5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Rayna
I should not be on this boat.
Joel’s hand felt so good in mine when he helped me aboard. And now he is standing at the wheel in the low afternoon light, one hand steady on the controls, the other resting near his thigh, and I cannot stop looking at him.
This was a terrible idea. The last thing I need is to catch feelings for a local.
The lake spreads out around us, gold and blue and endless. The air is cool on my skin as we speed away from the dock. And I have to admit, it’s the most content I’ve felt in a really long time.
Joel slows the boat near a quiet cove where the trees lean close to the water. A few ripples lap against the hull. Somewhere in the trees, a bird calls. It’s peaceful.
Joel cuts the engine and drops an anchor.
I look around. The cove is small and sheltered, tucked away from the open water like a secret. The trees come right down to the edge on three sides, their branches trailing fingertips across the surface. The sky above is turning to amber and rose as the sun inches closer to the horizon.
“This is beautiful,” I say, looking at Joel. “I bet you bring all the girls here.”
“No.”
There’s no flirtation in his voice. No smile. Just a simple, honest “No.”
My stomach flips. “Oh.”
Joel comes to sit beside me on the bench. We sit in the quiet for a minute. It’s not awkward, but it’s not exactly comfortable either. There’s an undeniable, sizzling attraction between us, and I don’t think either of us knows what to do about it.
“So,” he says, finally. “You’re not a roots person.”
I look out over the water. “I move around a lot,” I say. “My parents always said I had wanderlust. I just never felt like I fit anywhere. I tried college for a while, but it wasn’t for me. So, I’ve focused on the next job, the next opportunity, the next adventure.”
“Where else have you lived?” he asks.
“All over,” I admit. “I worked at Disney Land for a couple of years. Then I tried my hand in a Vegas casino. I started making my way East after that, waitressing in diners along Route 66. But nowhere ever fit. Not for long, anyway. Now, I’m here.”
“Are you running from something?”
I should bristle at the question, but I don’t. Maybe because his voice is gentle. Maybe because the sun is sinking and the lake is quiet and he doesn’t feel like someone looking for weakness. He feels like someone who just wants to know me.
“I’m not running. I’m just… searching, I guess?”
His gaze settles on me. “For what?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Hopefully, I’ll know it when I find it.”
“I think Mercury Ridge is the perfect fit for you.”
My heartrate kicks up a notch. “You don’t even know me.”
“I want to.” His voice is husky, and it knocks the wind right out of me.
“Joel,” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Jenna’s roommate comes back at the end of the summer. I’m leaving then.” It’s a statement, but I hear the doubt in my own voice.
“Okay.”
“You say that like it doesn’t matter.”
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second before returning to my eyes. “It matters.”
Heat pools low in my belly, and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole life.
Don’t be a fool, Rayna…
I should tell him to take me back. I should remember that I have no plan, no permanent job, no roots, and absolutely no business looking at a man like Joel as if he might be just the thing I’ve been looking for all this time.
I lick my lips. “What’s happening here?”
His expression softens. “Whatever you want.”
That almost breaks me. Because I am used to men wanting things. I am not used to men making room for what I want.
And right now, what I want is him.
I shift closer, as if pulled toward him on a wire. Like this is inevitable.
His hand comes up, not grabbing, not taking. Just touching my cheek with the backs of his fingers, like he wants to make sure I’m real.
Then he kisses me.
Soft at first. So soft I almost ache with the need for more.
His mouth is warm and careful, giving me time to lean in, to decide, to melt. And I do. I melt right into him, one hand curling in the front of his shirt, the other sliding up to his shoulder.
Then I make a small sound against his mouth, and Joel goes still for half a heartbeat before his control slips.
He kisses me deeper, his hand sliding into my hair, his other arm wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. I end up half across the bench, pressed against him, my knees tucked beside his thigh, my heart racing so fast I’m sure he can feel it.
His mouth moves to my jaw, then the side of my neck, and I tip my head back without thinking, moaning for more.
“Rayna,” he murmurs against my throat.
Joel pulls back and looks at me for a moment, his eyes dark, his expression open in a way that undoes me completely.
“You tell me if you want to stop,” he says.
I reach for the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want to stop.”
He lets me pull it over his head, and I get a long moment to appreciate the view. I press my palm flat against his sternum and feel his heart beating hard and fast beneath the warmth of his skin.
Good. He’s not as steady as he looks.
His hands find the hem of my tank and he pauses, asking without words. I lift my arms and he tugs my shirt over my head. His eyes move over me slowly, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world and intends to use it.
His mouth finds my collarbone, my shoulder, the curve of my neck. I sink my fingers into his hair and hold on. Every kiss is deliberate, every touch considered, and I realize this is just how Joel does things—careful, present, making sure I feel every single second of it.
It is going to ruin me.
His mouth teases the lace of my bra, bringing my nipples to stiff peaks as I moan his name. His lips move back to mine as he fidgets with the clasp of my bra, his tongue sliding against mine as my bra falls to the floor of the boat.
I climb into his lap, pleased to feel his hard cock beneath me. I can’t wait to do something about that…
He gently pulls on my nipples, as we continue to make-out like frenzied teenagers. I reach for the button of his pants and his breath catches. A small, sharp sound that sends heat flooding through me because I did that.
I made this composed, steady man lose his breath. He helps me strip the remainder of his clothes off, and then I do the same, enjoying the heat in his eyes as he watches me.
He pulls me close, sucking on one of my nipples as his hand cups my pussy. His fingertips find my clit, rubbing my sensitive nub until I’m nearly driven mad with desire.
“I want you, Joel.”
I climb into his lap, settling over him. His eyes never leave mine as I sink onto his cock, slowly, inch by inch, until I’m settled into his lap and there’s nothing between us but warm skin and lake air and the weight of everything we haven’t said yet.
I move over him, setting the pace, loving the feel of him deep inside me and the feel of my nipples brushing against his muscled chest. He kisses me deeply, sucking on my tongue as I ride him.
He whispers my name once, low and wrecked, and that’s what does it—not the pressure or the rhythm or the heat of his skin against mine, but the way he says my name. Like I matter. Like this matters. Like I’m not just passing through.
When I fall apart, he does too, and he holds me through every second of it, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath as unsteady as my own as we wait for our bodies to stop shaking.
Afterward, we lie across the bench, and he gathers me against his chest. My cheek rests over his heart. His arm wraps around me possessively, like he has no intention of letting me go.
The cool summer air feels amazing on my hot skin, and for a while, neither of us speaks.
The lake rocks the boat gently, and it’s all too much. And somehow, not enough. I want more. I want everything.
Is Joel what I’ve been searching for?
“You okay?” he asks, voice low.
I smile against his skin. “There’s that question again.”
“Answer it.”
I lift my head to look at him. His hair is mussed from my fingers, his expression open and unguarded.
“I’m okay,” I say softly. More than okay. Terrifyingly okay.
His hand strokes down my back. “Good.”
I settle back against his chest and let myself have one more minute.
Then another.
Then another.
I never want this night to end.