by Becca Barnes
“Please don’t let him be wearing a banana hammock. Please don’t let him be wearing a banana hammock,” I whispered as I slipped out of the room.
Mac was already waiting for me on the aft deck. Staring out at the ocean, he didn’t seem to hear me sneak up behind him until I laced my fingers through his. No spandex was harmed in the making of his swimsuit, I noted with relief. But the board shorts he wore rode so low on his hips that I had to fan my face.
“You ready?” he asked. He picked up a life jacket at his feet and gave it to me.
“I don’t need a life jacket.”
“I’d feel better if you did. I’m going to wear one. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and you never know about rip currents.”
“Good point,” I conceded, and I thought about what he’d said about how much he loved trouble-shooting at his job. He’d probably thought of every possible predator or danger, from jellyfish to red tide, that could possibly befall us in this short swim to shore.
I’d fought some drowsiness earlier. Between the rocking boat and my lack of sleep from last night, it was a wonder I’d been able to keep my eyes open.
The clear, turquoise seawater of the Gulf revived me as I plunged under the surface. It wasn’t bathwater warm yet, like it would be once hurricane season hit full force.
We raced to the beach. I was a fast swimmer. Mac was faster.
The catering company had indeed provided everything. Soft, fluffy towels awaited us on lounge chairs padded with smooshy cushions. Robes and flip-flops were laid out next to the towels. I caught a glance of a pair of hammocks peeking out from behind the shade of the tent.
Well, I wasn’t hating this. It was Extreme Glamping 101.
My stomach let out a low rumble. We’d devoured a quick sandwich for early lunch on the way to the oil rig, but I was starving now.
“You ready to eat?” asked Mac politely, although surely he’d heard my grumbling tummy as well. He led me over to a table set for two with fine china and real silver. He popped open one of three huge, thousand-dollar Yeti coolers and began pulling out various dishes that smelled heavenly.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for so I had them make a little bit of everything.”
“This is insane,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Mac popped his head up out of one of the coolers that seemed to contain an entire pastry shop, save the baker.
“This is...wow.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Mac waggled his eyebrows, and my heart gave one final clench before handing over its last defense.
So much for that fling.
Twenty-Seven
Mac
In hindsight, the bed was overkill.
Not quite a creeper move. It wasn’t like we hadn’t been as flirtatious as humanly possible with each other so far. Not to mention the magnetic pull I felt every time I was near her...or simply thinking about her.
And I hadn’t been kidding when I told the event company to prepare us for every eventuality. There was a brand new luxury port-a-potty hidden a quarter mile down the beach. A portable shower with a solar water heater in case Ellie didn’t like the feel of dried salt water on her skin. Personally, I was in favor of the licking-it-off plan. But I wouldn’t kick a shower with her off the agenda either.
However, it had been a waste of the event company’s energy to bother shuttling the king-sized mattress, plumped with premium Austrian down feathers, all the way out here to the middle of nowhere. I had grown so hard as I watched Ellie tease her tongue around the cream in a pastry puff that I was ready to toss her into the sand then and there and show her a few other uses for a talented tongue. And from the way her foot kept crept up my shin and thigh, we’d be lucky if we made it over to the lounge chairs, much less the bed.
The slow burn of watching her eat--seeing the wonder and delight in her eyes and the pleasure spread over her face as she sampled bite after delectable bite of food prepared by chefs flown in from all over the country that morning--was like an unbearably hot brand against the inside of my chest.
Yes, I had gone the overkill route on multiple fronts this day. But it was the first chance I’d gotten to truly treat her the way she deserved.
I hated to slap the label, “perfect,” on anyone, but Ellie came as damn near close to it as any woman I’d ever met. My inner pendulum swung between thankfulness that no charming local guy had already snatched her up, and fury that she hadn’t been treated like a princess every damn day of her existence.
Taco trucks and futons? It was like shoving a Grand Prix winner into a 1974 Ford Pinto.
Not that those hadn’t been dang good tacos.
“This has been amazing,” she said, gesturing to the diminishing spread of food.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Not just lunch. The paintball and the boating and the…everything.” She let out a sigh, and I placed my hand over hers. “It’s all been perfect. I feel like I’m floating in some kind of bubble, waiting for it to burst.”
“Well, if you’re in a bubble, then I’m right inside there with you. But what if”--I gulped and gave her hand a squeeze, surprised by the words that were about to come out of my mouth—”what if it didn’t have to pop?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—” What did I mean? An unexplainable hint of fear had cropped up within me the last few days but it had grown into a blistering certainty. I wanted Ellie. Not just physically. And not just today. I wanted her. Not on a temporary mattress on the beach. I wanted her in my life.
“Ellie, I haven’t felt this way about someone else...ever. Honestly, that’s kind of scary for me. And I don’t know what this would look like between us going forward. I work long hours, and I work them all over the world. But I do know that I want there to be an ‘us.’ I want to figure out how we can make this work, if it’s long distance or...whatever it looks like.”
“I’d like that, too.” An easy smile graced her lips, and a heavy weight that had been unknowingly pressing down on me for days fell away.
I led her over to the lounge chairs. The urgency I’d felt only moments earlier had died down to a dull ache. I’d planned to devour her in one gulp, and now I enjoyed the prospect of slowly savoring every bite.
I expected Ellie to take the seat next to mine, but instead she pushed me back into the plush pillows as she leaned forward and straddled my lap.
“I have really”--her teeth grazed my jawline—”really”--and my neck—”really”—and Lord, have mercy, my Adam’s apple—“wanted to do this all day.”
“I am happy to say that no one is stopping you,” I murmured in her ear before snatching her mouth into a kiss.
Her fingertips trailed down my chest and along the waist of my swim shorts, then with a sharp tug, she loosened the drawstring and let her hand slide down my treasure trail as she dipped her head to plant a row of soft kisses across my collar bone. The combination of gentle and brazen left my entire body in a state of flames.
I let out a gasp and forced my breathing into slow, steady inhalations as she continued her trek of exploration.
In this current state of mind and arousal, I wouldn’t last five minutes. And I intended to last a damn sight longer than five minutes.
I teased my thumb over her nipple—the warm, pink flesh just visible through her bikini top. She let out a low sound of approval, somewhere between a purr and a hum. It was enough to get her lips to drift away from my shoulder even if her hands were still busy playing hide and seek. She drew a single fingernail along my ridge, and any attempt to control my breathing flew out over the ocean.
Well, two could play at that game.
With two flicks of my wrist, I had her top off, exposing her two perfect breasts to the warm sea breeze...and to my tongue. Her back arched, and she twisted with a moan, pressing her lower body into mine. The pressure felt good, but it also steadied me. I clutched her tight against me as I lifted her up, frustrated with t
he confines of the chair.
Maybe the bed hadn’t been such a bad notion after all.
“Are you sure?” I whispered. Followed closely in my mind with, please be sure. Please be sure.
She let out a laugh and crushed her mouth against mine, nodding. There was nothing tame or tempered about this kiss. Our teeth and tongues tangled together, each begging for the same thing. I wanted more and more of her, deeper and deeper. She answered my every move with an equal fervor.
“I’ve wanted this since the moment we crashed into each other,” I murmured. And thank God we had. I hadn’t wanted a relationship. Certainly hadn’t planned it, but this was an attraction beyond any I’d experienced. I could no more cut Ellie Cooper out of my life than chop off my own arm.
I carried her to the bed and laid her down as gently as I could manage. Which was saying something as there was a rather large part of me that wanted to beat my bare chest with my fist and yell, “Me, Tarzan!”
But Ellie wasn’t having gentle.
There was nothing tame or subtle about the way she clawed her fingers through my hair. She yanked me down next to her.
I let out a low, guttural growl. Like a feral animal. I couldn’t help it.
I’d never felt this way before. For such a small thing, there was altogether too much of Ellie. I wanted--no, needed--to touch every part of her at once and have every part of her touch me and...and….
“Please,” she whimpered, and there was so much in that lone word.
We each grappled with whatever scant shreds of clothing that remained. I grabbed protection from the unobtrusive bedside basket overflowing with condoms. There weren’t enough zeroes for the gratuity that event company had earned. I chuckled as I sheathed myself, though, at the number they’d provided. Apparently they either thought quite highly of my abilities or believed I was hosting some sort of billionaire orgy.
I brought my full attention back to Ellie. She raked her nails up and down my arm slowly, her eyes half-closed as she watched me. I couldn’t help but stare at her naked form in wonder. Every curve, every dimple, every tiny scar. There really was truth in the saying, “take my breath away.”
She twisted to the side shyly, apparently aware of my scrutiny, but I stopped her.
“You really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?” I said, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.
She clasped her hands behind my neck and pulled me into her until I gasped at our joining.
Twenty-Eight
Ellie
There was good sex...and then there was toe-curling, profanity-screaming, brain-melting, too-many-times-to-count-coming, hold-on-for-dear-lifing sex.
And then there had been this.
It had been far beyond anything I could have hoped for. It didn’t even seem quite real yet. I was tempted to reach over and pinch the snoring, gorgeous figure next to me.
I tried to sift through the tsunami of sensations and emotions that had swept over me as I curled into Mac’s arms.
It had been amazing. There was no way around that. Just the sheer physical pleasure he’d brought to me. I could still feel the burn of his stubble against my cheek as wave after wave of sensations lapped over my skin. And even now, closing my eyes, I could see the tension in his knuckles as he kept his grip firm on my hips, willing me deeper as I had bucked helplessly against him.
Exquisite torture.
Somewhere along the way, I had melted into a puddle of satisfied cravings.
And yet, there was something else there. A sadness, however minuscule, that we’d never have this first time together again. I knew it was silly. I knew that there would be plenty more times...maybe even later today if I could will my joints to somehow knit themselves back together and function cohesively again.
But this had been so perfect, and what if—?
No. No what ifs. Things were good. Things were great.
True, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was floating in a fragile soap bubble, but Mac was right. If he was in here with me--and I believed him when he said he was--it made that bubble stronger. Less poppable.
Just because this was new and felt fragile didn’t mean there was disaster looming on the horizon.
There was, however, a sunset looming on the horizon. I propped myself up on my elbow. As amazing as this day had been, I had to get up tomorrow to work. We still had a couple hours in the boat before we got back to Lavender.
I nudged Mac.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Mmmph.” He pulled me in more tightly than before, keeping his eyelids squeezed shut.
“I know. I wish we could stay here for hours.” I tugged a sheet around us. Probably fifty-thousand thread count or something ridiculous like that.
He grunted in agreement. Or perhaps in his sleep.
“But,” I said, trying to extricate myself from his arms, “I have to get home before I turn into a pumpkin. And orange isn’t really my color.”
He grimaced for some reason but gradually loosened his hold.
“You’re right,” he said. “Or, and hear me out, we could build a house and just stay here.”
“It’s a national park.”
“Everything has a price.”
“Not everything. I’m afraid we have to share.”
“Dang.” He propped himself up and tucked a stray pillow behind us. “Can we at least stay and enjoy the sunset?”
“Allowed.”
He kissed the top of my head as I snuggled back into the crook of his shoulder. We sat in calm, still silence as the sun loosened its last fiery grip on the horizon.
“Should we start cleaning up?” I pulled myself up to my knees, and he sprawled out next to me.
“Nope. The event company is coming out to pack it all away.”
“It seems such a waste,” I said, staring up at the ceiling fan whirring slowly above them. I could only speculate what was powering it. Solar panels probably.
“A waste?” said Mac. “How so?”
“To have all this set up for me. For just one day.”
“Solution: I’ll have it set up again tomorrow, and we’ll repeat today’s festivities.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. And I promise to not go too over-the-top on a regular basis. But today was more selfishness on my part than anything.”
“How so?” I laughed incredulously.
“No, I’m serious. It’s rare that I get to use my creativity and attention to details on something that I’m actually looking forward to. And I was definitely looking forward to today after the week I had.”
“Oh?” I was struck by how normal the moment felt. Aside from the obvious weirdness of having the conversation on a king-sized bed located in a tent glowing with fairy lights on a secluded stretch of beach in the middle of paradise.
Yet it did feel normal—hanging out, talking about our work weeks. Just being together. I could get used to this. We still had to figure out the whole long distance thing, but plenty of couples overcame that obstacle. Couples who didn’t have private jets at their disposal.
Holy crap. I gave myself a soft pinch on the underside of my arm.
This. Was. Real.
I glanced over at Mac and realized he hadn’t elaborated on why his week had been so rough. Instead, he’d gotten out of bed and busied himself with gathering our scattered swim things.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.” Mac tugged on his shorts and tied them a little more roughly than necessary. Then he paused as he picked up my ruffled bikini. He laid it out gently across the bed in front of me.
“I’m serious,” he said. “We could camp out here. Or get on the boat and just head out to sea. How long before someone would truly notice we were gone? I think we could make a getaway undetected.”
“I have a Great Dane with a seven o’clock appointment tomorrow morning who would beg to differ.”
“Ahh.” He snapped his finger in an aww, shucks move, but there was a sadness in his expression that made me wonder if he was genuinely trying to tempt me with the idea.
“Make you a deal.” I slipped on my bikini. “Let’s get back to the marina. But then I’m all yours until daybreak.”
“So all I need to do is just stop the sun from rising?” He rolled his eyes.
I nodded. That should put a damper in his money can buy anything attitude.
“Or”—he pointed out, kissing me so deeply that my lungs temporarily forgot that air existed—“I could just distract you from the sunrise.”
“Now that,” I said, “is a tempting scenario.
Twenty-Nine
Mac
I steered the boat just far enough offshore that I could really open up her engines. Ellie had showered and changed into one of my old, comfy college tee shirts. She’d laid down in the main cabin and said she was simply going to rest for a few minutes, but she’d been snoring in two minutes.
The image of her there in my bed—cozy and curled up, wearing my clothes, permeating everything with her sweet scent—was almost too much for me. It hit me full force like a mallet to the chest. It was a good feeling. I wanted to filter it into a bottle somehow and stopper it.
But at the same time, I couldn’t help the anxiety that grew more pronounced as we neared our destination. I gripped the wheel harder than necessary and stared out at the open ocean. I’d only been half-joking about running away.
Even if the purchase of S’Paw Box’s name had only a minimum impact on Ellie’s role in it, I was still running headlong into a reckoning. I cursed myself that I hadn’t told her the real reason behind my business here over tacos that first night. I’d been lying to myself since the first moment I met her, that I could keep my business life and my personal life separate.
