Forget You

by Nina Crespo

  A drumming sound filled the boat.

  King clomped down the stairs, holding a pizza box. “It’s pouring out there.” He laid the box on the counter. His soaked shirt clung to his torso.

  “You should take off your clothes. I mean, at least your shirt. Don’t want you to catch a cold. It’s dry in here.” And cozy . . . and she was babbling. Just a minute ago, the place had seemed so large.

  “Yeah, I should.” Each flick of a button revealed more and more of his sculpted pecs and abs.

  Her heart sped up. Stop staring.

  King met her gaze. “Help yourself. To the pizza. Have a slice.” He snagged fresh clothes from the closet and shut himself in the small bathroom.

  Sophie fanned herself from a sudden flush of heat. What about barging through the door and helping herself to a slice of him? She dropped on the couch. The top binder on the stack slid to the cushion. He’d asked for her help in finding answers to his questions about the Ivy Gate. She should focus on that first.

  A loud thump came from the bathroom. “Shit!” He mumbled something else she couldn’t make out. A moment later, he came out wearing a steel-gray T-shirt and black cargo shorts. A red line marred the back of his left hand.

  She shot up. “You’re bleeding. What did you do?”

  “I grazed it on the edge of the medicine cabinet.”

  “Is the first-aid kit in the bathroom?”

  He snagged her arm before she slid past. “It’s not bleeding anymore. I’m fine.”

  His chest brushed her arm with his steady inhale.

  The scent of laundry soap and King’s warmth pulled her in. If she rose to her toes, she could kiss away his frown. “You should let me put a Band-Aid on it.”

  King’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He let go and backed up. “No. We can eat while we work. Do you mind plating up the food? I’ll grab the drinks. What do you want?”

  Work. Right. “Water. How many slices for you?”

  “Two.” He grabbed two bottles from the fridge while she found plates in the cabinet and took care of the pizza.

  King angled the table in a way that forced them to sit on opposite sides of the V-shaped couch.

  She traded him his plate for a bottle.

  They ate in silence.

  Sophie nibbled on a slice. Could this get any more awkward? Did he plan to keep her at arm’s length the entire weekend? She did kick him out of her apartment and had vowed she’d never sleep with him again. Big consideration. And she’d ignored it. Just because she’d decided to reverse course on them not having sex didn’t mean he was on board with the change.

  He polished off his pizza, then picked up two of the binders. “These are copies of the general analysis on the Ivy Gate. The other has the financials.”

  Sophie accepted one of the books. The weight of it drove her hands to the table. “What are we trying to find?”

  “I don’t know.” King cracked open his water. “It’s okay to tell me I’m taking this to the extreme. Aiden has. He thinks going through all of this is a waste of time.”

  “If the extreme helps you feel more comfortable about the deal, it’s not.”

  “Thanks.” A small smile softened his serious expression. “I appreciate you being on my side.”

  Reading the equivalent of a dictionary while cruising with a man who made her life far more complicated than simple—what wasn’t there to love about the situation? “You offered me a free trip. How could I refuse?”

  “Seriously. I mean it. You have reasons not to back me up. This means a lot.”

  She’d witnessed the glimpses of more sincerity in him over the past few weeks. She was so used to him being cocky, she’d ignored it, but the honesty, concern, and appreciation reflected in his eyes now wasn’t an act.

  A tinge of guilt surfaced for her own selfish, physical desires . . . and misjudgments. “You’re welcome.” She opened the book. “Now let’s find what you’re looking for.”

  Three-quarters of a pizza and a half binder later, the words blurred on the page in front of King. The hotel’s history since its inception. Background on the owners from previous to present. Guest demographics. All boring reading that had yielded nothing.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. The pressure didn’t alleviate the dull throb spreading from his eyes into his forehead.

  Sophie closed the binder. “You should take a break.”

  “I’m going to read a few more pages.” He massaged his temples. “Go to bed if you’re tired.”

  “Isn’t a good night’s sleep a requirement before operating a boat?”

  “Yes, but that won’t happen with this headache.”

  She set the binder aside on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Do you still have a prescription for pain meds?”

  “Yes, but I stopped taking them a long time ago. They make me less sharp.”

  “So hurting is a better choice?”

  It was if it distracted him from the jeans and T-shirt that fit every one of her tight, tempting curves. That’s what had been on his mind when he’d slammed his hand in the cabinet earlier. At least one thing had come out of it. He’d lost his hard-on. But on second thought . . . nope. It was back.

  He forced a smile. “I’ll get through it.”

  She stood. “I’m going to give you a head massage.” She paused at his incredulous expression. “What’s with the look? I’m not trying to tie you up or anything.”

  If she tried, he could turn the tables and hold her down on the bed. Then he could show her the merits of leaving him hands-free. “No.”

  She sat next to him. “Stop being so stubborn. Stretch out on the couch and lay your head on my lap.”

  Was she trying to kill him? King suppressed a groan. Sex had nothing to do with this weekend. That’s what he’d told her. He had to keep his promise.

  She patted her thighs.

  Shit. I can do this. One damn massage wouldn’t ruin anything. He lay down as she’d instructed.

  “Just relax.” She massaged his temples.

  With each slow circle, his discomfort subsided.

  She shifted slightly and turned her attention to his scalp and the back of his head.

  Tension drained out of him along with a groan of pleasure. “Where did you learn to do this?”

  “I got a lot of practice with my mom. This always made her feel better.” Her voice faded to a near whisper. “She was stubborn about taking painkillers too.”

  When she’d started working at Kingman Partners, Aiden had told him she’d lost her mother. Sophie had never mentioned her before, and he’d respected her privacy.

  He forced his heavy lids open. Her expression had grown sad and faraway. “Was she ill long?”

  “Eight months. One day she went to the doctor about a hurt shoulder that wouldn’t heal. The next, we were battling cancer. It had metastasized. The tumor in her brain was inoperable.”

  He held her hand. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

  “It was hard, but I’m thankful that in the end, she didn’t suffer. She didn’t deserve to live with pain.” Sophie gave him a small smile. “And neither do you.” She eased her hand from his. “Close your eyes. Worry about the Ivy Gate tomorrow.”

  Questions King wanted to ask dissipated in the firm, even movement of her fingers. He could have beat the storm, but he’d delayed, willing her to join him. He needed her help to untangle his mind as much as the gut feeling he couldn’t shake. On some level, he didn’t want to remember their night together. He’d hurt her, and because of that, she’d lost her faith in him. Remorse crept into the lethargy pulling him under into sleep. If only he could get it back.

  Hours later, half-awake, he shifted on the cushions. As he spooned Sophie tighter against him, he brushed over the soft, warm skin of her stomach and the rivet closure of her jeans. Blood pulsed below his waist. She’d feel even better underneath him. Wrong! Like a game show buzzer the word sounded in his mind. He jerked awake but couldn’t sit up.

>   Sophie lay asleep on his arm. She wiggled back, trapping him between her and the back of the couch.

  His swelling cock fit perfectly against the curve of her ass. He tugged his arm free.

  Her lids partially opened. “Wha . . . what’s wrong?”

  “Need to get up.” He crawled over her. As his hips—and his erection—brushed over her abdomen, want rushed through his veins. His jaw ached from the clench of his teeth. His foot touched the floor.

  Her eyes fully opened. An alluring smile tempted him to kiss her lush lips.

  Time to move. He sprang up and whacked his leg against the table. “Fuck!”

  She sat up and smoothed hair from her eyes. “Hey. Are you okay?”

  Tingling pain radiated from his knee. His eyes watered. “Good. Real good.” His swollen cock and his injury made him hobble into the bathroom. Behind the closed door, he stripped and went straight to a cold shower. King propped a hand on the wall, bowed his head, and let the water run over him. He shivered. He still had one good hand and another leg. No matter what, he was keeping all body parts, injured or otherwise, away from her the entire damn weekend.

  twenty

  IN HER DREAMS, Sophie sat up on the towel and tipped her sunglasses down her nose.

  The tide rolled lazily over white sand, and a cool breeze stirred up the fragrance of ocean brine. The sun’s rays glistened on white-capped waves and reflected in the foamy swirls and froth churning on the surface.

  King swam through the water in one graceful ripple after another.

  In the dream, Sophie adjusted the top of her crimson bikini. This is wonderful. She and King alone in a beautiful place. No computer, phone, or deadlines demanding attention. Only one very serious decision for her to make—when to ask him to put on more sunscreen.

  He rose out of the surf and raked his hair. Every muscle in his bronzed, powerful body flexed. He showed no exertion from his swim.

  She could hardly breathe, completely mesmerized by the arousal his black trunks failed to hide. Her middle hollowed and filled with a rush of pure longing. He was chiseled male perfection. He was pleasure. And all hers.

  She stood as he approached and sand caved around her toes.

  His blue eyes captivated her as he grasped her hand and kissed her palm. “Sophie. We need to begin.”

  She stroked his chest. “Where should we start?”

  He gathered her close and brushed a kiss over her lips. “With the reports on the Ivy Gate. We have to get through them before Aiden closes the deal.”

  “Nooo!” Wakefulness catapulted her out of the dream. She untangled her arms and legs from the sheets.

  “Sophie,” King called to her from the top deck. “Are you up? We need to get going on these reports.”

  “Yes.” Day two of her continuing nightmare of boating with King. Shit. She trudged to the bathroom.

  She was doing her best to remain compassionate, but she was horny as hell. A few times, in between turning the pages, she’d caught him staring. She’d also witnessed his hard-ons. Yesterday, she’d worn beige booty shorts and a tight white cropped tee with no bra during the day, then changed into a formfitting, ultrashort sundress with a thong underneath that night, trying to gain his attention. The only things he couldn’t seem to resist were multiple showers, injuring himself, or staying buried in the report. She couldn’t take it anymore.

  Sophie strangled the toothpaste tube and a huge glob poured out. As she rinsed some of it off, droplets of water spattered the mirror.

  Faint shadows rimmed her eyes. Late last night, when King had insisted they start going through all of the binders for the second time, he’d appeared even more worn-out than her. He’d refused to accept that they couldn’t find anything wrong. King was obsessed. He needed a distraction. She needed him. Time to level up to her A-game.

  A few minutes later, she climbed to the upper deck. A breeze ruffled the sleeves of her short crimson tunic. The semisheer fabric-and-lace cover-up showed nothing but hinted at the brevity of the matching bikini she wore underneath it.

  The sun crested on the horizon of the Atlantic into a cloudless sky. Anchored off the Carolinas, the coast appeared as a thin, distant line.

  King sat at the white table nestled in the green padded, U-shaped seating space in the cockpit. His white button-down and green-and-white board shorts were crisp and unwrinkled. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze.

  She strolled closer, but his focus remained on an opened binder on the table as he munched on grapes from a bowl of fruit. “I’ve been rereading the construction notes from when the hotel was built seven years ago,” he said without looking up. “The amount of money the original company put into the place is staggering. High quality at every level.” He shook his head. “I can’t understand why the current owners didn’t capitalize on what they had instead of trying to change it.”

  They’d discussed that point already, along with several others. No way in hell were they going down that path again. “Sometimes change is exactly what’s needed.”

  He stayed engrossed in the binder. “It was a stupid decision. What was the motivation?”

  “Everyone has their reasons.” Okay . . . Phase one, the grand entrance, didn’t work. Time for phase two. She sat down. “I’m a little hot.”

  “It’s supposed to reach the midnineties today.” He studied the page. “Make sure you put on sunscreen.”

  “That’s a really good idea.” She pulled off the cover-up. Her red jeweled charm bracelet rattled as she flung it on the open pages. “Care to help?”

  He stared at the cover-up for a long moment. Then looked to her. His gaze remained just where she’d hoped. He stared at her breasts, nearly spilling out of the triangles of her bikini top.

  King visibly swallowed and a flush surged from his neck, exposed by the open collar of his shirt, up to his face. “Sunscreen won’t be enough. You should really put on more clothes.”

  “But I’m comfortable.” Sophie plucked a strawberry from the fruit bowl. “What about you?”

  His gaze followed her hand as she brought the fruit to her mouth, took a bite, and slowly licked the juice from her lips.

  A bulge formed in the front of his board shorts. He shifted in his seat. “We have work to do.”

  “Don’t you want to finish breakfast?” Sophie trailed her finger through a bowl of honey-sweetened yogurt. She sucked it away with an audible pop. “You know what they say. It’s the most important meal of the day. And I love breakfast.”

  Sweat glistened on his brow even though he sat in the shade. “I do too.”

  Finally, they were speaking a common language. Sophie slid closer to him. She picked up a grape and held it to his mouth. “Then you should eat.”

  Eyes fixed on her, he leaned in.

  Just before he reached the fruit, she slipped it into her mouth. “Too slow.” The gleam in his eyes sparked a smile she couldn’t stop. She ate another grape.

  King, not able to take it anymore, swooped in and dipped his tongue past her lips and swirled the fruit and its juices in her mouth. Sweetness and a heady longing for more seeped into her. She grasped hold of his collar. He grabbed hold of her nape. King devoured the soft moans she couldn’t hold back as he went deeper and kissed her harder. Each stroke into her mouth reminded Sophie of how completely he would fill her, take her, please her with his hard length.

  She cupped his erection and he swelled larger in her palm. Her heart rate quickened. Once she freed him, she would be riding her way to paradise.

  Groaning, he broke from the kiss. “What are you doing trying to do me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She pulled the string tying his shorts.

  “Yeah. You’re screwing up my good intentions.” As he kissed along her jawline, he pressed his hard cock into her palm. “You said sex was no longer an option for us. Just work.”

  She unbuttoned his shirt. “I changed my mind for the weekend. I want you.”

  “The weekend?” Incredulity
filled his tone but he kept sweeping kisses down her neck. “We could have been in bed this entire time? I’ve been going crazy trying to keep my hands off of you.” He caressed up her thigh.

  So those skimpy outfits had snagged his attention. A giggle escaped.

  “You think me talking down a hard-on and staying awake all night because of it is funny?”

  She tried to kiss away his frown and stroked his chest. “We still have a few hours.”

  “Yeah, we do.” He tugged the bikini strings loose on her hip.

  Her pulse ticked up. “Wait. We’re out in the open.”

  He unknotted the other side of her bikini bottoms. “Like you said, we only have a few hours.” His startling blue eyes turned silvery gray. “And I owe you payback.” He peeled away the front triangle of her bikini bottoms then glided a finger along the seam of her sex.

  “Oh?” Her thighs quivered. Payback. Paying her dues. Making up for lost time. Reaping the benefits. She didn’t care what he called it as long as it involved them being naked.

  King kissed Sophie and pulled her with him toward the edge of the seat. Her bikini bottoms were left behind.

  He stood and she went to follow. King clutched her thighs and knelt. “Uh-uh.” He caressed up her calves, seemingly mesmerized by them. “You stay right there.”

  As he followed his caress up her legs with kisses, she followed his lead and rested her legs over his shoulders. As he grasped her hips and pulled her closer, want and triumph swelled inside of her. She’d brought him to his knees.

  The first flick of his tongue made her gasp. One slow dive inside of her followed by the circling of her clit made her shake. Waves of pleasure from his sensual onslaught pulled out needy sounds she’d never made before in her life.

  The drone of an engine joined the slap of water against the boat.

  She tried to pull away. “Someone is coming.”