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House of Payne: Styx

Page 21

by Stacy Gail


  “Your family is amazing,” she said as they closed in on the Aye Calypso, a forty-foot, sleek cruiser with an elevated wheelhouse and a gleaming white and blue hull. “Loud and crazy, with no filters to speak of. It must’ve been great, growing up in that kind of environment.”

  “I have every intention of raising my kids the same way. Tina, Trey and I had a great childhood.”

  “It shows,” Sydney said softly, and couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what kind of kids a man like Styx would have. If they were even a little like their father, they’d be just about perfect. “For one thing, you all still like being around each other.”

  “Speaking of which, Trey heard from our dad, who was told by our uncle, who helped me service the boat last evening, that I had the day off today.”

  It took her a moment for her to follow the line of relatives. “Okay…?”

  “Long story short, Trey and Maeve want us to come over for dinner tonight. As long as they don’t mind us coming in straight from the lake, I figured it’d be cool. But if you don’t want to go, we can always beg off.”

  “Sounds great,” she said immediately, remembering all too well it was Styx’s resistance to Maeve in the first place that landed her in the role of fake girlfriend. “As your official fake girlfriend, I’m here to show a dazzling united front for all your family members to enjoy. Besides, I wanted to get to know Maeve a little better last Sunday, but I didn’t get a chance to.”

  “Fake girlfriend.” Instead of heading to the slip where the magnificent Aye Calypso was moored, Styx came to a stop, turned and snagged her at the hips to pull her up against him. “You do know we’ve blown right past all that shit, yeah? All that pretend crap got left in the rearview mirror the first time I fucked you while you were hanging upside down on the back of the couch. Which, by the way, is one of my all-time favorite memories. I’d commemorate that fuck in an epic poem if I knew how to do something like that.”

  A poet he wasn’t, but he was so much of everything else she was more than happy to overlook it. “I suppose I could do worse in the boyfriend department. Not every woman wakes up with their man's mouth between their legs. They should, but they don't.”

  “Yeah, consider yourself lucky.”

  “I do.” Giddy happiness blossomed in her chest, so much so she couldn't help but laugh out loud before throwing her arms around him. “I'm now officially your for-real girlfriend. That means I'm the luckiest woman around.”

  “You're the only woman around that I can see at the moment.” But her statement seemed to please him, if the hard kiss he gave her was any indication. Then he took her by the hand and led her to Aye Calypso’s slip, squeezing her fingers as he went. “Most wage-slaves are doing their thing at work this time of day, so we get the lake all to ourselves.”

  It was a slight exaggeration that they had the lake to themselves, as Sydney spotted a beautiful white and red sailboat making its way out of the Chicago Yacht Club. But as Styx went up to the bridge, roaring the engine to life while she stowed her tote in a cubby under a padded bench, there was no denying the sense of being in their own private world.

  It was a world she never wanted to leave.

  Minutes later, they left the harbor behind and slowly motored up the coast toward the iconic view of Navy Pier, with its famous Ferris wheel silhouetted against a cloudless autumn blue sky, and the breathtaking Chicago skyline hugging the lake’s sandy shore. She’d seen this postcard-view of the city countless times—hell, it was the backdrop for her preferred local TV news. But to see the sheer scope of the city she’d grown up in from the water firsthand was both amazing and weirdly unrecognizable, like she’d never see it before.

  But it was her city, and she loved every crazy inch of it.

  “What do you think?” Styx raised his voice over the low rumble of the engines as she climbed the three steep steps up to where he stood. A shiny chrome wheel, a throttle and a whole bunch of other gizmos were before him in what looked like a cockpit, and as he spoke, he slowly began to turn the boat away from the city. “Aren’t you sorry you skipped twenty-plus years of life not being on the water?”

  “You know what they say, better late than never.” Moving between him and the seat he was currently ignoring, she wrapped her arms around him from behind and nuzzled her temple against his shoulder. “It’s all so beautiful. I’ll never forget it, Styx. Thank you for this.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Fun-Size. We haven’t even started.”

  “Started? Started what?”

  “Come around here and get in front of me. You’re going to make us fly.”

  “Uh, okay.” Baffled but willing to try anything once, they changed places, with Styx leaning back into the barstool-high seat before placing her between his long legs. With her back to his chest and his chin almost resting on her shoulder, he took her hand and placed it on the throttle.

  “We’re heading up the coast to a favorite fishing spot Trey and I found right off a little island that’s so small it doesn’t even have a name. If we push it, we can be there in half an hour.” Brushing a kiss along her jaw line, he kept his hand over hers on the throttle, while his other hand remained strong and sure on the boat’s wheel. “Ready to push it?”

  Her heart skipped several beats. “Let’s do it.”

  His chuckle was the last thing she heard before he pushed her hand holding the throttle forward, and with a roar of the engines, they were off. The speed of the boat itself was shocking, but even more than that was the sensation of gliding as if on ice rather than water, and it was no doubt the closest she’d ever come to flying in her life. Exhilaration surged through her as the coastline became less and less civilized, and all she could think was that she wanted it to last forever.

  No.

  What she wanted was to have this wonderful flying sensation of being totally free, while Styx was at her back, being her chair and her warmth, and her never-ending security.

  That was what she wanted.

  For half an hour or so he helped her drive, executing a boat’s version of donuts in an icy parking lot until she finally squealed and promised she was going to puke if they didn’t stop. Their joyride was so exhilarating she was almost sorry when he took back control of the boat and throttled back as they approached a tiny outcropping of rocks that at its highest, was only ten feet or so above the water level. The outcropping was capped with a dense crown of pines that looked inaccessible to anything but a mountain goat that could also swim. Now that they weren’t flying over the water, the scents of moss, wet earth and damp wood filled her senses. As the autumn sun shone warmly down on them and she listened to the water lapping gently against the boat’s hull, she doubted life could any better.

  “We’re not going onto that rock, because there’s no beach to speak of, not to mention it’s a little late in the season to go swimming,” he said, glancing at the outcropping. “But we are going to drop anchor and get out the fishing gear. Trees have been falling into the water from that island since forever, so over time it’s made itself a nice little ecosystem. Tiny fish love to hide in laydowns—or sunken trees—and the big fish love the tiny fish. That’s your first fishing lesson right there, by the way.”

  “Damn, I should be taking notes.” Obligingly she followed him down to the main deck, where he was already squeezing himself through a door situated directly beneath the bridge. She caught a glimpse of a double bunk and built-in storage lockers. “What kind of fish are in the lake, anyway? I’ve lived here all my life and I have no idea if there are, like, sturgeons or trout or Loch Ness Monsters in here.”

  “I’m hoping we’ll pull some bass in this area today.” Poles and tackle boxes came out before he sat her down in one of four built-in cushy swivel seats. “Did you learn what to do with freshly caught fish at that swank French school you went to?”

  “If we’re lucky enough to catch anything today, I’ll cook up the most memorable fish dinner you’ve ever had. You’ll wonder how you e
ver ate anything without me making it.”

  “You’re on.” Grinning like a kid in a candy store, he snagged up her tote from where she’d stowed it and dropped it in her lap. “Sunscreen. And make sure you keep your tat covered up, yeah? You’re still healing, and sun is never good for tats even at the best of times.”

  “What about your tattoos?” Automatically her gaze slid over his arms and upper chest, which were exposed to the sun thanks to his slim-fit V-neck T-shirt. His legs were also exposed by his khaki cargo shorts, and while he didn't have as much ink on his legs as he did his torso, there was still artwork there that needed to be protected.

  “I'll get on the whole sunscreen thing once I've got the equipment set up.”

  “You sure you won't forget?” As she spoke, she smoothed sunscreen onto her legs up to her blue and white plaid walking shorts, and ignored the parts she had already taken care of, namely her face, neck and arms left bear by her white polo shirt. “I could help you out.”

  “Yeah?” Sitting next to her with a fishing pole and a tackle box, he slid her a slow, appraising look. “Do I look like I need help?”

  “You look busy.” Lordy, lordy, was all she could think, trying not to fan herself. That look he gave her, coupled with his tone that had dropped to an insanely sexy rumble, was all it took to get her girly parts tingling. “With your hands all occupied and everything, I just wanted to make sure my man's beautiful, work-of-art body is protected.”

  His face darkened in what almost looked like a blush, but she knew better. That rush of heat was pure hunger, and watching it bloom made her own lust skyrocket.

  God help her, would she ever stop wanting this man?

  “Damn, woman,” he muttered, and the sound of his raspy purr made her pelvic muscles tighten and the heat between her legs surge. “That sweet mouth of yours and the things it says.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  “Hell, no. You’re the cause of my sweet pain, and you give me the cure that’s even sweeter. You’re the song in my head that’s driving me fucking crazy, but I’m so far gone I don’t even care. The one thing you’ll never be is a problem…unless you’re more than an arm’s length away from me. That would be a helluva problem.”

  “I’m right here.” Her heart began to tumble in the best way as she squeezed some sunscreen into her palm, rubbed it between her hands, then moved to smooth the lotion along his lower legs. “The feel of sunscreen is so gross, don’t you think? It’s bad enough putting it on, but after it dries, you feel so hot and sticky.”

  “There are much better ways of getting hot and sticky. Let me show you.” Abandoning the fishing gear, he pulled her between his knees and kissed her deeply. Desire hit her system like a drug, because she could feel how much this man wanted her through his kiss alone. It was in the ferocity of his hold and the devouring of his mouth, and she knew without a doubt that if she searched the world over, no man would want her as devotedly as Styx.

  Was it any wonder she loved him with everything in her?

  His hands were all over her even as he urged her down onto the boat’s gleaming white floor. The moment her back touched the hard surface, she flinched, her new tattoo still sensitive beneath the veil of her clothing.

  Obviously he felt it, and without fanfare he changed places with her. In a handful of seconds, she found herself straddling him while he rested back on the floor, his heated gaze devouring her. The ache of need worsened under that hungry stare, to the point where she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. There was nothing sexier in the world than having him look at her so covetously. Nothing.

  “You're going to ride me, Syd.” He undid her shorts, then helped her slide them off along with her panties. “Ride me like you’re trying to fuck me to death. Let me see how wild you can be.”

  “I can do that.” Better yet, it was suddenly all she wanted to do.

  Her disturbed breathing seemed loud in her ears, as did the soft splash of the water against the boat as she helped him shove his clothes aside. She now knew every part of him as intimately as she knew herself, but that didn't matter. Unveiling his rugged, muscle-sculpted body with its colorful inked flesh never failed to stagger her senses. He was gorgeous, her personal god, and she couldn't help but count herself as the luckiest woman in the world to have her dream man beneath her hands.

  “Watch, Syd.” His voice was like rough velvet as he positioned her above his hardened cock, his fingers biting into her bare hips. “Watch me become a part of you. It's so much more than mere fucking. It's me fitting into you and making us so whole we should never be separated.”

  “Yes, baby.” His words alone were enough to bring her to the edge of orgasm, and her intimate folds were achy and swollen with desire. When she felt him at her threshold, she couldn't stop from moaning out loud. “I can't tell you how much I was hoping this would be a part of what it meant to go fishing with you.”

  “I won't stop until I get you hooked on me.” Slowly he allowed her to lower onto his beautiful, rock-hard dick. “Watch.”

  Without another word she did so, leaning her hands on his powerful shoulders and letting her hair fall in a curtain around him as she looked down. His cock, rigidly thick and darkened by blood, was a heart-stopping sight between her legs, and in that moment she knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

  With that knowledge—that he belonged to her body just as surely as her body belonged to him—she rolled her hips and took him into her depths in one smooth glide.

  Ah, yes.

  Perfect.

  “I've been looking forward to fucking you like this since forever.” The words came out of him on a deep groan, and she reveled in every syllable. “Just you, me, the sun and the water. Goddamn, you make all my dreams come true.”

  “You fit me so well.” Her eyes almost closed as she concentrated on how good he felt—how his shaft stretched her inner walls and filled her until she thought she would burst. “I love the feel of your cock inside me.”

  “Thank Christ.” A rough chuckle rocked out of him even as he bent his legs behind her at the knees and began to pump into her. “Ride me, Syd. Ride my cock until you fucking scream.”

  “Yes.” She was already ahead of him on that score. With her hands still braced against him, she focused all her energy on undulating her hips and taking him in as deeply as she could. How she adored the slick, hot glide of his shaft, so much so she matched his rhythm, blindly searching for that sweet spot that turned her into a screeching, writhing lunatic.

  One of his hands left her hip to explore her cleft, and the anticipation made her breath catch audibly. “Styx…” She thought it was only fair to warn him that he was playing with fire.

  “Come for me, baby,” he grated, not slowing his roll in the least. When he found the nub of her clitoris, his smile became a fierce bearing of teeth. “Go fucking wild. I love it when you lose your mind.”

  She loved it, too. God, how she loved it.

  He stroked her clit without mercy, while at the same time surged up into her until he was all she could feel. The pleasure filled her fast and hard, like an overblown balloon. When it burst, she did exactly what he said he wanted her to do. She screamed, her hair flinging back as she cried her bliss up to the bluer-than-blue sky. Waves of rapture buffeted her, and it never fully ran its course before she realized in a dazed sort of way that the sweet tension was already building up inside. Every muscle in her body clenched, an automatic bracing for the inevitable explosion. Then it was there, again, so intense she nearly missed that this time he was right there with her, his long groans of completion mingling with hers.

  When the last echoes of their shared climax finally played itself out, Sydney collapsed onto his heaving chest, her breath coming just as fast as his. The gentle rocking of the boat relaxed her, as did the never-ending calls of the gulls above. The breeze was surprisingly cool off the water, but not so cold that she felt compelled to cover up. Instead, she closed her eyes and was j
ust about to drift off when his hands lifted to skim over her back, still covered by her shirt, down to her bare booty.

  “We’d better get some sunscreen on this fine ass of yours. I’ve decided that while we’re out here, you’re going to spend more time out of your clothes than in them. I can’t fuck you properly if you’ve got a burned-up, lobster-red ass.”

  God, how was it possible for her to be turned on all over again? How? “I’ll need some help in applying it. I wouldn’t want to miss a spot.”

  He squeezed her butt again, before following it up with a caress that did all sorts of crazy things to her pulse. “You can count on me, Fun-Size. To keep you protected, and to make sure I never miss your spot.”

  When she got his meaning, she burst out laughing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I never knew fishing could be so exhausting,” Sydney mumbled through a yawn. Forcing her feet to move, she headed up a neat walkway with Styx by her side, her sleepy eyes on a small, WWII-era Craftsman-style bungalow that looked almost identical to the houses crammed in on either side of it. “Do me a favor and promise to kick me if you see me nodding off.”

  “It wasn’t the fishing that did you in.” Looking downright pleased with himself, Styx nevertheless kept his head on a swivel as he ushered her up the porch steps. It was clear he wasn’t relaxing his guard in the least as he wasted no time in hitting the doorbell. “It was all me. You’re going to sleep like a baby tonight.”

  “And you’re going to be impossibly smug all evening, I can tell.” Which was fine with her. After all, when a woman lost count of how many orgasms she had in a single day, a man could be forgiven for showing some swagger.

  “If I make my woman happy, I’ve earned the right to be smug. And we got some fish out of it, too. Some bass and steelhead, though that isn’t exactly what I’d call a great haul, but I’m not complaining. That was one helluva good time out on the lake today, and I’m hoping we can do it again. The harbor closes mid-November, so maybe you and I can get out on the lake one more time before it’s time to get the boat into dry-dock for the winter.”

 

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