Chapter 16 #2
We sit on the bench seat of the top deck of the boat with our plates in our hands and glasses of sweat tea in the cup holders beside us. She moves to sit beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch.
“You really did all of it,” she says after a bite of the chicken pie.
I know what she’s talking about. “Not all of it.”
“Close enough.”
After dinner, we clean up together and go back up top to watch the sun drop lower, the sky morphing through colors that don’t feel real until you’re sitting in the middle of them.
She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder and I don’t say a word. I just let it happen as we stare at the sky.
“Out here on the water the sun looks close enough to touch.”
I stretch out my hand and pretend to pick it. “If I could, I would pluck it from the sky and give it to you.”
“So romantic.”
I sigh. I just gave myself away. I think I read that direct quote in the last Lizabeth Scott book. “About that. You probably need to know that I have a secret addiction to romance books.”
Her head pops off my shoulder. “You do? I think that’s brave and amazing. I love them too.”
Whew. That turned out better than I imagined.
We swap favorite everythings and discover we enjoy the same authors. I will never, however, get behind her mafia romance genre.
It isn’t that late, maybe eight when I get out my laptop, pull down the screen, and turn on a movie.
She laughs as the credits come on. “I can’t believe you remembered. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.”
“I remember everything.”
That look crosses her face. The one that tells me she’s feeling something real but hasn’t quite figured it out yet.
We watch the movie under the stars, the screen glowing just enough to see by, the rest of the world fading into the background. At some point, her head comes to rest against my shoulder. At some point, my arm comes around her without thinking.
And at some point, the movie stops mattering. She tilts her head up. I don’t move away. I give her time to decide. She closes the space between us herself. Our lips meet slowly.
This kiss is nothing like the others we’ve shared. This one is purposeful, careful, not rushed and a thousand percent genuine.
Her hand slides up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt as she pulls closer, and I let her, my hand moving to her waist, holding her there.
The kiss deepens. Our tongues caressing, exploring, devouring. We aren’t questioning it anymore. This is happening and we are both on board.
Her breath ghosts against my mouth, uneven now, and I pull back just enough to see her. Her lips stay parted. Eyes dark. Focused on me like nothing else exists. “Naudi,” I have to ask. “You sure?”
She doesn’t rush to answer, but she doesn’t look away either. Her hand raises slowly, settling against my jaw, holding me there as I stare into her chocolate eyes.
“Today was perfect,” she says, softly but certain. “Tonight was perfect.” Her thumb traces my lower lip, slow, deliberate. “Being with you, here, now, would make it even better.”
That’s all I need to hear. My mouth comes back to hers, more insistent this time, and she meets me just as hard. No holding back now. Her fingers fist my shirt, pulling me closer, and I let her, my hand sliding up her back, pressing her against me until there isn’t a breath of space left.
She arches into me and that alone nearly unravels me.
I force myself to slow down, to stay in control, even when everything in me clamors for more.
My mouth moves from hers, tracing along her jaw, down her neck, taking my time, learning every reaction she gives me.
Her head tips back, giving me access, trusting me without question.
Her breath stutters. Soft sounds slipping past her lips go straight through me, making my cock strain at the zipper.
I shift position, easing her back carefully, my hand steady at her waist as I guide her beneath me. Her body moves with mine, no resistance, no doubt, just heat and want and something deeper building between us.
My hand slides along her side, over her hip and drawing her closer, holding her there while my mouth finds hers again. Slower now. Every movement measured, every reaction answered.
She meets me in the moment. Matches me. Her fingers move from my shirt to my shoulders, then higher, threading into my hair, holding me to her, but I don’t want to go anywhere.
I lift my head, just for a second to check in, needing to see her again, needing to be sure.
Her eyes open slowly and lock on to mine. There’s no fear in their depths, no hesitation. Just certainty and desire.
Her dress melts away, and I pull my shirt over my head and ditch my pants. I take her mouth again with no restraint left, no pretending this was anything other than what it is. Real. Chosen. Ours.
I dig through my pants pocket, find my wallet, and pull out a condom before tossing the wallet to the deck. It can go overboard for all I care.
She answers me instantly with no hesitation.
Her body moves with mine, rising into me, hand gripping tight, pulling me closer like she needs to be sure I’m real.
I give her everything she asks for, deepening the kiss, letting our bodies connect, letting it take over until nothing else exists but the two of us beneath the stars together.
Her name slips from me, low and rough, and the sound of it seems to undo her completely. I slow just enough to give her room, to make sure she stays with me in it, every step, every touch.
Naudi doesn’t hold anything back. Her breath comes faster now, uneven, and she pulls me down again, claiming my mouth. That settles me while also making me wild for more.
I shift, drawing her closer. I have no desire to rush this. I want us both to savor every second of this perfect time. Our first time together.
Her head tips back and I follow the movement without thinking, my mouth tracing a path that makes her grip sharpen and her breath break again.
“Yes,” she murmurs.
That sound will stay with me always. Every reaction, every movement—I pay attention to all of it.
Time slips away, the world narrows, the soft sway of the boat and gentle waves brushing the hull of the boat are the sounds of the night surrounding us.
She finds her release first, and I follow shortly behind. I rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing a little harder than before, neither one of us pulling away.
Naudi appears to have no intention of letting go. I brush my thumb along her side and ask, “You all right?”
Her eyes open and she gazes up at me. I have my answer.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “More than all right.”
That brings a smile to my face, and I ease up to separate us. I don’t want to leave her, but I have her comfort foremost in mind. “I’ll be right back.”
I go down to the tiny bathroom in the berth and take care of the condom and bring a wet towel back to take care of her. After I help her into her dress and pull my own clothes on, we settle back onto the bench, the movie long past ended.
She rests against me, her head on my shoulder. A minute passes before she lets out a soft breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
“Well,” she says, her voice lighter now. “That was certainly not fake.”
I huff out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”
She tips her head just enough to look up at me. “No romance author in the world could have written that scene better.”
“I know what would take it over the top. Maybe shoot it straight to bestseller.”
She chuckles, “Oh yeah, what could possibly make this evening better?”
I roll over until I’m looking into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I love you, Naudi.”
Her lips pull up into smile so big I swear it lights the night around us. “I love you, Walker.”
I grin and kiss her forehead and roll back over as she snuggles into my side. We stay there a while longer, letting the quiet surround us, letting everything that just happened find its place without forcing it into words.
Eventually, I stir, knowing we can’t stay here forever. “We should head back before it gets too late.”
She murmurs agreement but doesn’t move right away. I don’t think either one of us wants to leave this place.
When we finally pull away from the cove, the water is smooth, and the night stretches wide around us. She stays close the whole ride back to the marina, her hand resting lightly against mine.
We reach the dock, and I help her off the boat, keeping my hand at her waist for a second longer than necessary.
“Thank you, Walker. That was the perfect second date.”
She looks at me appraisingly, something thoughtful in her eyes. “How about I cook for you tomorrow. Come to my place?”
I feel my smile grow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I lean in just enough to press my lips to hers. “I would love that.”
Her lips curve. “Butter chicken?” she asks.
“I love butter chicken!”
She laughs, warm and genuine, with nothing complicating it. No pretending or pressure. Just us.
And whatever comes next.