by Emily Bishop
Black blurred at the edges of my vision, and my stomach rolled. It felt like someone was poking a thousand needles into a voodoo doll of my body, mainly centered around my heart. I broke through the surface and gulped in deep, gasping breaths.
But I didn’t have time to catch my breath. I swam harder than I ever had before in the direction of Fiona and the capsized boat.
It felt like the oxygen I was sucking in wasn’t reaching my lungs. I sputtered as I breathed in water, too scared to stop for so much as a second to think about what I was doing.
When I finally reached the boat, I ducked under the edge of it, plunging my head back into the water. I resurfaced beneath the boat, next to where Fiona was floating. The overturned boat had created an air pocket where we’d been sitting just seconds ago. I nearly fainted with relief when I saw that, miraculously, Fiona was facing up.
Her breathing came in shallow gasps, but she was breathing. With pure brute strength and adrenaline, I managed to get the boat off her and cupped her chin to secure her airway. Then I started towing her toward the shore.
Mercifully, we weren’t too far out. The water was still choppy from the speed boat’s wake but the boat itself was long gone. My only choice was to get Fiona back to land.
I held her secure against my body with one arm. With the other, I paddled awkwardly toward shore. Every one-armed stroke forced my head underwater but at least I was able to keep Fiona above the surface. Every time I came up for air, I gasped for breath.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, but my muscles burned in agony with every desperate stroke toward land. My lungs felt smaller. Every breath I took wasn’t enough to fuel my body.
I focused on Fiona. If I could just be strong for her, I could keep her safe. Just one more stroke, I promised myself when it felt like my limbs were failing. Just one more stroke. And now one more.
I didn’t know how many strokes it finally took, but my kicking feet struck sandy soil beneath me. We made it.
With the last of my strength, I heaved Fiona out of the water and up onto the narrow strip of beach. I collapsed beside her with my face in the gritty sand. I sucked in deep, desperate breaths, trying to still my jackhammering heart.
After an eternity, I was finally able to move. I gently cradled Fiona in my arms and walked her farther up the beach before setting her down and counting out her pulse. I thanked every god that had ever been prayed to that I’d taken a first aid course and had learned a couple of water rescue tricks at a convention for small boating enthusiasts a few years earlier.
I located her breastbone, tilted her head, and pressed my lips to hers to resuscitate her. After a few breaths, she sputtered. I turned her on her side in case there was any water in her lungs. As soon as I was sure that there wasn’t, I sank down onto the sand and pulled her onto my lap, breathing her in and tightening my arms around her.
She shook like a leaf. There was terror in her eyes when she looked up at me. “Where’s the boat?”
That’s her first question?
“Fuck the boat. We need to get you to a hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” she rasped. “I’m fine. I just got knocked out for a minute. Just lying here in the sun is helping.”
“You could have a concussion, Fiona.” It didn’t look like it, judging by her pupils, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“I don’t. The boat hit me in the chest and knocked the air out of me. I just need to catch my breath. Would you lie with me for a minute?”
I didn’t have it in me to argue with her, but I watched her very closely and monitored her breathing when she lapsed off to sleep in my arms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fiona
I came to, feeling warm and dry as I stretched my limbs gingerly. I was crusted with sand and salt but, otherwise, I felt much better.
Cracking open an eye, I surveyed my surroundings. We were still on the beach, with Shane propped up on one elbow next to me, watching me closely. There was no one around as far as the eye could see.
I felt his skin burning into mine and realized that we were both naked and wrapped in a blanket. His arm was draped over my stomach, and I suddenly felt even warmer. Heat spread from every inch of contact between us and lit a fire in my core.
“How are you feeling?” His eyes were as dark and deep as the water that had almost killed us. And they were tight with concern.
“Better.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip, and desire tingled over me. I stared up at his chiseled jaw and the stubble growing there, imagining the feel of it between my thighs. I was sure that I shouldn’t be thinking about that, given our earlier experience, but I felt fine and couldn’t help myself.
My heart swelled as I drank in the full effect of him in the fading sunlight. Shane’s muscles stood out in hard lines. His chestnut hair stood up in messy spikes, and he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world, the only thing in existence. As if everything else had faded for him, and he could only see me.
He brought up a hand to trace my cheek and jawline, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my lips. It was over before it even really began, succeeding only in increasing my hunger for him and letting loose the butterflies in my stomach.
He chuckled softly. “Only you would be thinking about that right now.”
I flushed. I swear it was like he could read my damned mind. “What? It’s not only me. I wasn’t naked when I fell asleep. Which brings me to my next question: Why are we naked?”
“Are you objecting?” He arched an eyebrow and flashed me a knowing smirk as he brushed the back of his hand across my hardened nipple on his way back to its resting place on my stomach. I sucked in a deep breath, electrified by that one, tiny touch.
“Never,” I gasped. “But why?”
“I had to get us out of our wet clothes so that you could dry off.” The lust that had been creeping into his eyes by our easy banter flickered out, completely replaced by concern.
“What have you been doing all the time I was out?” I wanted to get him to say whatever he wanted to before doing my best to bring the lusty, passionate look back.
“Watching you rest,” he said simply. “You’re beautiful. I thought I should tell you again.”
I swore I could feel my heart fluttering at his words, no matter how many times he said them. “So are you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his eyes running over every inch of me. It was more like he was checking me for injuries than checking me out but it made me feel hot all over.
“I’m sure,” I said.
I placed my hand on his and guided it slowly down my stomach and between my legs.
Shane groaned when he found me swollen and ready. “God, Fiona, how are you this wet?”
“You touched me,” I breathed, feeling him lengthening and hardening against my thigh.
“Barely,” he said.
He slid his fingers into my slit, his breathing growing heavy as he rubbed up and down. I couldn’t believe how much better it felt when he did it. My eyes fluttered closed as spasms of pleasure rolled through me from his simple touch.
I swallowed a low moan and repeated his earlier words back to him. “Are you objecting?”
“Never,” he groaned, lowering his lips to mine and kissing me breathless. His fingers pushed into my hot center, fucking me slowly, leisurely.
He increased his pace at exactly the right time, reading my body and its needs like the open book it seemed to be. I writhed underneath his touch, arching into him, desperate for every bit of sensation I could get from him.
Shane dragged the rough pad of his thumb over my most sensitive bundle of nerves, and I cried out, moaning into his mouth as I thrashed against him. He brushed my clit again and again, until I was ready to come to pieces around his fingers.
Then he stopped with a low growl and positioned himself over me. His tip straining at my entrance was too much. I needed him. I rolled my hips,
and he smiled against my mouth as he sank into me.
I moaned in relief, finally feeling full and whole for what felt like the first time since we’d last been together. In that moment, it dawned on me that I was not only in love with the man but deeply, madly, out of my mind in love with him.
The words jumped to the tip of my tongue but were replaced by a moan when he hit just the right spot deep inside me. Then they flew from my mind when he rubbed against it again. His movements took me higher and higher, closer to the edge with every delicious thrust of his hips.
I opened my eyes to watch his muscles bunch and release, to see the power that I could feel beneath the surface. His throat worked, his lips parted, and his eyes, heavy and half-lidded, burned into me with outrageous intensity.
Out of all the sensations he caused me to feel, it was that one look that sent me toppling over the edge. I flew like a cannonball, the weight of Shane’s body the only thing keeping me anchored to the ground.
Pulses of pleasure flowed from my center to the very tips of my fingers and toes. Little white lights exploded in my vision as I struggled to keep my eyes open. I didn’t want to miss one moment with him, not even to let my eyes close as I rode wave after wave of pleasure.
Shane kept his rhythm steady, riding me through my orgasm. He didn’t let up when the pleasure started subsiding. He kept up the same mind-blowing rocking of his hips. A low moan rippled through my chest when he reached down and pressed a finger to my clit, drawing circles around it that became tighter and smaller as his thighs started shaking.
He was close. Very, very close. I moaned.
“Come with me,” he rasped.
He increased the speed of his hips and the pressure of his finger. As soon as I felt the first twitch of his cock deep inside me and saw the look of pure bliss on his face, I followed him straight over the edge again.
Somehow, that orgasm was more powerful than the one that came before it. It ripped through me like lightning. I cried out, and Shane’s deep moans of pleasure mixed with mine until we both collapsed, limbs intertwined and hearts beating fast against one another’s chests.
My heart was still beating rapidly when Shane rolled away and brought me to his chest in what was fast becoming my favorite position after sex. I rested my head over his heart and listened to it as it calmed down.
“There’s something I should tell you,” he said softly.
My stomach dropped, and I stopped tracing the lines that I had been making with my fingertips on his abdomen.
“You want to do this now?” I asked, pain already threatening to rip through me. I wasn’t ready to brace myself for bad news just yet.
“Hey, I promise it’s not anything bad,” he soothed. “It’s just that, when I said earlier that I’d made my choice, I didn’t mean that I had quit.”
I lifted my head, frowning as I tried to figure out how that wasn’t bad news. “If you didn’t quit, what did you choose?”
“You,” I replied immediately. “I chose you.”
“So, what are you going to do then?” I didn’t understand.
“I’ll make it work. It’s my company. I can work remotely, and I’ll travel as little as humanly possible. I promise.” He lifted my hand and kissed the palm, sincerity in his eyes under the pale moonlight.
I paused. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“I’m not asking you to. Of course, if and when you want to come to Houston, or wherever I need to be—” he started but he misunderstood me.
“I mean that I’m not the type of person who can hold someone back. So I don’t know if I can let you do this.” I wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t ask him to give up everything for me.
“You won’t be holding me back,” he argued, tightening the grip that he had around my waist.
“I know how much commitment your job takes. It’s not going to be that easy,” I said, dread washing over me. I was caught between a rock and hard place. As much as I wanted him, I didn’t want him to give up the most important thing in his life for me.
“It will be. I’m mostly a figurehead, anyway,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “I can attend meetings via Skype, set up a proper home office with all the toys that I need, and do most of my job from here. Easily. The shareholders summit is only a few weeks in December, and I might have to fly out for a few weeks during the quarterly review, but I won’t be gone for too long. And you could always come with me.”
The dread that had washed over me settled squarely in my stomach. He was definitely not just a figurehead. Running his company was obviously an all-consuming, full-time job. Wouldn’t a quarterly review be at least four times a year? And gone for Christmas?
“That doesn’t sound easy at all,” I protested, pointing out the obvious.
He planted a soft kiss on my forehead, wrapping a strong hand around the nape of my neck and drawing me to him. “If you’re ready to be with me, Fiona, there is nothing I won’t do to make this work. Please don’t overthink it.”
Lowering his head for a sweet kiss, I offered my lips to him, and he claimed them hungrily, despite the fact that we’d barely caught our breath. I couldn’t shake my lingering worry, though. I loved seeing Shane, but I just wasn’t sure that our relationship could last.
I gave myself over to his eager kisses, praying that they wouldn’t be the last.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shane
An annoying ringing noise ripped me from a seriously hot dream I was having about Fiona the next morning. We’d spent hours on that beach the night before, talking and laughing once we’d had our fill of each other, which took hours. I’d dropped Fiona at her house just about five hours ago.
I groaned, rolling over to pick up my incessantly ringing phone.
“Mr. Perkins, I’m sorry to bother you,” Justin said. “I have a Mr. Peters here, who insists that he must speak with you right away.”
Peters was one of my more senior board members. Why wasn’t he calling directly? Then I remembered that I’d diverted the calls from my business phone to my personal but had set it so that business calls could only come through within business hours. So much for that plan.
“What does Peters want?” I asked, still feeling groggy but knowing that I had about three seconds to become alert. To get my head in the game.
“I don’t know, sir. There seems to be a problem with Mr. Burrows.”
I frowned, instantly alert. Bart? What the fuck? “Put Peters on. Thank you, Justin.”
“Where are you Shane?” Peters asked.
Well, good morning to you, too, asshole.
“Busy. Why? What’s going on with Bart?”
“He’s pushing some public relations agenda but security has apparently been instructed to remove him from the premises.” Peters sounded alarmed. “No one really knows what’s going on, if I’m honest.”
“He’s been terminated, that’s what. Security has been instructed to remove him with force, if necessary, because there are sensitive documents on site that he could try to remove or tamper with.” I had no idea why I was explaining myself to this asshole.
“I know he was terminated, but the board is upset, Perkins. To most of us, even though you consulted us on the basics of his termination, his expulsion was sudden, and relatively inexplicable, given his length of service.” Peters spoke briskly, over a sudden commotion that broke out in the office.
“What’s happening?” I bit out, shooting out of bed and pacing the room.
“Wherever the fuck you are, get your ass back here, Shane. I mean it. Bart has barricaded himself in a conference room and refuses to come out until he sees you. He claims to have enough snacks and bottled water to last him for the rest of his life and then some.”
I was already in motion, headed for the bathroom to take a quick shower before I jumped back on the jet.
I showered and dressed quickly. There was no need to pack anything. I would be back in a few days and had enough suits and spare toil
etries at my place in Houston. I grabbed my keys and jogged to the truck.
A part of me screamed that I was insane to even consider trying to do this for any considerable period of time but I shut it down. I’d told Fiona that I would do anything to be with her, and I was dead serious about it.
I placed a call to her after ensuring that Eric would be waiting at the airstrip. He was ready, as always. With Fiona, on the other hand, I didn’t know what to expect.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said, sounding sleepy and sexy as hell.
“Hey, baby. Sleep well?” I was putting off the inevitable, but I couldn’t help it.
She didn’t answer immediately. “Yeah. What’s wrong?”
“I’m really sorry that I have to take off so soon, but I have to go back to Houston. There’s a problem there that I have to sort out, and no one else can take care of this one.” I willed her to see that I would’ve delegated the task if there was any way that I could’ve.
“So soon?” Her voice was barely more than whisper. “Okay, I guess I’ll just see you around, then?”
“I’ll be back in a couple of days, tops, I promise. We can figure everything out then. Please just give me a chance?”
“Sure, go do your thing, I’ll be here.” She sounded sad, sadder than I ever wanted her to feel, and I felt like an asshole, knowing that I was the cause of it.
The hesitation in her voice did nothing to soothe my nerves. I could practically hear her thoughts. She saw this as yet another one of the many nails in our coffin, inevitably wondering how many times I was going to call and bail at a moment’s notice. She thought it would be all the damn time.
I thought about it all the way to Houston. I had to find a way to start removing nails from that coffin, instead of continually hammering more. I needed someone in Houston that I could trust to act on my behalf while I stayed on as CEO, but the only person I could think of that would have been able to do it was currently barricaded in a conference room.
