by Jayne Rylon
Savannah reminded him to stay in the present. The party below decks was just getting started.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled up at him, glancing around the floor as if preparing to make a grab for her dress.
“Oh, hell no.” He stopped her with his curt command. “That’s not how I roll. Get your sexy ass over to that…whatever the fuck that thing is.”
Archer pointed at a contraption that seemed like the world’s craziest dentist chair. Black leather, straps everywhere, segmented and fully adjustable seat sections. Oh yeah, that would do.
If he wasn’t mistaken, she whimpered then shivered before practically dashing to the equipment.
“That’s better,” he growled as he stalked to her, arranging her to suit his intentions before buckling her in for one hell of a wild ride.
Archer crouched between her spread thighs, feasting on her for so long his mind blissed out and all his worries faded away. Including the ones about how disastrously this could end up in the morning.
No matter how bad it was, it couldn’t possibly be his worst morning after.
Trying to shove those thoughts away, he applied himself to maximizing Savannah’s pleasure as if it was some kind of penance. He’d stopped counting the number of climaxes he gave her as he steadily jerked himself back to full hardness. By the time she went limp, her thighs quivering against his shoulders, he was ready to fuck.
It was right about then that the door opened.
Archer rose, blocking as much of his partner from prying eyes as he could.
He shouldn’t have worried. It was only Miguel with a lady, or three, of his own. Kind of hard to count precisely since his entourage merged with Tosin’s, who followed right behind.
The space was big enough for them to keep out of each other’s way. Or not, if that’s how they rolled. He didn’t give a shit if they saw him plowing into Savannah’s pretty pussy, as he planned to do in a just a few more seconds. But how would she feel about it?
“I need to be fucked, Archer. Let them watch what you do to me.” She surprised him with her steady plea. “I don’t care about anything except having your cock in me. Now.”
He couldn’t agree more. Like diving, fucking was one of the few things that could turn off his obsession with the past. It was hard not to compare every partner to her, but he tried. It wasn’t fair. They would never measure up to perfection. Or at least what he’d thought was total compatibility.
Though he heard his two best friends cheering on the action as they got into some fun of their own, Archer’s attention didn’t drift from his temporary partner unless it was because of rogue thoughts. Of her. Always her.
Plucking a condom from a bowl on a table nearby, he tore open the package and sheathed himself. Without torturing either of them longer than he already had, he set the tip of his cock at the opening to Savannah’s pussy and bored inside.
The slick channel, prepped by his feasting, admitted him easily.
At least when coaxed by his unrelenting forward pressure.
He let his head drop back so he could savor the fisting of her flesh around his. Once he bottomed out, he began to retreat.
Archer took it slow until they’d both adjusted to the sensations, then began to drill into Savannah with a steady and fluid motion that shattered her around him a couple of times within the first few minutes. The squeeze and ripple of her muscles against his cock was enough to have him gritting his teeth while he rubbed light circles around her clit, keeping her aroused.
Still not as tight as she had been. Virginal, until he’d ruined her.
As he really dug in, he leaned forward. The graceful arch of Savannah’s neck tempted the animal within him. He wrapped his fingers around it lightly, careful not to come close to hurting her. It might make him a savage, but there was no denying he loved this feeling.
Being in control.
Granting them both pleasure by revealing his inner beast.
It might make him hate himself later. Confuse the hell out of him. But he’d worry about that some other time.
One of his friends’ companions edged nearer for a close-up view of the action. Archer fucked harder, faster, fulfilling each of Savannah’s moaned pleas, which encouraged him to intensify their experience.
And when she seemed to stall, on the very edge of one final epic release, the female bystander graciously helped him out. He hoped Miguel or Tosin would treat her especially well for her generosity.
Because when she leaned in and captured Savannah’s mouth in a gentle kiss he would have been utterly incapable of bestowing to anyone but her, she shuddered and clenched on his shaft, threatening to fracture his cock.
Archer roared then poured jet after jet of come into the condom he wore.
He half expected to see that he’d ripped a hole in it with the force of the blasts when he withdrew from Savannah’s still-twitching pussy. Thankfully, he hadn’t.
Dripping sweat and high on endorphins, he released her as quickly as possible, rubbing her wrists and ankles to return full circulation.
The entire time, she made out with their new arrival. It should have been every man’s fantasy come to life. Except now that he was utterly spent, fucked dry, Archer found himself wishing he hadn’t done it at all.
It had only reminded him that no one could replace her. Was he doomed to be unsatisfied with even fantastic sex for the rest of his life? It would serve him right, he supposed.
The only problem was he’d utterly exhausted this free-spirited woman, and he refused to walk away and leave her in such a vulnerable state. Even though he knew Miguel and Tosin would tend to her properly, it wasn’t their responsibility.
For tonight only, it was his.
And he’d sworn he would never let another woman down. Like he had her.
The guys had obviously been inspired by his show. They didn’t bother to say goodnight when he gathered Savannah to his chest and passed by them as the group of ladies spoiled his friends rotten. Good for them all, if that’s what made them happy.
Archer ignored his better judgment and took Savannah to his room, both of them completely naked. If he encouraged her to stay over, maybe he could pretend that what they’d shared meant more than simple physical relief.
It didn’t work.
He should have been sated. Instead, he felt hollow.
And she…well, she was knocked out by the time he’d made it down the hall.
All through the night, Archer kept Savannah close, watching over her. No matter what, he appreciated the raw passion she’d shared with him and did his best to meet her needs beyond sticking his dick in her.
As if he might float away or cease to exist if he let his eyes close, he blinked up at the night sky visible through the domed glass ceiling.
Despite everything around him, or maybe because of it, he felt insignificant. Incomplete.
His eyelids never drooped. Propped against pillows and the headboard, he ran his fingers through Savannah’s hair, happy to give her what she craved for the few hours they had left together. Wishing someone other than she could do that for him. Even while dreaming, she curled closer to his touch.
Maybe someday he’d find another person who could inspire that kind of reaction in him. He’d be the richest man in the universe if, when he did, the woman capable of taming him felt the same in return.
He would do anything to deserve her love. Because all the money in the world couldn’t keep him from drowning in loneliness, which made it impossible to sleep.
Hours later, early morning sunlight gilded Archer’s cabin, which was a grossly understated label for these quarters. He’d have to figure out where the controls for the automatic blinds were before he actually attempted to sleep in here. It was dazzling, and kind of blinding, to watch the sunrise from his new home. The entire ceiling of his suite was constructed of aqua-tinted glass. It was almost as if he had camped outside.
If camping meant sleeping on a cloud in climate-controlled air w
hile staring at the stars.
Though he knew they were on a boat, the size of the ship and the insignificance of the chop in Bonaire’s sheltered port had made it as steady as a rock. He couldn’t possibly have been more comfortable.
Unless he’d shared his bed with someone he cared for.
Idiot. From now on, he would stick to his plan.
Savannah began to rouse beside him, stretching and yawning into her fist. She was beautiful mussed, but he immediately began to think of ways to avoid a round of morning sex he simply wasn’t into. It wouldn’t be fair to mislead her.
Banks to the rescue again.
A non-intrusive tone chimed from beside the bed. It was subtle enough that Archer didn’t register it as an incoming phone call until the third ring. He reached over to the side table to answer. “Yes?”
“Morning, Archie. Our final crew member is onboard. When you and the other divemasters are recovered from last night, I’d like to hold a staff meeting. We should get introductions out of the way and talk about some ground rules before the first set of guests begin arriving this afternoon. Does that work for you?”
“Of course, I’ll be right out.” Truthfully, he couldn’t be more glad that Banks had spared him an awkward goodbye. “I’ll stop and get the guys on my way. Otherwise, they’ll never make it.”
“Probably wise. They seemed to be enjoying themselves last night.” Banks pitched his voice lower. “I left Ms. Ridley’s garments outside your door and there’s a breakfast buffet waiting. You’re welcome.”
Then he hung up.
Archer rolled out of bed and collected their belongings. He left them on the bed while he used the restroom and yanked on some clothes. When he returned, Savannah shimmied into her discarded dress. She hadn’t made any demands, for which he was grateful. Still, he felt familiar disappointment tainting the pleasure they’d brought each other the night before.
If he’d felt something for her—even a faint echo of the something he’d felt for his long-ago girl—he could have justified bringing Savannah along on their journey. Unfortunately, their sexual chemistry seemed to be the extent of their connection. Just like it had been with all the women he’d enjoyed.
Except one.
The one he couldn’t have.
The one he’d caused irreparable harm.
Archer opened the door and Savannah stepped into the hallway. She smiled up at him.
“I hope you’ll stop by for lunch again someday…when you’re good and hungry.” The way she practically purred the last part made it clear what kind of appetite she hoped to slake.
He might have made an empty promise then, if he hadn’t seen a ghost out of the corner of his eye. Had he summoned it by thinking about her?
What the—?
A uniformed crew member darted past, head down, as if embarrassed to have interrupted his obvious morning-after farewell. It must have been a trick of the light, or maybe his guilty conscience for breaking his promise to keep his dick in his pants until he’d made a meaningful match with someone, because he could have sworn it was her.
Or someone who looked like she might now—grown, gorgeous, strong.
He was going to have to find out who that actually was so he could stay far, far away.
Fortunately, he was about to enter a staff meeting and learn her name. Some part of him couldn’t deny the morning’s job requirements had just gotten a lot less onerous.
“Let me walk you out,” he said to Savannah.
She smiled wistfully, then shook her head. “No need. Thanks for an unforgettable evening. I’m glad we got a chance to do that before you left. It was everything I hoped it would be.”
Archer kissed her cheek. He wished he could feel more for her than he did.
Without looking back, Savannah swayed down the hall, off the boat, and out of his life.
He couldn’t do this again. He swore he was going to hold out for someone who meant something to him. Someone he couldn’t live without. Otherwise, disappointment might crush him.
It hurt too much to think he was the kind of man who found it this easy to turn away affection.
What kind of coldhearted bastard did that make him?
One just like his father.
Fuck.
Seven
Lieutenant Commander Waverly Adams squared her shoulders, assuming her military-grade posture. She strode down the hall from her assigned bunk, where she’d dropped off her midnight blue camo duffle. It was hard to believe that as part of the crew she had a room, however cramped, to herself. Hell, it even had a porthole to let in natural light and give her a glimpse of paradise outside the ship.
After a dozen years of living in barracks, she would so take that.
If she stayed.
Waverly headed toward the stairs that led to the upper deck, where their staff meeting would be held. Her heart pounded in her chest. It felt odd to have her hair down, brushing her butt. Even braided, it seemed wild compared to twisting, wrapping, and pinning her mane into a bun that conformed to the Navy’s strict grooming standards.
Something had urged her to shed a couple of those uptight habits. Maybe so her old acquaintance would have some hint of the kid she’d been to jog his memory.
Would Archer Quartermane—her first and everlasting crush—even remember her?
She thought so, but feared that he might not.
What if, like so many other people who’d faded from her life, he’d meant much more to her than she had to him? Sure, they’d gone to different schools. Hers a private, all-girls preparatory academy. His even more exclusive. But he’d hung out with her sporadically for years at pretty much every event they’d found each other at, when both of their fathers had been required to attend.
It had gotten to the point where the first thing she’d do when she could break away from shaking hands and looking pretty by her father’s side was beg the doorman to check the guest list for Archer’s father. Even the most boring events had been tolerable when he had been there to help her pass the time.
As they got older, their haphazard run-ins had turned into flirt fests.
One evening in particular had occupied a disproportionate amount of her teenaged daydreams. They’d been out exploring a hedge maze on the grounds of some socialite’s mansion, laughing and chasing each other around the fountain at the center, when she’d tripped on her gown and crashed into him.
To keep her from bashing her brains out on a cherub statue, which pissed into the basin—how the fuck was that supposed to be classy anyway?—he’d caught her against his chest. It had started making the transition from scrawny to the broad torso of a grown man. His sheer size, the flex of his muscles, and his general…hardness…had amazed her. He must have liked what he’d felt, too. Because, as he steadied her on her feet, he leaned in.
Waverly had held her breath, afraid to hope that she might share her first kiss ever with Archer.
He’d made her unspoken wish come true.
The rest of that summer they’d skipped the chasing and gone straight to making out whenever they could find a shadowy corner, an abandoned boathouse, or an intricate garden.
Even now, the memory of his lips on hers and the remembered comfort his protective arms around her had the power to make her swoon. The warrior in her hated to admit it since the woman she’d grown into was nothing like the naïve, entitled brat she’d been before he’d taken off without warning—right around the time her fairy tale upbringing had officially gone to shit.
Waverly figured she’d had to crash and burn to truly appreciate life.
After all, starting over from scratch had allowed her to rebuild herself from the ground up, into the fierce, independent, competent person she was proud to be today. According to Banks, that would be another thing she had in common with her new boss. Something sure to earn his respect.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this vulnerable or sought someone’s approval.
This was either the best or w
orst idea she’d ever had.
They were about to find out which it was.
Lost in thought, she jogged up the staff staircase that dumped out into the main hallway two floors above. She hadn’t gone more than ten paces when the door immediately in front of her opened. Out stepped Archer along with a lovely—if rumpled—woman who’d clearly spent the night in his bed.
Whoa.
Waverly hadn’t prepared herself for the pang of jealousy that threatened to unsheathe her formidable claws. Worse, attraction flared inside her as she caught a whiff of Archer’s clean, masculine scent along with a peek at his melted-chocolate eyes.
Gorgeous and untouchable as ever.
She ducked her head and practically dashed along the immaculate hardwood past the couple. Her bare feet slapped some as she hustled in the direction of the lounge where Banks had instructed her to join their upcoming gathering.
When she turned the corner, she paused to regain her balance, safely out of sight.
It wasn’t the ship tilting. It was her.
As if it wasn’t weird enough being here—in circumstances so different than all those years before yet no less awkward—coming face-to-face with Archer and his latest lover didn’t do much for her attempts to loosen up. Especially when a fraction of a second in his presence made it clear he was out of her league in every way that mattered.
Rich. Yup.
Suave. Yup.
Handsome. Yup.
A lover, not a fighter. Yup.
Capable of enjoying a casual hookup. Yup.
Archer had exactly zero things in common with the safe, boring men she accepted dinner invitations from on occasion.
Waverly drew in a deep breath, concentrating on settling down. She’d need to rely on her training to get her job here done despite being in constant close quarters with the only man who’d ever made her systems go haywire. And apparently still did.
It had been years since she’d wrestled with her confidence like this. That could be why she had come. It required proving to herself that she could handle things now that had been insurmountable obstacles before. A new challenge.
