Chapter Twenty-Five
Victory
We have a wonderful afternoon on the water, basking in the sun and eating lunch while we’re anchored at sea.
I love the funny stories he shared about things he’s done with his friends and family, and I enjoy sharing mine with him, too.
It feels strange not to constantly check my phone for work messages, I don’t want to waste a second of this time with Wells on work.
I know Padma will text if there’s an issue, so I jumped in with two feet and silenced my email notifications.
I’m hoping the strangeness will pass, because I want more days like this with Wells, more time in his world, and I want more time with him in mine.
While we head for Chaffee, I sunbathe on the deck just outside the helm, where he’s piloting the boat. The sun is beating down on me, the cool breeze coasting over my skin, and even with my eyes closed, I feel the heat of Wells’s gaze burning a hole through me.
I glance at him and smile.
“Come here, sexy girl. I want to show you something.” He reaches for my hand, drawing me into the covered area as we pass a lighthouse.
“That’s Fortune’s Landing Lighthouse.” He slows the boat to a crawl as we near the entrance of a cove, surrounded by rocky cliffs.
“This is Fortune’s Cove. See the beach by the cliff?
” He points to a rocky cliff with a small beach at the base.
“That’s Fortune’s Landing. This island was founded in 1601 by Bartholomew Silver.
He crashed his boat, the Fortune , right at the base of the cliff. ”
“That’s unfortunate.”
He squeezes my hand. “Legend has it that he was drunk and found naked with a harem of inebriated women.”
“So you come by your playboy ways naturally?” I tease.
“I’ll give you a playboy.” He takes me in a toe-curling kiss. “Have you ever piloted a boat?”
“I’ve sailed my parents’ boat, but I’m usually just a passenger on my brothers’ power boats.”
Surprise rises in his eyes. “You know how to sail?”
“Why do you sound so shocked? I grew up eating bugs and walking through swamps. My brothers and I once built a raft out of tree branches and vines.”
“Did it float?”
“ Yes . Although we spent most of our time pushing each other off of it.”
“That’s my girl. Queen of the raft. Get in here.” He guides me in front of him.
“What are we doing?”
“You’re going to pilot us to Chaffee.” He runs his hands along my stomach, and then he gathers my hair over one shoulder and kisses my neck. “After I show you how, I’m going to distract you.”
A shiver of heat moves through me. “What if I crash your boat?”
“Then you won’t get to use those restraints you’ve been dangling in front of me.”
“I definitely won’t crash,” I say.
“Good girl,” he says huskily.
He takes my hands, putting one on the wheel and the other on the throttle, and covers them with his own.
Then he proceeds to teach me how to pilot the boat.
When I’ve got the controls down pat, he doesn’t just distract me.
With his mouth on my neck, one hand in my bikini top, the other in my bikini bottom, and his hard length against my ass, he takes me right up to the verge of losing it.
I’m having trouble holding it together, riding his fingers, when we come to the mouth of the harbor in Chaffee. “Throttle down,” he growls in my ear. “It’s a no-wake zone.”
“You’ve got me wide-awake.” I can barely think past the need to come, but I manage to throttle down and realize there are boats heading out of the harbor. “Someone will see us.”
“We’re too far away, and they can’t see in the sides. Don’t take your eyes off the water.”
He moves between me and the wheel and crouches down, taking my bikini bottom with him. “Wells.” My heart races as his mouth makes contact, sending a bolt of pleasure through my core. “ Fuck ” falls from my lips like a plea. I rock against his mouth as he licks and sucks. “More.”
He pushes his fingers inside me and takes my clit between his teeth.
I cry out, struggling to keep my eyes open, white-knuckling the wheel and the throttle as a tsunami of sensations engulfs me.
He stays with me through the very last pulse of my climax, making the greediest, most appreciative sounds, heightening my arousal.
As I come down from the peak, he slows his efforts and then licks me clean.
He kisses my inner thighs, sending more shudders through me as he pulls up my bikini bottom, rising to his full height, and quickly assesses our proximity to the marina.
He pulls me into a merciless kiss, leaving me whimpering for more as he takes over piloting the boat, and I try to remember how to walk on rubbery legs.
After he docks the boat, he’s still hard, and I’m desperate for him. I run my hand over the front of his shorts, giving his cock a squeeze. “Can I help you with something belowdecks before we go on our trekabout?”
His cock jerks against my palm, his eyes flame, and he takes my hand, practically running down the stairs.
The second we’re belowdecks, his mouth is on mine, and I’m ripping open his shorts as he yanks off my bikini bottom.
He lifts me into his arms, and there’s no slowing us down.
He plows into me, and I hold nothing back, clinging to his shoulders as I ride his cock.
There’s no finesse, no sweet words or sensual caresses, just primal passion and desperation.
Every thrust of his hips sends an explosion of sparks searing through me.
My back hits the wall, and we use it for leverage as we pound out a frantic pace.
“Fuck me harder,” I pant out. “Come with me.”
A rough and heady growl tears from his lungs as our mouths crash together and his entire body turns to one hard muscle as he gives me what I crave.
I try to keep up with his feverish pace, try to continue kissing him, but turbulent waves of titillating sensations slam into me time and time again, like a war between heat and ice.
He squeezes my ass hard with both hands, sending pain and pleasure crashing over me.
My head falls back as his name flies from my lips and my name roars from his.
My inner muscles grip his cock so tight with every thrust, new sensations thunder through me.
I sink my teeth into his shoulder, earning the most sinful, gruff sound I’ve ever heard, sending me reeling again.
When we finally collapse against each other, our hearts raging, he runs a hand through my hair and grabs a fistful, tugging my head. His eyes blaze into mine, and he says, “What the fuck was that?”
I look at his shoulder and see my teeth broke the skin. “ Ohmygod . I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I bit you so hard.”
A wicked grin curves his lips. “I fucking loved it.” He takes me in a fierce, possessive kiss and then murmurs a demand. “Tell me you’re mine .”
My heart swells. There’s no denying the twinge of guilt that comes with it, but it doesn’t swamp me as I say, “I’m yours,” and I know that’s because the woman I’m giving Wells, the woman I’ve become, isn’t the same woman I gave Harvey.
“ Mine ,” he whispers, like he’s been given a gift.
Or maybe I’m projecting, because that’s how I feel about him.
He kisses me tenderly, and this time when he draws back, he looks amused. “So much for the restraints.”
We both laugh.
“You’re not getting out of that.” I give him a quick kiss. “Care to join me in a shower before we go into town?”
His answer comes in the form of another ferocious kiss as he carries me down the hall.
Chaffee is bustling with tourists, so different from New York.
People smile as we walk past and hold doors for us as we check out the cute shops along the marina.
The friendly vibe is as alluring as the sweet man who pulls me close and kisses me every chance he gets.
Kissing Wells is bordering on an obsession.
One I have no interest in quelling.
We make our way around the corner, and the town comes into view.
It’s absolutely breathtaking with cobblestone streets and a lush, hilly landscape dotted with colorful cottages and cedar-sided homes.
There is a town square that reminds me of some of the European areas my family visited as a child.
The enormous cobblestone courtyard is surrounded by three-story shops and art galleries that look more like townhomes with gorgeous wrought-iron balconies.
Large planters overflowing with colorful blooms and vibrant leafy plants are scattered around the square.
People are meandering through the square with dogs on leashes and sitting at iron tables and benches, while children run around playing.
A statue of a man and a dog stands sentinel in a large fountain on one side of the courtyard, where people are tossing in coins, and a few children peer over the edge, their fingers dangling in the water.
We spend all afternoon checking out the shops, chatting and holding hands, admiring art and clothing and whimsical, eclectic items. We buy a tiny metal mermaid that has a blue tail with a white C on it for our memory box.
Our memory box . I love that.
Not for the first time since Wells and I got together, I realize just how much living I’ve missed out on the last few years. But I know in my heart it wouldn’t have been the same without him.
Several people stop to talk to Wells, and he introduces me as his girlfriend.
I get butterflies every time he says that, which is silly for a woman my age, but I kind of love that, too.
He’s personable and kind to all of them, and as we walk away, he always takes a minute to tell me how he knows them, which is mainly through the restaurant, island events, or family and friends.
We find a gorgeous light blue floral dress for the wedding.
It has delicate shoulder straps, a ruched neckline, and a side slit that Wells swears makes him want to tear it right off.
He buys a matching light blue tie, and when I joke that we’re not going to the prom, he says, It’s our prom .
As cheesy as that is, I can’t help but swoon.
If that’s not enough to steal the last bits of my heart, he surprises the heck out of me when he buys a guitar.
“You’re going to teach me to play, remember?” he says as we leave the shop.
“I thought you were kidding about that.”
“Then you thought wrong.” He pulls me into a kiss. “Besides, I want to show off my talented girlfriend at the bonfire tonight.”
“You’re crazy.” I laugh. “I’m not that good.”
“Yes, you are, and I love watching you play. That’s all that matters.” He emphasizes his point with another kiss.
The truth is, if it’ll make him happy to hear me play, I’ll play all night long.
We have dinner at a quaint Italian restaurant and eat at a table outside by the courtyard, where a crowd has gathered around a pantomime.
The food is delicious and the performer is entertaining.
When we finish eating, Wells takes my hand and says, “Are you up for a quick walk down to the water? I want to get a picture of us for my office.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. When you’re in the city, and I’m out here, I want to see your beautiful face.”
I don’t want to think about being apart, but I’m glad he is, because I want a picture, too. The enormity of how much I want pictures of us not just in my office, but also in my home, hits deep and feels right. “Only if you’ll send it to me, too.”
The sun hangs low in the sky as we make our way down to the beach and walk along the shore.
The land juts into the ocean like a giant hand cradling the harbor, giving us a romantic view across the way to the lights of houses and shops.
Wells sets the guitar case and our bags in the sand, and we head over to a jetty of rocks.
He leans his butt against them and guides me between his legs.
His gaze moves adoringly over my face, and he tucks my hair behind my ear, his lips curving up. “There’s my girl,” he says just above a whisper, and my heart takes notice.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“What are you thinking about?”
I don’t even try to hold back the truth. “Kissing you.”
He laughs softly, and then his lips come slowly, sensually down over mine, and I know that it won’t matter how many pictures we take. Every moment we’re apart will feel like an eternity.