by Jayne Rylon
“I bet you wouldn’t complain if I found a French maid outfit in here, though.”
Archer thought of her in seamed stockings. He’d bend her over, flip up her skirt, and… “Banks didn’t really put one in there, did he?”
“No!” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “But I bet one of the housekeeping staff has a feather duster I could borrow when we get back.”
If they had enough energy for roleplaying tonight, it would probably mean his plan had been an epic failure. “We’ll see.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she asked him as she ducked into a short, silky dress that looked like an oversized handkerchief. It left her sexy legs—and a good amount of her cleavage—exposed. Fine by him.
Hell, he’d have no problem with her walking around naked all the time.
Maybe he’d have to talk to Banks about filling one of their tours with nudists.
“Ready?” he asked, eager to be on their way.
She plucked her sunglasses and a big floppy hat from a table near the door, then said, “Yep. Where am I taking you anyway?”
“There’s a small group of people subsistence living not too far from here. One of the other arms of the Banks Foundation will be supporting indigenous people who would rather continue their traditions than modernize. Since we’re in the area anyway, we’re going to take some supplies and medical aid over to them.”
“Sounds good to me. Not that different than what I used to do in the Navy sometimes.” Waverly shot him a stare so full of warmth he felt it heat his entire body. This time it wasn’t the lusty sort either. Or not only that. It was something more profound.
“What?” he asked as he opened the door and ushered her out.
“Think of how many people in the world are going to be impacted positively because of you.” She linked her arm with his as they wound their way through the yacht on their path to the helipad.
He shrugged, kind of uncomfortable with that assessment. “It’s not because of me. It’s because of my father’s money. Considering how many people probably suffered or were fucked over so he could amass that pile of cash, it seems only right.”
“Even so, we both know that just because something should happen doesn’t mean it will happen.” She turned him toward her, then pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss. “You’re really doing it, Archer. Making this happen.”
“All I did was sign a bunch of papers. Banks is the hero, not me.”
She whispered up at him then, thinking about how he’d saved her more than a decade ago even if she hadn’t known it then. “You’ll always be my hero.”
“I’ll do my best for you, Waverly.”
With a pat on his cheek, she turned and they continued walking in no hurry, pausing in several of the common areas to talk to passengers who’d gone diving with him over the past few weeks and waved hello to others they were also coming to know from shared meals or simply living on the Divemaster together for a while.
As a freelance divemaster, Archer’s clients usually hadn’t stuck around more than a week or two at most. Though some came back year after year to the same resorts, he, Tosin, and Miguel hadn’t been there the next time they returned.
This was different. He was learning about each of the people temporarily living onboard and coming to care, especially when they shared some of the heartbreaking details of their loved ones’ health crises.
It made them more real to him. More than tourists passing through.
He was starting to feel like his nomad days were over. Sure, the Divemaster moved for him. But he could no longer imagine himself leaving her behind for another place he couldn’t grow some roots.
It would be kind of sad when the passengers who’d taken this maiden voyage with them switched out with the next group of guests. Then again, it was wonderful to see how much they’d relaxed in the time they’d been onboard. How many more smiles were exchanged than when they’d first arrived.
Some of the passengers had taken it upon themselves, with help from Banks, to organize their own support group meetings in the evenings and had plans to start up a virtual edition on social media so they could keep in touch after they went home. One good deed expanded and grew, picking up momentum as it went.
Archer thought they might actually be making a difference, however small, in these people’s lives, and he couldn’t wait to see who Banks would bring in next and what they could do to help them.
Caught in an introspective mood, he soon found himself relaxing in the passenger seat of the helicopter as Waverly did her thing. He didn’t feel the need to scrutinize her or ask if she felt everything was okay. He was like the blissfully ignorant subset of clients who’d relied on him to lead their dives.
He trusted her, absolutely, with his life.
So he didn’t bug her before or during takeoff, limiting his glances in her direction to the ones he needed to keep his stiffening dick happy.
“I wonder if I’m going to have a hard-on every time I fly with you. So far we’re two for two.” He might have caught her off guard with that statement, but though she risked a glimpse at the tent in his shorts, she didn’t so much as bobble the stick. “It’s sexy, watching you like this. Confident, competent, totally badass. Miguel was right about that.”
“Thanks, Archer.” She flashed him one of her dazzling smiles as they began to accelerate toward their target. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He was saved from responding when a charcoal wedge appeared on the horizon. It grew bigger as they flew in that direction.
“Is that someone from the Divemaster?” She pointed at what turned out to be a Zodiac—an inflatable motorboat—which bounced along the waves, hauling ass in the opposite direction from where they were headed.
Considering they were out in the middle of nowhere, relatively, he figured it wouldn’t make any sense to deny it. He grunted, thinking they’d cut things close. “Yeah. I think it’s Tosin and Miguel. They said something about going fishing earlier.”
“I wonder why they didn’t cast off the yacht.” She shrugged.
Because they hadn’t really been fishing. Archer crossed his fingers and hoped she wouldn’t be pissed at him when she realized that he’d fibbed.
“Mind if I have a little fun now that you’re pretty sure I’m not going to kill us?” she asked. “We have plenty of extra fuel for this run.”
“Does that mean you’re going to show me what this thing can really do?” Archer teased. “I wasn’t going to point out that you drive like a grandma…”
That might have been the wrong thing to say.
Waverly screeched, then muttered, “I’ll show you a granny.”
She did a pretty good job of making sure he’d never malign her again with a daring swoop that brought them low over the waves as they circled back. Soon they buzzed Tosin and Miguel.
It got even better when Miguel stumbled at their unexpected nearness, and fell overboard with a splash. They zipped around like a gnat, crisscrossing the air over the guys until they were sure Miguel had climbed in safe and sound—if soaked—once more.
Only when he offered them a double-fingered salute did they fly off again, laughing.
Waverly hadn’t finished with her freestyling, though.
She swerved her way from island to island on the general course to their destination. Lush foliage and even a waterfall they spotted along the way made for an amazing tour of the area.
If Archer didn’t have a stomach of steel and immunity to motion sickness after years of working on a boat, he might have ruined their afternoon. Instead, he whooped and cheered as she took him for the ride of his life.
Even if he did clutch the seat in a death grip a time or two.
The highlight of the trip came when they passed over a marshy inlet on one of the bigger landmasses. An entire flock of flamingos launched themselves into the air, not high enough to be a concern. Looking down on a sight he’d seen numerous times
from the ground in Bonaire gave him a new viewpoint.
Just like Waverly kept doing to him in other aspects of his life.
For one, he hadn’t felt so aggressive with her, didn’t always need to be in control like he had with other partners. Though, there went his cock again…the thought held some appeal. Maybe someday, after their unfortunate start was further in the shadows of the past, he could ask her to explore the clubroom with him.
For now, playing in the sunlight with her was everything he could hope for.
His restlessness, and most of his bitterness, had vanished, too.
He felt weightless. As if he could fly without the chopper, though he didn’t plan to put that to the test.
“Are you sure you gave me the right coordinates?” She glanced at him then, looking a little nervous as she punched buttons on her various monitors. “I don’t see any outposts for the supply run.”
“Don’t worry, Waverly.” He smiled. “We’re in the right place for what I had in mind. There’s a clearing right over there that you can put us down in, if that works for you.”
Given that she often landed helicopters on postage-stamp-sized pads that were essentially moving targets, he had figured it would be a cakewalk for her.
The guys had scoped it out for him and taken pictures that he’d reviewed with Captain Alex, who also had an extensive knowledge of aviation from his own time in the Navy. The guy had given Archer the thumbs-up on his selection. Just in case, they had plenty of gas to make it back if she didn’t feel comfortable for whatever reason.
“Archer?” she asked. “Is this really a business thing we’re doing?”
“Nope.” He grinned then, knowing the jig was up. “It’s a very, very personal thing. A romantic-as-fuck date thing.”
“Seriously?” She raised her brows but kept her eyes forward as she descended, landing dead-center in the clearing.
“Yes. This whole helicopter pilot business is awfully convenient. I loved my life before all this, Waverly. I swear I did. But some of these perks…”
“I totally know what you mean.” She finished shutting down, hopped from the helicopter, then waited for him near the edge of the palm trees. “I mean, in my old job, I never got to make out with my boss.”
They kissed for a while, forgetting where they were or that the rest of the world even existed outside of this slice of heaven. Eventually, he entwined their fingers and led her toward the beach on the south side of the islet.
When the path opened up and he could see what his friends had prepared, he realized why they had taken so damn long. They’d gone overboard for him today. Twice, he thought with a chuckle. Knowing they cared enough to help him score points with Waverly only made the day that much more meaningful.
“Oh, Archer.” She dropped her shoes and jogged the rest of the way toward the set up, her hair and dress blowing in the breeze as if she were a sea goddess. He’d never seen someone more elegant and gorgeous than her right then.
He wished he were a painter so that he could capture the moment forever.
When she looked back at him, the undiluted bliss on her face—rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, and captivating smile—made the mountain of suffering they’d done before finding each other again worth it. If he could spend a day like this with her even every once in a while, he’d die happy.
In the midst of hundreds of currently unlit pillar candles that dotted the beach, she spun around, her arms out.
At their very center was a humongous heart drawn in the sand. Of course his smartass friends hadn’t been able to resist and had also written Archie + Waverly 4Ever. He felt less guilty about Miguel’s impromptu dip after that, though Waverly seemed to love it.
She took out her phone and snapped pictures of the setup from every angle, as if she never wanted to forget a thing about it.
Two upside down, squared off U’s constructed of driftwood at least as tall as him had been pounded into the sand and draped with a long panel of sheer fabric, which fluttered in the wind. It provided shelter from the afternoon sun for the blanket spread and staked beneath it. A dozen or more oversized pillows made the space seem comforting and inviting.
Nearby, a table for two was set, and an ice chest waited for them to unpack it.
A handful of tiki torches scattered around completed the masterpiece.
Everything they needed for an exclusive, romantic retreat…they had it.
Most importantly, they had each other.
After the double drama of the day before—their emotional turmoil and the near-mugging, which the local authorities weren’t interested in investigating—they could use a day away from the rest of the world.
He planned to give her that.
Hopefully complete with lots of bone-melting sex.
What better way to relax was there than that?
Seventeen
Archer thought for a change of pace he would try drawing things out instead of pouncing on Waverly immediately. Each time they’d fucked the night before he’d had intentions of going slowly, taking her impossibly gently, but never seemed to make it past a few kisses before he lost every shred of restraint he possessed. Just like he had in the hotel in Caracas. Or hell, even the night she’d come to him the first time.
She didn’t help his cause, though, when she asked, “We’re alone here, right?”
“Completely,” he confirmed.
It was only a three syllable word, but by the time he got to the end of it, she’d grabbed the hem of her dress and whisked it over her head. Her bra and panties followed soon after as she made a beeline for the shore.
He started to jog toward her, leaving his own clothes in a trail on the sand as he ran to catch up with her. When he did, he growled, “Damn, you are something.”
“Something good, I hope.” She peeked up at him, still a tiny bit shy at her very core, giving him a glimpse of the girl he used to know.
“Magnificent.” He wrapped his arms around her bare shoulders and drew her to him for a kiss that felt more sensual to him than fucking had with other partners in the past. He savored the coconut and lime flavor of her lip gloss as he attempted to seduce her mouth with his own.
Her hands ran down his sides to his ass, kneading the muscles there even as she attempted to yank him closer to her. He resisted, not wanting to get carried away too soon.
Breaking their kiss, he said, “Come on.”
Their fingers automatically found their way to each other again, knitting together as they headed for the surf. It broke gently on the pristine white beach. When they reached it, Waverly kicked, splashing and laughing as if neither of them had a care in the world.
Did they have worries anymore? It didn’t seem like it when they were together.
Right now the only thing on his mind was making this a perfect afternoon and evening for her.
For them both.
He led her deeper, first up to their knees and then a little more. His hips were below the surge. Taller than her by a half a foot or so, he was steadier at that depth. So he braced her by putting his arms around her in another tender embrace.
The guys would never let him hear the end of it if he admitted that this—staring into her eyes, laughing together, and simply enjoying life—would be enough to satisfy him. Even if he didn’t know they were about to rival the intensity of the sun with their lovemaking, he would have been content just to hold her.
“You know, before you came back into my life, I’d sworn off meaningless affairs,” he told her then.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw that woman leaving your cabin less than an hour before we were reintroduced, remember?”
“Yeah, that was a moment of weakness. One that made it clear I was over that kind of hook up.” He grinned. “But thanks for making my vow of celibacy a short-lived one.”
She laughed.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear even though it only blew loose again immediately, wild and free, just like her. “I knew a
s soon as I saw you again that it hadn’t felt right because I wasn’t with the right person. I’ve only barely gotten you back, so this probably sounds crazy, but you’ve always been the one for me, Waverly. I know that now. It doesn’t feel like this with anyone else.”
“For me either.” She burrowed into his chest before continuing, “I dated. Slept with a handful of guys who were nice enough. Polite enough. Successful enough. But none of them ever made me desperate to be with them, like you do.”
“Does it scare you?” he asked.
“A little. After I left home, I swore I’d never depend on anyone again. But I’m starting to feel like if I don’t have you, I can’t be happy now that I see what it’s like already and the potential for what we could become to each other. It’s hard to give up control of my own destiny like that. And I have a feeling it’s only going to get more intense.”
He nodded, understanding perfectly. “Then at least I have company. I’m terrified, Waverly. Of fucking this up, of not deserving you, of not being able to be what you need.”
Silently, he thought of the clubroom on the Divemaster and what it would be like to tuck that facet of his sexuality away for good. It wasn’t as if Waverly was a submissive woman. He would miss it, but he thought he could make compromises, if it meant keeping her in his bed.
And his life.
“Don’t worry, Archer. You tick all my boxes. Everything I’ve ever wanted—everything I looked for in a man—was someone like you.” As she said it, she hopped, wrapping her legs around his hips.
He caught her, groaning as the heat of her pussy seared his bobbing erection, which had been chilled by the sea a moment earlier. “I’m falling for you, Waverly. All over again. Twice as hard, for this new and improved version of you.”
Her tight little nipples scored his chest as she rubbed against him.
“I’ve been obsessed with you since I was sixteen. I don’t see that changing any time soon. Especially not if you keep rocking my world in bed…or on the beach. It’s better every time. More than I could have imagined possible.”
Neither one of them dropped the L-word. He was okay with that. It was too quick for her to really mean it, considering how wary they’d both been forced to become about their surroundings and the people closest to them. When she said it to him, he wanted to believe it completely.
