Love Overboard

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning, Sofia was surprised to see that Jack was still fast asleep when she came down from her bunk. He looked peaceful, his eyelashes casting long shadows down his cheeks in the low light.

She got dressed in the bathroom again. She didn’t want him to wake up to her naked – and now softly peeling – body. The burn had started to itch. She spent the morning in the kitchen, rubbing her lower back against the counter occasionally when her hands were full, like a cartoon bear.

Petra came in looking a little worse for wear. ‘I was up until three with Stuart and his whisky in the captain’s quarters,’ she explained. At the look on Sofia’s face, she clarified. ‘Oh not like that! Just chatting. Did you know his dad was a marine biologist? Spent years out at sea looking for whales to tag.’ She sounded genuinely fascinated.

‘Random,’ said Sofia, only half listening and slicing up a grapefruit, the smell transporting her back to the afternoon in the citrus grove and bringing a smile to her face.

‘And after spending his whole childhood resenting his father for being away, here he is doing the same thing,’ Petra continued.

‘Men and their fathers, eh.’

Petra latched on to her throwaway comment straight away. ‘So Jack’s been telling you all about his daddy issues then?’ There was that tone again, the one that wasn’t really asking about the conversations she was having with Jack.

‘It’s not like that!’ Sofia parroted, noting with a tang of something like jealousy that Jack must have opened up to Petra as well.

‘If you say so, Sofia,’ Petra chimed with a devilish twinkle in her eyes. ‘But I have found myself wondering how that whole bunk-sharing situation is playing out.’

‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, Petra, but it’s mainly stilted pleasantries and sleeping.’ Sofia kept her eyes fixed on the knife in her hand, fearful that Petra might pick up on something in her expression. It was ridiculous really; she was telling the truth, mostly.

‘Hmmm, how boring.’

Sofia could feel Petra’s gaze burning into the back of her head. For a moment the only sound was that of blade on chopping board.

‘I better get on.’ Sofia threw Petra what she hoped was an easy smile, which seemed to do the trick of bringing the interrogation to an end.

‘OK, I’ll leave you to it.’ But Petra didn’t leave immediately; instead she examined Sofia’s face suspiciously. Eventually she broke into a grin, deciding to bide her time. ‘See you at dinner then!’

Sofia responded with a half-hearted ‘see you’ as the door swung shut. It was never a good sign when she felt like she was hiding things from a friend, but then again Jack was her friend now too, and there was something to be said for roommate confidentiality.

Another day passed, another three meals and a crew meeting over dinner about the plan for Gaeta. They would dock, sort the mould, get more supplies, and there was the chance of another night out, as Brian and Milly were once again spending the night on land. Sofia dreaded the thought – she had barely recovered from their last excursion.

She hadn’t seen Jack all day, and when he walked in and sat down, Sofia was aware that he was looking everywhere apart from at her. She felt dismayed. Hadn’t they made some real progress last night? Maybe it had just been the whisky talking.

By the time she’d finished eating, the itching on her back had become almost unbearable, and she could think of nothing else. She excused herself and half walked, half ran back to the cabin, bending her arm at awkward angles to try and get a good scratch.

When she peeled off her T-shirt in the bathroom, the redness had flared into an angry foam of peeling skin. She was peering over her shoulder, tentatively picking at it, when Jack opened the door.

‘Excuse me!’ she protested.

He quickly shut it again. ‘Damn, sorry! I didn’t realise you were in there,’ he said from the other side of the laminated wood. There was a pause, but Sofia didn’t hear retreating footsteps.

‘That burn looks pretty bad,’ he said softly through the door.

‘It’s fine, I just need to moisturise it.’ She wasn’t convincing even herself.

‘I have some aloe vera somewhere – I think that’d help. What kind of chef doesn’t come prepared for burns?’ He was teasing, but there was fondness to his tone.

She looked at the patch of skin. ‘He’s the first-aider on board, Sofia. Why must you always make life more difficult for yourself?’ she muttered sternly at her reflection.

‘What was that?’ he called.

‘Nothing!’ She pulled her T-shirt back on and opened the door. She was face to face with Jack, barely a breath between them in the tiny room. He stepped back awkwardly and they both made a point of looking in different directions. ‘Aloe vera sounds great, thanks,’ she said quickly.

‘Sure yep, I’ll grab it,’ he said equally quickly before dropping to his knees to pull his suitcase from underneath the bunk. The cabin was so small there was barely enough room for them both to stand, let alone rummage through a bag. She sat down on his bunk gingerly, as he looked for the bottle.

‘Here we go.’ He stood up holding the green bottle triumphantly up in the air. He looked down at her, motioning for her to move over with a jerk of his head. She did as she was told.

He sat down next to her and angled her shoulder away from him so she was facing the wall and he was behind her.

‘Do you mind?’ It was almost a whisper.

His hands were gentle, his palms laying warm and heavy on her shoulder, and so she said ‘not at all’ before she had a chance to register how heavy the air had suddenly got. He lifted her top away from her back and she felt her body tense at the anticipation of his touch. The gel was cool and soothing. She let out an involuntary sigh at the relief. His hand stilled, fingertips grazing her waist tenderly, and she could hear his breath in her ears, ragged.

She was not really surprised when she felt his lips, soft and parted, against her neck. She was surprised by how easily she melted into him, her head falling to the side to give him better access. He groaned and she knew that there was no turning back. It was a siren call and her body responded eagerly.

She turned to face him, his gaze dragging slowly from where they were trained on her neck until their eyes met. She could see her own want reflected back at her in those pools of clouded green. He slowly, deliberately raised his palm to her cheek, their breathing matching pace. His fingers curled around the back of her head, thumb stroking jaw. The seconds seemed to crawl. His mouth felt agonisingly far. She couldn’t bear it anymore and just as it occurred to her that this was definitely a bad idea, they crashed into each other, the tension between them suddenly igniting.

He tasted divine. She could not get enough of him in her mouth. She was grabbing him, his shoulders, his hair, and she could hear herself, panting like an animal. She was not quite able to orientate herself, but she noted that there was movement and then she was on her back, pulling the weight of him on top of her.

He pulled away suddenly, hovering over her, his brow furrowed. ‘Sofia, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help...’ His voice trailed off as she reached up and guided his face back to hers. She heard a whimper as their lips met again, then realised it was from her.

‘I want this,’ she breathed into his ear, and he moaned into her neck. Her mind was fuzzing, drifting in and out of sensations all over her body. His tongue hot on her neck, his hands grasping at her hips, his pressing hardness against her. She was aware of the twinge in the pit of her stomach, telling her she was hungry, that she was ready, that she wanted to be full. We are wearing too many clothes, she thought, with a flash of urgent clarity. She pulled at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, and he pulled himself away, kneeling over her. He smiled softly as he tossed his shirt to the side and pulled hers over her head, laying a soft kiss on her shoulder. He left goose bumps and a pang of something else, the tenderness knocking the breath out of her momentarily.

She was up on her elbows admiring him, more freely than she already had, allowing her eyes to linger on the lines of his shoulders, the ridges of his toned stomach, and then dropping to the bulge of his trousers, the twinge turning to something more like a throbbing. When she looked back up at him, he smiled again, but there was something more carnal in it this time. He deftly snaked his hand around her back and unclasped her bra. Firmly he pushed her shoulder back down into the mattress and slipped the straps down her arms, the black lace going the same way as his shirt.

He sighed in appreciation, casting his eyes over her as she had, and then his hands followed. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumb brushed over her nipples, and he bit his lip as he watched her respond to his touch.

‘You really are something else,’ he breathed, lowering himself down to take the hard tip he had summoned with his hand into his mouth. She could only moan in response, pleasure washing over her. She didn’t think she had ever had her body react this way to somebody before; she felt as if he was all over her, smothered in him.

When he began trailing kisses down her stomach, she was worried she might forget how to breathe. He let out a soft sigh of appreciation as he slid her pyjama shorts down her legs to find she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, then glanced up at her, a question marred with want in his eyes. She nodded, a silent pact of desire.

He took his time, caressing the inside of her thighs, placing soft kisses everywhere apart from where the aching was: her belly button, her pelvic bones, the crease at the top of her leg. She arched her back, partly in protest, partly in desperation. Finally, his tongue found her and she gasped. He groaned into her, the vibrations concentrating all her focus to the point of her, his teeth gently enclosing and tugging, his tongue dancing until her vision began to blur. She could hear her heart in her ears, faster and faster as he tapped into the rhythm of her quickening breaths. Momentarily she was aware of his hands creeping up to her breasts, and the feel of her fingernails clawing at the back of his head, and then she was falling into the darkness in the back of her eyelids. The room went silent as she reached the very lightest ends of herself and then collapsed into the warmest depths.

Slowly she floated back to the surface, opening her eyes. She was surprised by how light the room was. He was grinning at her when she could finally focus on his face again. Her breathing still felt laboured. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ Sofia still wasn’t in possession of all of her faculties, so she nodded lazily. She pulled him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his mouth. She was still feeling hungry.

She pushed him back and he looked confused. She found herself relishing her power takeover as she looked him dead in the eye and said evenly, ‘It’s my turn now.’

He looked a little taken aback, and then his eyes twinkled devilishly. ‘You’re the boss, Harlow.’

She rolled on top of him and began to unbuckle his belt. His eyes were trained on her hands as she pulled down his boxers and took him in her palm. He was rock hard and heavy. He threw his head back as she stroked him, slowly. She was in charge now. When he looked up at her, she thought she might come again just from the want in his eyes.

‘Ride me,’ he said. It was meant to be an order, but it sounded more like a plea. She smiled coyly as she ignored him and continued her work, keeping her pace torturously steady. He let out a low moan, and she could feel it reverberating through her, setting off something primal, which shattered her momentary composure. She needed him inside her. When she lowered herself onto his stiffness, she was submerged once more. The thrumming of her desire overriding her senses until it was just him, the sound of him, the smell of him, the feel of him sliding in and out of her.

The crescendo started again as he grabbed her arse, thrusting up into her, hard. The build was relentless. Each second she came closer to the release without reaching it, she worried she couldn’t handle any more. And then, the walls of her mind came crashing down again and she was sure she wasn’t alone in the ecstatic darkness. She forced herself to open her eyes and caught him, eyes shut, brow furrowed in euphoria, his lips parted in a silent prayer. He looked beautiful, she thought.