23. Paige
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Paige
We’re embarking Maria once again, but this time I came prepared. I’m wearing a white linen dress shirt that covers most of my body and my trusted hat. Now I just need to make sure both stay on. Hopefully, Dad isn’t planning another competition under the midday sun.
I step onto the boat, and a firm, large palm presses to the small of my back. I let out a quiet gasp, the salty air seeping into my nostrils.
“Careful there,” Ryan whispers into my ear, giving me a full body shiver.
The others are already on the deck, so thankfully, no one saw. I’m still shaken from the smallest of touches when I sit at the table plated with breakfast.
Anthony informs us we have about an hour until we reach our destination, where they’ll equip us with snorkeling gear to swim with the turtles. A flame of excitement lights up in my belly, one that was extinguished for years.
Swimming with turtles is one of the things on my bucket list from when I dreamed of traveling the world. It’s a vague, distant feeling, like getting a doll that you wished for as a kid once you’re an adult, but it’s still fucking cool.
The hour passes quickly, and soon we’re getting ready to dive.
I ask Emma to apply an extra layer of sunscreen on my back since the sun can still burn my skin underwater.
My tongue darts out unintentionally when Ryan takes his shirt off before clipping the snorkel vest across his chest. He squats down to put on his fins, making the muscles of his thighs flex.
A memory of how hard those muscles are pops into my head, and my nipples pebble under the vest.
Thank God for it.
We get into the water one by one, and Ryan’s muscles are soon forgotten. From the vibrant turquoise waters, the colorful fish, and the yellow and green corals, you can’t be anything but present in the moment. Jordan takes a few videos of us with her camera before I drift off on my own.
Not even ten feet away from the crowd, I see the first turtle.
She swims nonchalantly, without a care in the world, her small flippers gently fighting the currents.
In two strokes, I’m closer. She’s still undisturbed by my presence, traveling this vast ocean all alone.
For a second, I stare, mesmerized, wishing I could do the same.
Wishing I could ignore all the outside and inside voices and just do what my heart truly desires.
Preferably on the gorgeous white sandy beaches, just like her.
A figure appears in the distance, and I realize it’s Ryan. His camera is up, photographing the turtle. And me.
My lips pull up into a smile beneath my mouthpiece.
It’s enough to make a drop of water enter my windpipe and make me cough violently.
In a rush, I break the surface, spitting the mouthpiece out and inhaling some air.
Ryan surfaces right after and starts slapping my back.
It does nothing since we’re both in the water, so I start laughing as soon as I’m able to breathe.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, you really saved me there.”
He splashes water in my face, only widening my grin. “What happened?”
“You scared me and I inhaled some water.”
He shakes his head before motioning to his right. “Come on.”
I open my mouth to ask where, but his hand wraps around mine. A gentle tingle travels up my arm, settling into my chest, and any other thoughts disappear.
Positioning the mouthpiece back into my mouth, I dive in the direction he showed.
I follow his deliberate strokes until we reach a beautiful coral reef.
My lungs expand, staring at the gorgeous colors in front of me, but I barely suppress a scream when a massive stingray swims in front of us.
It’s the length of my legs and the width of Ryan and me put together.
My legs kick excitedly, and he takes my hand again, calming me down.
The less commotion we make, the more animals we’ll probably see.
The calmness pays off in less than a minute, when we’re greeted by the presence of a nurse shark.
My heart rate picks up as exhilaration overtakes me.
The shark passes, and we both resurface to catch a breath.
I’m the first to dive back in, deep enough to reach the corals.
Touching them would hurt them, but I try to get closer to memorize every color and detail.
Ryan follows, taking pictures. I guess I’ll appear in every photo he has of this trip.
That gives me an idea. I should take his photo.
I point to him, then to me, and then pretend I’m holding a camera in a very obvious attempt to confer my message.
Unfortunately, it falls on deaf ears. So, I reach my hand out to grab it from him.
Sharp pain travels through my flesh, making me wince.
I glance down, noticing I must’ve snagged a poor coral with my hand, which is currently bleeding, with a nasty gash between my thumb and index finger.
The wound burns, but my legs start flailing for a different reason. Sharks. There are sharks here and I’m bleeding.
Anthony gave us a brief introduction to the animals we’ll see today. Nurse sharks are docile, slow-moving and rarely aggressive, but I’m still bleeding in shark-infested waters.
I lose control of my body, panic overtaking me, when something wraps around my torso, pulling me up to the surface. A shriek escapes me as I spit out the mouthpiece, holding my hand high in the air as blood drips down my arm.
“It’s okay,” a voice says, and I realize Ryan is swimming me to the boat, our masks glued together.
I’m no help, but he gets us to the steps of the boat in record time. Pressing a foot to the bottom step, he uses the resistance to lift me onto the deck.
“What happened?” Dad swims to us, his eyes wide behind his mask.
Ryan jumps up to the deck, opening my palm gently to check my arm. “Just a minor cut. It’s okay.”
With my other hand, I take off the mask while focusing on my breathing. In, out. In, out. In, out. Once it finally settles, I realize Ryan’s right. The cut isn’t bad at all. The blood must have mixed with water, making it look worse, but I still overreacted.
I clear my throat of the lump that formed. “I’m fine. Sorry to scare you guys. I think I just got scared… because of the blood.”
Ryan rolls his lips, holding a smile, and my own lips pull up. Jordan raises her thumb and dives back in.
The boat’s crew all appear on the deck. “Don’t worry, Miss Simms. We can clean the wound and patch you right up.”
“That’s okay, I’ll do it. I just need the medical kit,” Ryan says before scooping me up from the ground as if I weigh nothing. I try not to focus on the spots where his hands are holding me, the heat of them burning my skin. “Can you take the kit?”
I take the first aid kit Anthony reaches out to us. Ryan leads me down the narrow staircase, through a hallway, and into what seems like a bedroom. Or a cabin, since we’re on a boat. He takes three steps before lowering me gently onto a soft, cool surface—the bed.
My bleeding wound completely forgotten, my eyes trail the cabin. It’s covered in light woods and more spacious than you’d expect a boat cabin to be. The bed is at least a queen, with a dozen decorative pillows and a dark blue duvet.
“Shit, I’m wet,” he murmurs.
I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about until he returns from the ensuite bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.
He climbs onto the bed, kneeling next to me, and slowly takes my hand.
I’m faintly aware he’s doing something, but my gaze is stuck to the muscular planes of his chest, dripping with water.
One drop can’t hold on any longer, so it starts its journey over his defined abs, trails the indent of one side of his V before disappearing beneath the towel.
Where did it go? Was it absorbed by the towel, or did it continue to drip lower and lower and lower... All the way down to his sizeable cock.
“Paige?”
My head snaps up to his face. There’s a smirk etched into his lines, showing me he knows exactly what I was staring at. My cheeks flush.
“Yeah?”
“You’re making it hard to concentrate.” I know there’s more to the sentence, but my mind is stuck on the ‘You’re making it hard’ part.
“W-why is that?” Our eyes connect, and the heat in his eyes punches the breath out of my lungs. The cool sheets are suddenly scorching beneath me, along with the two scraps of fabric I’m wearing.
“Because you’re spread out on the bed in front of me, wearing practically nothing, and looking at me like I’m your last meal.”
Spread out for him? A quick glance at my legs shows me my knees are indeed fully spread out. I’m not sure how it happened, but I blame the loss of blood. On a sharp inhale, I quickly close them.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He shakes his head and lets go of my hand, which is now disinfected and wrapped in gauze.
I don’t dare ask what he means by it. My heart thuds loudly in my ears, my chest is heaving, and I’m pretty sure the puddle forming underneath me is more than the result of my wet bikini bottoms.
“How’s writing going, Paige?”
“What?”
“Did you manage to…” His finger trails my leg, starting from my ankle, up to the back of my knee, and I let out a soft gasp. “Write the column about that little sex toy?”
I barely register his words. “W-what are you doing?” My voice is a breathy whisper.
“Is your hand hurting?”
A hand? Do I have a hand? “No.”
His finger is now on my thigh, and my stomach clenches with need.
A flutter starts low in my core, ticking in sync with my heart.
When he reaches the crease where my thigh meets my hip, he lifts the finger up to my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
Fire has swallowed his gray irises, and I see my reflection in the deep pools of his desire.
“I’m only going to ask this once, so you better be sure about your answer. Do you want me to stop?”
Stop what? What are you planning to do? Both of our families are right outside. This is stupid and dangerous, and we shouldn’t be doing this. That’s what I should say. Instead, I roll my lips and shake my head.
“Good. Now let me see you.”
“I don’t…”
“Let. Me. See. You.”
His low command does more for me than I’d like to admit.
The gauze on my hand signals that it should probably hurt, but the pain doesn’t connect to my brain.
The brain that is currently swimming with endorphins.
Slowly, carefully, I peel the triangles of my bikini to the sides, revealing my breasts.
They’re not much, but the hiss Ryan lets out is intoxicating.
He traces his palms gently over my nipples, and a shiver runs through me.
“Fucking perfect,” Ryan mutters, staring at my breasts before glancing up into my eyes. “But I want to see the whole you, Paige.” I hesitate for a second, so he adds, “I want you to take these off, too.” He snaps the elastic of my bikini bottoms. “Take them off and I’ll reward you.”
This is another catastrophic idea, I’m sure of it. But my body is programmed to follow his husky commands, leaving me no choice.
With tentative fingers, I untie both sides of my swimsuit before exposing myself fully to him.
His eyes darken even more. I roll my bottom lip, and he lowers to his knees in front of me.
He blows a cold breath over my slit, making me take in a shaky breath.
I try to keep my cool as his tongue circles my clit faintly, but as he sucks it into his warm mouth, I can’t help but let out a loud moan.
“Tsk, tsk, baby. You’re going to have to be quiet. There are people upstairs, and I’d rather they not know how delicious this pretty little pussy tastes.”
This time my moan is a whimper, my abs contracting with the need to do more. To move, to scream, to grind myself on his face.
“You can do that, can’t you? You can be quiet for me,” he whispers into my pussy.
It’s not a question, not really, but I still nod frantically, willing to do anything, say anything just to keep him from stopping what he’s doing.
Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. He grabs me by my thighs and shatters me with quick licks and nips, as well as slow sucks that make my eyes roll to the back of my head.
It’s been years since someone ate me out, but I’m pretty sure it never felt this way.
His fingers are biting into my flesh in a gently painful, delicious way, and his mouth works miracles on my deeply neglected pussy.
It clenches with his assaults, begging to be filled.
Desperate little whimpers and whines escape my mouth, and my hips start fidgeting.
He glances into my eyes, his sinful mouth curves into a smirk, and in that moment, I know he’ll destroy me.