between them, then kissed his way up the inside of her thigh.

  She dropped the pillow from her face.

  She wasn’t laughing.

  “Oh, so you’re not ticklish here?” he asked, brushing his knuckles back and forth over the path his lips had taken.

  “Uh, no.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Jack felt somewhat pleased that he’d found a way to shut her up, at least to make her stop laughing. But he didn’t want her totally quiet once he really got down to business.

  On that thought, he slid his tongue up the inside of her thigh but he didn’t linger for long. He continued to the slick folds to find the spot that would elicit a moan. Lizzie clutched his head in a death grip while he suckled her until she squirmed beneath his mouth. He slipped a finger inside her, then two, imagining in vivid detail what it would feel like to experience all that heat surrounding him.

  He looked up to find her eyes wide with surprise, hazy with desire. Her breasts rose and fell with each labored breath as he continued to manipulate her with his mouth, showing her no mercy. He felt her tense around his fingers, heard her softly moan, but that didn’t stop him until every last spasm of her climax subsided.

  Jack moved over her, his body raging with the need to take her now. Instead, he smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly. “Are you ready now?”

  She closed her eyes. “I think I am.”

  Jack was concerned over her tentative tone. He skimmed his palms down her arms to discover her hands balled into tight fists. “Relax, Lizzie.”

  She rolled her neck on her shoulders and shook out her hands like a runner preparing for a relay. “Okay.”

  This wasn’t going to work, not with her wound tight enough to break. On one level Jack could relate. He was wound pretty damn tight himself.

  Moving back to her side, Jack breezed his fingertips over one breast, then the other before sliding his hand between her thighs where his mouth had been only a few moments before.

  Her eyes snapped open. “Jack, you really don’t have to—”

  “I want to,” he said as he stroked her lightly, tenderly, insistently. When he detected she was on the brink of another release, he took his hand away, parted her legs with his thigh and moved atop her. He eased inside her a fraction and saw a hint of apprehension in her expression.

  Jack’s body demanded a hard thrust but his head told him to take it slowly. He swept his lips over her flushed cheek. “Are you okay?”

  Lizzie nodded and traced her fingertip along his clenched jaw. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You look stressed.”

  It wasn’t stress that had him gritting his teeth. It was sheer sensation, the overwhelming need to be completely inside her.

  “I’ve never done this before,” spilled out of his mouth before he realized how inane that sounded.

  Lizzie looked totally taken aback. “You’re a virgin?”

  This time he laughed but it held no mirth. “I’ve never done this before without some kind of protection.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. I want you to know that I’m safe. I don’t have any—”

  She silenced him by pressing a fingertip to his lips. “I trust you.”

  He withdrew slightly then slid back inside her a little more. “You’re way too trusting, Lizzie.”

  Tension showed in her features. “I know that you wouldn’t put me in any danger that way. I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me.” She winced when he pushed deeper.

  Jack froze. “I’m hurting you.”

  “No pain, no gain, as they say.”

  “Hell, Lizzie, I don’t want to hurt you at all.” He slid his hand between them and fondled her above where they were joined. “I want to make you feel good.” As good as he felt. As frantic as he felt.

  She opened again to his touch, responded as sweetly as she had before. Lizzie began lifting her hips, urging him deeper and deeper still when another orgasm claimed her. He sank fully inside her and almost lost it, too. He slid his hands beneath her bottom and pulled her closer while he stilled to savor the way she felt surrounding him, snug and hot and smooth as top-grade scotch. Paused in an effort to make it last.

  “Jack,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  He nuzzled his face in her neck. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that you’re so tight.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s a good thing. Too damn good.”

  She lifted his face into her palms. “Nothing can be too good.”

  Oh yeah, it could, Jack thought as he surrendered to his body’s command, recognized the fact that he hadn’t felt this great in a long time, if ever. Lizzie’s gaze never strayed from his as he moved inside her with as much temperance as he could muster. It wasn’t long until she caught on and moved with him, her eyes full of wide-eyed wonder but thankfully no hint of pain, only pleasure.

  Too soon, Jack acknowledged when he could no longer hold his own climax at bay. Too, too soon.

  The climax wracked his body and he shook with the explosion. As he tried to recover, Lizzie held him securely against her breasts and caressed his back with long, silken strokes.

  “I never knew,” she said in a reverent tone, bringing Jack back around to the here and now.

  He kissed her as if he could never get enough of her. He marveled at the way she made love, relished her laughter, appreciated her zest for living.

  In that moment Jack realized that the old saying about the road being paved with good intentions was patently true. He never intended to fall hard for any woman, much less Lizzie Matheson—a woman who had the capacity to creep past his reserve.

  He couldn’t forget that once this ordeal was over, he would still be the same old Jack with the same old shame, the same old failures. He would still have to deal with the life he had chosen and that didn’t include making Lizzie a permanent part of it. He also knew that even after she left him alone, she would leave an indelible mark on his soul.

  After drifting back to blissful sleep in Jack’s arms, Lizzie awakened to find he’d disappeared again. She stretched
her arms above her head and immediately realized it was much later than she’d first believed, evident by the sun’s rays streaming into the deserted room.

  She slipped from the bed and came to her feet on wooden legs that didn’t seem to want to hold her weight. Otherwise, she felt remarkably well considering her recent activities. No real discomfort, now or before when Jack had made love to her. Oh, there had been some pain, but Jack’s care, his gentleness, his fantastic skill had eased that quickly. She smiled over her good fortune in finding the consummate man to be her first lover. An incredible lover. A man she could so easily love. A man she already did love in many ways.

  Lizzie took a few steps forward, thankful that the boat’s movement had calmed considering that her memories of this morning made her feel anything but steady. She also felt sticky, both from the remnants of lovemaking and the salty rain that had adhered to her skin like plastic wrap. She wanted a bath, and she wanted food.

  After retrieving one of Jack’s T-shirts from the built-in bureau drawer, she put it on and headed to the kitchen, hoping to find Jack there. When she didn’t, she assumed he was probably on deck checking things out. She would prefer that he check her out again.

  Little did Jack know, he had created a super-charged, sexual need-machine. Even now, even though she was hungry enough to eat a live lobster, she would gladly forgo food for another bout of fun between the sheets.

  But she had to remember her Hank. Hank needed food. Later she would deal with some kind of bath. Later she would deal with the melancholy emotions—the feelings for Jack crowding her heart, knowing Jack would probably never feel the same about her.

  Lizzie opened one cabinet and took out a piece of bread—stale but luckily void of mold—and ate it with a small can of peaches and a bottle of water. Not a lot in the way of sustenance, but it would have to do until they made it back to shore. And when that happened, she would seek out a juicy hamburger—made from turkey, of course. She would have a real bath. She would have Jack one last time before they parted ways. If she couldn’t have more, she would take what she could get.

  Once she was finished eating, Lizzie took care of her morning routine then left the bathroom to find her stalwart sailor who had a knack for disappearing like a master magician.

  When she arrived on deck, a little nip of self-consciousness bit into Lizzie as she shaded her eyes with her hand to search for Jack. What did one say the morning after? Actually, the afternoon after from the looks of the sun midpoint on the horizon. Nice day, Jack. Any sign of a rescue crew, Jack? Any chance I might convince you to go down below for some more slap and tickle?

  Before she could come up with a more appropriate greeting, Lizzie pulled up short at the stern to find Jack on his knees at the swim platform, his bronzed skin shining in the sun. All of his skin. He was positioned at an angle profile to her, allowing Lizzie only a partial view of the details—half of his bare chest, one hair-covered thigh that hid attributes she now knew intimately. He had a bar of soap in one hand and a rag in the other and Lizzie had a case of the chills that paid no mind to the scorching heat.

  She recognized that the boat was moving somewhat, a very good thing. She also recognized that she should turn away and give Jack some space, not just stand there like Lizzie the Vacationing Voyeur. But she felt as if her feet were stuck to the deck in wet cement. Her lips parted while she watched the play of his muscles and the drops of moisture as he ran the soapy rag over the back of his neck, down his sculpted chest, down his ridged abdomen to his… What she wouldn’t give to be that rag.

  He lowered his head, using the sea spray as a makeshift shower to wash his hair and to rinse. He straightened and slicked a hand over his scalp then turned his face toward the sun. After draping the rag on the side of a nearby bucket and tossing the soap in the container, he stood, giving Lizzie a firsthand peek at his first-rate bod. What a view.

  But he didn’t allow her enough time to enjoy the sight before he tugged on a pair of khaki shorts. He turned and hesitated when their gazes met, a knowing look gleaming in his silver eyes.

  She’d definitely been caught, and she honestly didn’t care. In fact, she was glad.

  Lizzie raised her hand in a flat-palm wave, trying to appear nonchalant when she really wanted to tackle him. “Hi.”

  He favored her with a devastating half smile, his hand poised on his fly. “So you’re finally awake.”

  She walked toward him, her hands clasped behind her back so she wouldn’t grab him without formality. “Yeah.”

  He slid his zipper up, slowly. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I feel great.” Wired. Sexually keyed up. “I had some breakfast. I could definitely use a bath.” She could definitely use a kiss, and more.

  He pointed to the bucket. “There’s some bottled water in there for you to use along with a sponge.”

  “What? No loofah?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. A sponge is great.”

  “I brought the water out here to warm it. It’s not much but it should be enough for you. You can take it back inside and bathe in there.”

  She nodded toward the platform. “I could do what you were doing.”

  “Believe me, Lizzie, salt water isn’t that great.”

  She shrugged. “Okay.” Lizzie reached for the hem of the tee to tug it off.

  “Inside, Lizzie,” Jack said in a warning tone. “You’ll have more privacy.”

  Obviously he was much more courteous than she had been. But frankly, she didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want Jack to leave, either. She wanted him to watch. She wanted him to be as affected as she’d been when she’d watched him.

  Ignoring his suggestion, she pulled the shirt over her head, leaving her totally naked, and dropped it on the deck. “I’ve never bathed under the open skies before. It’s kind of nice.”

  Jack didn’t move, didn’t speak as she soaped the sponge and slid it down her body then back up to linger at her breasts. His gaze followed the rivulets of foamy moisture rolling down her belly and below.

  He glanced up and she noted the unmistakable heat in his eyes. On a whim, she offered him the sponge. “Would you like to do it?”

  He looked away. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  She sauntered forward until she was standing before him, toe to toe. “I think it’s a marvelous idea. I’m sure you’ll do a very thorough job.”

  “I would think you might have other things on your mind.”

  “What other things?”

  “Like when we’re going to get out of here.”

  She lifted his hand and curled his fingers around the sponge. “No use worrying over what we can’t control, right?”

  He forked his free hand through his hair. “My control will be in jeopardy if I help you out with your bath.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  “Lizzie, you’re making me crazy.”

  She kissed his chin. “Jack, you’re making me hot.”

  He reluctantly smiled. “No surprise. It’s got to be over eighty degrees out here.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She took his hand and guided the sponge to her breasts. “This is what I mean.”

  After lingering there for a time, he washed her belly then knelt and washed the inside of her thighs, her legs, each foot, before working his way back up, avoiding the place that begged for his attention. “How’s that?”

  “Not quite as thorough as I’d hoped.”

  “I really have something I need to do.”

  “I bet you do.” She glanced at his fly. “Well, my, my. I believe J.J. is now present and accounted for.”

  “What do you expect when he has a beautiful, naked woman standing in front of him.”

  Lizzie was totally buoyed by the comment. “Beautiful, huh? Isn’t that a stretch?”

  He brushed her hair away from her face, looking seriously seductive. “You are beautiful.” He tossed the sponge into the bucket and pu
lled her against him. “Incredibly beautiful.” He outlined her lips with a fingertip. “Beautiful mouth.” He lowered his hand to her breast and feathered her nipple with his thumb. “Beautiful here.” He cupped the juncture of her thighs. “Definitely beautiful here.”

  Slanting his head, he kissed her deeply, touched her ardently until Lizzie feared her shaky limbs would give way. As if he sensed her predicament, he broke the kiss and took her hand, pulling her behind him toward the steps.

  Lizzie planted her feet and yanked him around to kiss him again. She leaned back against the bulkhead and he followed, melding his mouth with hers, their tongues tangled in a dance of desperate desire.

  She tried to work his fly, her fingers fumbling with the urgency to have him right then, right now. He pushed her hand away and she half expected him to do the same to her. Instead, he lowered his zipper and with one palm parted her legs, bent his knees and thrust upward, seating himself deep inside her. He kept his arm behind her back as a buffer against the wall. Held her captive with the strength of his body and a spellbinding kiss that didn’t last long enough.

  “Lizzie,” he whispered. “This isn’t right.”

  “This is very right,” she said as she slid her hands beneath the back of his shorts to relish the play of his muscled buttocks against her palms as he moved in a steady cadence.

  “I don’t want to—”

  “Hurt me, I know. You’re not. You won’t.”

  At least not physically, Lizzie’s final coherent thought as the delicious friction of Jack’s body rubbing against hers sent her falling, falling toward a sensual abyss where every nerve ending in her body absorbed the sensations. Jack groaned with the next thrust then went rigid in her arms as his own climax took over.

  When his ragged respiration began to settle, he murmured, “This is insane,” as he braced his palms on either side of her head, taking his weight from her, but not his body.

  “This is heaven,” Lizzie said.

  They stayed that way for a time, a slight breeze filtering over them as several gulls squawked overhead.

  “Show’s over,” Lizzie called to the noisy birds.

  Jack’s laughter rumbled low in his chest as he rolled away from her and leaned back against the wall at her side. “Guess there’s something to be said for being marooned.”