Love Overboard

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

He was coming towards her with hunger in his eyes, and when he circled her waist with his arms she felt a weight in the pit of her stomach start to throb. His lips brushed the top of her ear and then settled in the nape of her neck. Her breathing ran hot and his was laced with low moans. She threw her head back as his teeth grazed her collarbone and his fingers slipped the strap of her dress off her shoulder. Suddenly she was naked, the light fabric pooling at her feet, her nipples dark and hard. He stood back and admired the sweeps of her body, the swell of her breasts, the arch of her back, the curve of her belly. She stepped forward and gazed at him, swimming in the pools of green as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans. Now they were both panting skin, leaving trails of goose bumps wherever they touched.

When she begged him to kiss her, he obliged, and the taste of him made her gasp. She was ravenous now and her hands could not hold enough of him. Nails leaving tracks across his broad shoulders. Fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, trying to get more of him, trying to get closer. Their tongues fighting for space, jousting, and she was burning now. Between her legs, the slickness of anticipation was taking over, the need to be entered was all she could think about.

He lowered himself to his knees, and she whimpered as he parted her legs, hoisting one over his shoulder. She felt his stubble brush against her inner thigh, and she held her breath. His lips, his tongue teasing her, dancing around, making her brain fuzz. When his mouth finally found her, she sighed with pleasure, but also relief. His hands were grasping at her arse, pulling her onto his face, burying himself in her. The metronome of her desire began to quicken. With each pass and flicker of his tongue, she felt her insides tense, in expectation of the release. She was moaning loudly now, glancing down to see the mop of dark brown waves, bobbing in time with her. She knew she was close. The summit was in sight, and as he slid his fingers inside her, she readied herself for the plummet.

A loud knock on the door jolted Sofia awake.

‘Sofia, it’s 7.30, honey, breakfast needs to be on the table in T-minus...’ a pause ‘...twenty-nine minutes.’

‘Right, thanks, Petra – alarm malfunction!’ she replied breathlessly, although she could already hear the footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Sofia collapsed back into her pillow, staring at the bottom of the bunk above her. Tentatively she reached down into her pyjama shorts, the rude awakening bringing her senses into a sharp focus. She was definitely wet. She giggled to herself; she hadn’t had a sex dream since she was a teenager. She considered finishing the job herself. She closed her eyes and tried to find herself back where she had left off. It was only in that moment, when her brain relocated itself, and she peered down once more, that it hit her.

The face staring up at her had been Jack’s.

Sofia quickly threw back her covers, sitting up in bed and staring at the door. She felt flustered, in a panicky sort of way, and resolved to get on with her day and not overthink things. Even as she was giving herself a talking-to she knew it was pointless. Her anxious brain was already whirring, flip-flopping between worst-case scenarios and a more reassuring refrain that ‘sex dreams don’t mean anything’. She’d had one about her history teacher, Mrs Hilder, when she was thirteen and she wasn’t even attracted to women, let alone grey-haired ones.

It must just be her subconscious working through the conversation with Petra. That was the party line and she was sticking with it.

At breakfast with the crew, Sofia found herself trying not to stare at Jack. There was no getting around the fact that he was handsome. The colours of his face were perfectly complementary, like someone had carefully selected each tone to go with the rest. The pale sage of his eyes, the rich chocolate of his hair, streaked with strands that looked either blue black or coppery depending on the light. His complexion, a testament to good genes and sunshine, tanned and smooth, save for the shadow of dark stubble curving around his blush-coloured lips. The colour scheme might work quite well in a luxury country club, Sofia thought. He could hardly look more like money.

Her toast was unpleasantly cold and brittle by the time she took a bite. She had to get a grip. There were so many reasons why it would not be a good thing for her to fancy Jack. There wasn’t even one that she could think of on the ‘pros’ side of things.

Apart, of course, from the thrill she got when she allowed her mind to wander back to the night before, his hands gripping her waist, the graze of his stubble on her thigh, the sound of him moaning against her...

‘Did you want to come on the hike around Vivara then, Sofia?’ It was Declan’s voice, wrenching her out of her daydream.

‘Huh?’ She had not been listening.

‘Well Brian and Milly are going to Isola di Vivara, today. It’s a national park and they want to hike around it. I really want to go and so does Petra. Patricio used to go there as a kid sometimes so he’s keen to see it again, but there isn’t really enough room for all of us to go...’ Declan trailed off. He looked sheepish.

‘To be honest, I’m kind of exhausted so I’m happy to stay on board. You guys go and enjoy yourselves.’ Declan looked at Patricio and the pair of them grinned at each other. ‘I can make some food for the trip, and you guys can actually remember to bring it.’ She glanced over at Jack and was quietly pleased to see him chuckle.

‘Cool. Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Sofia.’ The joke seemed to have gone over Declan’s head. He began to excitedly plan the itinerary for the day with Patricio and a few helpful interjections from Petra. The heartbreak was a distant memory, thought Sofia. It seemed everyone apart from her was more than capable of casting off romantic rejection – maybe it was something about the transitory life of a yachtie, or maybe Declan and Petra were just far more well-adjusted.

While the others got the tender ready, Sofia served the guests breakfast and prepared everyone’s picnic lunch. There was a buzz of excitement on board as preparations were made. Sofia waved them off, alongside Stuart and the captain, who were also staying behind.

‘Didn’t fancy a hike then?’ she asked Stuart as they stood waving at the retreating dinghy.

‘With my asthma and beer belly? You’ve got to be kidding.’

Sofia giggled, already mapping out the day ahead.