Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
ELI
Jules whirled around with her eyes wide and filled with awe. My heart did something ridiculous as I took in her flushed cheeks and the wisps of dark hair escaping her silver clip. Lurched. Soared. She looked like sunlight breaking through the clouds, alive and radiant.
I wanted to capture this moment, etch it into my mind forever. God, she was beautiful. I crossed the room, each step deliberate. Not my usual lazy, easy saunter, but something more purposeful. Something that said this matters.
“Eli,” she breathed, a smile blooming across her face.
My hand found her cheek of its own accord, thumb brushing over her soft skin. “Hey there, green eyes.”
I’d watched from the front door of the dive shop as she found the message in a bottle I’d placed on the dive boat, then hurried to the dive shack.
When she’d reappeared to race toward the dive shop, I’d tiptoed to hide in a storage closet.
Finally confident she was in the classroom, I’d moved to watch from the shadows, delighted beyond measure as she read my note before looking everywhere for the next clue.
“What? When? How…” I smiled as she glanced at the box on the table, then turned back to me. “You talked to Helen?”
I nodded, unable to keep the grin off my face. “I did. Yesterday. And we’ve got her full approval now.”
Jules’s mouth dropped open. I wanted nothing more than to kiss those perfect lips, to show her exactly how much this moment meant to me. But I held back, savoring the way her eyes searched mine.
“Really?” Jules clutched the coral heart like a precious jewel, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “How did you… I mean, she was so adamant before. What changed her mind?”
I shrugged, but my trademark casual gesture couldn’t hide the emotion I was feeling. “I just told her the truth. That I couldn’t live without you.” The words hung between us, stripped bare and honest.
My fingers brushed her wrist, tracing the line where professional Jules—the buttoned-up accountant who’d challenged me at every resort budget meeting—gave way to something more vulnerable. Something real.
“I poured my heart out,” I continued, my voice low. “Told her how you challenge me. How you make the resort better. How you make me better. Mom realized pretty quickly how much you mean to me.”
Jules blinked. Once. Twice. And then she laughed—that rich, unexpected sound that so few people heard. The laugh that said she was more than spreadsheets and careful calculations. The laugh that said she was alive. “This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I grinned, the kind of smile that had to show every complicated, joyful thing I was feeling. “I have to confess that Brenna helped me plan the scavenger hunt.”
Jules swatted my arm. “Please. This is pure you. Completely, ridiculously you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ridiculous, huh? I’ll have you know, a lot of thought went into this little adventure.”
“I know it did,” she said quietly, her smile fading as she dropped her eyes to the heart still held in both hands. “I still can’t believe it’s all real.”
I gently lifted her face with my knuckle. “Believe it. All of it.”
Taking her hand, I led Jules back to the table. The remnants of the scavenger hunt lay tucked inside the box—my dive slate, the bottled message, my dog-eared copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and, of course, the coral heart, which she placed on the table.
“So,” Jules said, her voice soft with wonder as she removed the other items and lined them up next to the heart, “walk me through this masterpiece of yours. I can’t tell you how incredible this all is.”
I picked up the worn novel, running my thumb along its cracked spine. “Well, I wanted the whole thing to be Jules Verne–themed. Seemed fitting, given your nickname and all.” I winked at her. “And this book? The adventure, the mystery… kind of reminded me of you from the start.”
Jules grinned in pure delight. “Smooth talker.”
I laughed, setting the book down and reaching for the bottled message. “I got this parchment from Brenna’s shop. Thought it’d add a nice touch of authenticity to the whole message in a bottle thing.”
“And the dive slate?” Jules asked, running her fingers over the plastic surface.
“Ah, well, that was just practical—I had to start somewhere. Though I’m glad to get it back. Can’t imagine teaching without it.”
She laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. “Heaven forbid.”
I grinned and lifted the coral heart. Its familiar weight settled in my palm, but now it felt different.
Charged with new meaning. I pointed with my chin at the tall oak bookcase at the front of the classroom.
“I found this years ago on a dive in the middle of a sand patch. Don’t worry—I’d never take anything live out of the ocean.
” My chest swelled a little at the pride in her eyes as she smiled.
“I kept it in the bookcase there in the corner. Always thought it represented my love for the ocean.”
Jules’s eyes softened as she looked at me. “And now?”
I swallowed hard, tamping down the emotion. “Now I realize it was always meant for you. A treasure I’d been holding onto without even knowing why.”
“I love it,” she whispered. For a second, I thought she might cry. Then she laughed, a soft, melodic sound that touched something deep within me. “So my love is tied to a rock?”
“Hey, it’s a beautiful rock!” I protested. “It’s coral, and it’s special. Just like you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Eli Coleridge.”
“Good, because I’m just getting started. We are.” I gently returned the coral and stepped closer.
Her breath caught, and I saw tears shimmering in her eyes. “Thank you.”
I took a deep breath, examining the way my heart pounded. And discovering I was fine with that. “I need to be honest with you. These feelings, they scared the hell out of me at first.”
She lifted her head, acceptance flitting through her eyes. “I know they did.”
I ran a hand through my hair, struggling to find the right words. “For years, I thought all relationships led to pain and resentment. And I was determined not to follow in my parents’ footsteps.”
“So you kept everyone at arm’s length.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I was terrified of repeating their mistakes. It almost drove me away from you.”
She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine. “And now? How do you feel?”
I gazed into her eyes, marveling at the depth of emotion I saw there. “Now? Loving you feels like the most natural thing in the world. I spent my whole life running from anything that felt real. You make me want to stop running. Because it’s not fear anymore. It’s strength.”
Jules’s lips curved into a soft smile. “I understand that fear, Eli. After what happened with Travis… I was so afraid to trust again, to open myself up to that kind of pain.”
“Hey,” I said gently, stepping closer, bridging the distance between us again. “I get it. I really do. You’ve got your walls, and I’ve got mine. But when I’m with you, those walls don’t seem so solid anymore.”
“Because they’re not, yours or mine. Trust changes everything. We’re different.”
I nodded. “Completely different. I trust you. Implicitly.”
“And us?” The question hung between us, weighted with possibility.
“Us,” I replied quietly, “is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The classroom around us, with its marine life posters and whiteboards, became smaller. Peripheral. Her fingers traced the edge of my T-shirt, a deliberate touch that sent electricity skating across my skin.
She wrapped her arms around my neck as she pressed herself tightly to me. “Your passion for life is infectious. You made me remember what it feels like to truly live, not just go through the motions and call it a life. I’ve missed you every day.”
Taking a step back, I cupped her face and stroked the warmth of her skin. Saw everything I’d been afraid of—and everything I now wanted—reflected in her eyes.
“I love you,” I said. Not a declaration. A promise.
Then I kissed her.
Deep. Consuming. No holding back.
“I love you too. So much.” She pressed the words into my mouth.
The kiss deepened, becoming raw and urgent. I slid my hands down her back, tracing the line of her spine through her thin shirt. Jules gasped against my mouth, then followed that up with her tongue. I moaned as it skated over the roof of my mouth.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless, Jules’s eyes were dark with desire. She glanced around the empty classroom, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “You know, I noticed when I came in that the dive shop is closed. We’re all alone here.”
My pulse skipped at the implication in her words. “Why, Ms. Verne, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
She bit her lower lip and gave me a scorching look through lowered lashes, which only made me throb harder. “Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”
A half smile spread across my face as that delicious, familiar heat pooled in my belly. “Well, that depends. What exactly did you have in mind?”
Her fingers trailed down my chest, her touch inflaming me even through the fabric of my shirt. When she reached the waistband of my shorts, her hand dipped lower, palm pressing against my rock-hard shaft.
“Oh, I have all sorts of ideas,” she murmured, her voice husky.
My breath caught in my throat. This was my by-the-book, spreadsheet-loving Jules. And she was so much more.
“Care to share some of those ideas?” I managed to choke out, my voice embarrassingly strained.
Instead of answering, Jules sank to her knees, her hands working at the button of my shorts. My heart thundered in my chest as she took me into her mouth. Our eyes stayed locked.
Holy shit.
Her tongue swirled around me, achingly slow, and I couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped. My hands found their way into her hair, not guiding, just needing something to hold onto as waves of pleasure washed over me.
“God,” I breathed, my eyes screwing shut as she continued her torturously slow pace. “You’re killing me here.”
I felt more than heard her laugh, a vibration that made me grit my teeth to hang on. I forced my eyes open, needing to see her. The sight of her looking up at me, those bright eyes filled with desire, nearly undid me right there.
I took a shuddering breath, summoning every ounce of willpower I possessed, and took a step back. With a gentle tug on her arm, I urged Jules to her feet.
Her eyes widened in surprise when I picked her up and set her on the table, gently brushing the scavenger hunt items to the side.
I lifted her shirt off and unhooked her bra, then removed my own shirt.
When I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, she raised her hips, helping me slide them off.
I paused, drinking in the sight of her. My hands trailed up her thighs, savoring the softness of her skin.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Her chest moved with the force of her breathing. “Eli, I want you so bad.”
I silenced her with a deep, ravenous kiss. Then I trailed my lips down her neck, her collarbone, one beautiful, perfect breast and the other. Then lower still.
Her breath hitched as I settled between her legs.
Her taste was intoxicating, and I lost myself, my tongue exploring every inch of her.
Jules’s cries filled the room, her hips bucking wildly as I brought her closer and closer to the edge, committing every gasp and shudder to memory.
Her fingers gripped my hair, urging me closer.
“Oh God,” she whimpered. “Right there.”
She was usually so controlled, so measured. But not now. Now she unraveled beneath my touch. And only I knew this other side of her. I mapped her with the same precision she used at work. Every response. Every breath and gasp. Cataloging. Analyzing. Destroying her composure inch by deliberate inch.
Her fingers gripped me tight. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts that echoed through the empty classroom.
“Yes…” she moaned.
And I was relentless. Determined to make her cry out.
To shatter every professional wall she’d ever constructed.
Her thighs trembled against my shoulders as I built her up higher and higher.
And then, with a final flick of my tongue, she shattered, her climax pulsing through her.
I held her steady as she came apart, my name a breathless chant on her lips.
I fumbled for the condom in my wallet, nearly dropping it in my haste. Still on the table, Jules watched me with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. “Come here.” She pulled me close.
I slid into her with a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation. She was so warm and ready. We moved together urgently, the pent-up desire and frustration finally unleashed. The table creaked beneath us, but I couldn’t have cared less.
“Jules,” I panted, “you feel amazing.”
She responded by wrapping her legs tighter around my waist, drawing me deeper.
My world narrowed to this woman beneath me, around me—her heat, her rhythm, the way she arched her back.
Every thrust felt like a revelation, like coming home.
She was liquid fire around me, tight and soft and impossibly responsive.
Her fingers dug into my back, making me hiss with pleasure and pain in equal measure.
The tension built, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped. We cried out, clinging to each other as waves washed over us. Nothing else existed but this connection.
As our breathing slowed, I gazed into her eyes.
“You’re the one for me,” I said softly, hoping she understood the weight of those words. “I hope you know that.”
She nodded, a smile rising on her face as she brushed away a bead of sweat from my cheek.
“I do, because you’re the one for me.” She barked a laugh, and it sounded slightly bewildered.
“Never thought a philosophy of duct tape and beer would rub off on me. But turns out? It was exactly what I needed.”
We both started laughing.
Loud.
Uninhibited.
Completely, perfectly us.