Chapter 10
Josephine
“Josephine.”
Yawning, I peek one eye open and cuddle closer between Kylian and Kendrick. I swore I heard my name, but they’re both still asleep.
Kylian doesn’t usually sleep well outside the Nest, but from the way he’s passed out beside me, it’s obvious last night was just as satisfying and exhausting for him as it was for me.
“Josephine.”
It’s louder this time, and it’s accompanied by a hand wrapping around my ankle under the covers.
I sit up like a shot, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I blink into the darkness.
“Shh,” a shadow soothes from the end of the bed. “It’s just me.”
Coming to, I survey the trim waist and make my way to the set of broad shoulders before focusing on the tight-set jaw and onyx eyes locked on me.
“What do you want, Cap?” I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“I want to take you somewhere.” He tugs on both my ankles, pulling me down the bed toward him.
My heart leaps into my throat at the sudden movement. “Stop,” I hiss, kicking out to force him to release me.
“Quiet,” he scolds, looking at the guys on either side of me. “Get up and let me talk to you.”
Wary about what he’s up to, I slither down the middle of the mattress so I don’t disturb Kylian or Kendrick. When I reach the end, I let my feet hang off the edge and pause as a yawn catches me by surprise.
“Josephine,” Decker simpers.
I guess I’m not moving fast enough for him this morning.
With another yawn, I swing my legs, forcing myself to wake up. “I’m tired,” I pout.
Kendrick kept us up way too late, and although I was more than happy to indulge in all the wicked, delicious fun, I assumed I’d get to sleep until a decent hour this morning.
I don’t even remember if I went to the bathroom before I finally passed out.
All I know is that I was sore, sated, stoned, and so damn happy sandwiched between two of the men I love.
Decker bends low, and In the most tender move I’ve ever experienced from this man, he tucks my hair behind my ear, runs his nose along my jaw, and kisses my temple. “Josephine. I—I need you, okay?”
Chest constricting, I sit up straighter and wrap my arms around his neck. “What do you need?”
“I wanted to take you out on the boat before sunrise. I’ll be tied up all day, so this is our only chance, but if you need more sleep, just say so. It’s your choice, Siren.”
His deference warms me. It’s taken a few hard lessons, but I think he finally understands that giving me a choice is truly the way to my heart.
“I’d love to go out on the boat with you.”
He smiles against the sensitive skin of my neck, then his massive, talented quarterback hands cup my ass and lift me up. I hold on tight as he wordlessly carries me from Kendrick’s room.
Even once we’re in the hall, he doesn’t let me go.
I consider sassing him—I’m tired, but that doesn’t mean my legs don’t work.
But then he hoists me a little higher, holds me a little tighter, and hums, low and deep, into my neck, like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
Ugh. My heart.
I like to rile him up. Tease him. Make that damn jaw tic work overtime.
But I love him like this. Sticky-sweet and soft, just for me.
His next words are heavy and set in a deep timbre that wasn’t there a moment ago. “It’s still dark outside. There shouldn’t be any cause for concern… but just in case, I’ll go down first and prep the boat, then you can follow a few minutes later.”
Nodding, I brace myself as he carefully descends the stairs. When we get to the sliding glass door of the upper deck, he finally sets me on my feet. Reluctant to unwind my body from his, I loosen my hold but don’t release him.
Grinning like he’s eating up the way I’m clinging to him like he’s my favorite pillow, he grasps my wrists and tugs until I’m forced to let go.
“You’re underdressed,” he states, his brow furrowed with worry.
“You pulled me out of bed, Cap. Not sure what you were expecting. You’re lucky I love Kendrick’s scent.” I bring the collar of the shirt I slipped on last night to my nose. “Otherwise I’d still be naked.”
His scowl deepens, so I decide against mentioning that I’m wearing Kylian’s boxers.
“Here,” he huffs, yanking his hoodie off. Before I have time to object, he works it over my head. “Count to one hundred, then meet me on the dock,” he orders. Without waiting for a response, he slips out the door and into the cool morning air.
I push my arms into the sleeves, then wrap myself in a hug as I silently count in my head.
Shivering, I pull the cuffs of Decker’s sweatshirt down past my wrists and let the too-long arms flop by my sides. If it’s this cool inside, I can only imagine the chill that will hit me when I step outside.
I slip my feet into a pair of shoes as I watch Decker untie the ropes anchoring the boat to the dock and make his way aboard. Still shivering but warming more by the second, I bring my hands to my face and inhale deeply and shamelessly while I wait.
The hoodie is thick, butter soft and super warm, and suffused with not only notes of amber and sea salt but also the heat of Decker’s body.
Is there anything better than an oversized, preheated hoodie?
The low hum of the pontoon’s engine starting up is just audible through the glass.
I give it another ten seconds before I exit the house and follow after him.
The path that leads from the upper deck to the patio, then from the patio to the beach, is one I’ve taken so many times I can practically do it with my eyes closed.
Which is a good thing, considering it’s pitch-black outside.
Decker has his phone light switched on, and I home in on it like a moth to the flame.
My feet find purchase on the pebbles that make up the shoreline around the lake, and I slow my steps, ready to hit the wooden planks of the landing.
By the time I’m at the end of the dock, he’s offering out a hand to help me climb aboard.
With a grin, I scan the pontoon and tip my chin. “What? No love nest today?”
He closes his eyes, shakes his head, then hits me with a facsimile of his signature scowl.
“Just teasing.” Popping up onto my toes, I peck his lips.
He catches my hip, steadying me but also holding me back.
“Wait until we pull away from the dock,” he murmurs, eyes darting over my shoulder. “They’ve already set up the exterior cameras, but they’re not allowed to capture or use any footage of us on the water.”
Gulping past the worry that’s collected in my throat, I peek over my shoulder.
“We’re okay,” he assures me as he grasps my hand. “I’d rather be too safe than slip up when it comes to you.”
Weaving our fingers together, he guides me toward the captain’s seat. Instead of sitting, he cages me in against the wheel, then reaches for the throttle and navigates the vessel out onto open water as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
“You sure you haven’t changed your mind about boat sex, Cap?”
Decker nips at the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he continues to worship every inch of my skin he can access.
He’s holding me in his lap, with one arm wrapped around my hips like a seat belt, while the other explores my body under his hoodie, playing with my nipples and making me writhe.
His unmistakable erection is pressing into my ass and has been for almost an hour, but he refuses to take things any further.
It’s killing me. Fucking killing me.
Never mind that my pussy still feels like it has its own pulse after last night’s very intense and thorough fucking. A thrill courses through me every time I think about how Kylian let Kendrick get so damn bossy with us both.
Another nip from Decker makes me jolt.
“Boat sex is still a hard no.”
He follows up the bite with a soothing caress of his tongue over the tender flesh.
“But it wouldn’t be right for me to get you all hot and bothered and leave you unsatisfied, now, would it?”
Sucking in a breath, I sit up straighter in his lap.
Is he kidding right now?
“Don’t toy with me, Decker.” I go for annoyed, but the effort is pointless when he’s holding me tightly under the oversized hoodie and brushing his knuckles back and forth over one nipple.
All thoughts flee when his other hand dips low, lower, lower still, into the front of Kylian’s boxers.
“You don’t want me to toy with you?” he whispers in my ear, breath hot and minty, fueling the arousal simmering in my core.
I hold my breath, hoping, wishing, yearning, as his hand continues its journey.
“But what if I want to play?” he asks when his entire hand finally covers my hot, wet, needy cunt.
With a groan, I drop my head back against his shoulder. “Don’t you dare tease me right now, Decker Crusade.”
“Show me what you like,” he replies, grasping my wrist with his other hand and guiding it to my waistband.
I slide my hand lower, until I meet his, and together, we rub my clit, our fingers slipping around each other as they stroke my swollen, slick pleasure point.
“Is this all for me?” he asks, pulling out his hand and inspecting the glistening arousal coating his fingertips.
I dive forward and capture his fingers in my mouth, sucking them clean.
“Fuck,” he murmurs as he paints my tongue with my cum. He presses his fingers in and out of my mouth as my hips buck back and forth in his lap in time with his movements.
“I want you to come right here in my lap, Siren. Think you can do that for me?”
“I need—” I start, but he growls in my ear and dives right back into the boxers, like he knows exactly what I need and can’t wait to give it to me.
I’m putty in his hands as he gently moves my fingers back to my tight bundle of nerves.
“Like this?” he confirms as he rubs me just the way I like.
Electricity zaps through me, lighting me up. “Fuck. Yes. Decker.”
“Can I fuck you with my fingers?” he pants into my ear.
“Please,” I practically beg.
The moment the word is out of my mouth, his thumb connects with my clit, and a steady pressure rises inside me as he slips two fingers into my pussy.
“Siren,” he murmurs, the word husky and reverent. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. So warm and wet and perfect.”
He massages my tense inner walls, fucking up and hitting the perfect spot every time. With his thumb, he caresses up and over the hood of my clit, only occasionally pressing right where I want him.
He’s doing it on purpose. It’s the tension I crave: the back and forth I’ve come to expect from this man.
He plays me like an instrument, his fingers inspiring a sultry, slow, aching buildup as I writhe in his lap.
“That’s it, baby. The fire between us burns so fucking hot. But I can make you feel good, too. I want to make you feel good forever.”
I’ve never come at the hands of this man.
That thought is what sends me spiraling.
“Cap,” I pant as I clench around his fingers.
“Say my name,” he growls, pressing so hard against my clit I gush around his hand.
“Decker,” I cry out, pulsing and writhing and reveling in our mutual flames.
“Decker. Decker. Decker.” His name is a mantra, a prayer.
I melt into his body as he whispers reassurance and praise in my ear. Encouragement like Thatta girl and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and I love watching you come apart at my hand. So beautiful. So fucking beautiful… My Siren. My Josephine.