Chapter 15
“I LIKE THIS VIEW.”
Chevelle
Ikeep looking at Cam’s boat, and he’s yet to run to the bathroom, from what I can tell. He’s been casually sitting in his wheelhouse on his phone with his feet propped up, drinking his coffee. The coffee I put the laxative in.
I open my bag and yes, it was the right bottle.
Having no choice but to leave when my charter arrives, he waves at me as we’re leaving. “Safe trip.” His smile is so wide, it tells me I’m missing something.
I wave back.
“Is that Cameron Baker?” the dad on the charter asks.
“It is.” Most of our charter guests come from out of town, but this family said they just wanted a day away and made the impromptu decision two days ago to book my charter. Thankfully, I was available. “How do you know him?”
“He and his friend come to me all the time. He’s watching his friend more often than not.”
The mom lowers her book. “My husband’s a tattoo artist. Owns Smokin’ Guns in Lake Starlight.”
I nod. “Oh yeah. I think I’ve heard of it.”
“Does he have a younger brother?” The teenage daughter is practically hanging out of the boat, looking back at the pier.
I laugh. “Sorry, only child.”
The mom looks up from her book again. “And that man is way too old for you, sweetie.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” the girl asks.
“Cam? No. He’s my brother’s best friend. I grew up with him.”
“Oh!” The girl looks at her mom, who’s smiling at her husband. “My dad was my mom’s brother’s best friend.”
“Really?” I smile.
“I still am their best friend,” the dad says.
The mom leans over. “It took me a long time to admit my feelings.”
The big guy with more tattoos than Fisher moves to sit next to his wife, setting his hand on her knee. “But I wore her down.”
“Now they’re gonna kiss,” their son whines and covers his eyes.
After their chaste kiss, we’re out of the marina and on our way to a fishing location that I hope will be successful for the little boy because it would suck if he didn’t catch anything. Once we’re there, the mom sits with me while the dad puts bait on the kids’ hooks.
“So there’s nothing between you two?” She actually catches me off guard and the look I give her causes her to step back, hand raised. “Sorry, I sound like my grandma.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “My grandma too. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect she booked your charter to get the skinny on Cam and me.”
She laughs and looks at me for a moment. “I think I know you, actually. Do you have a brother who plays soccer?”
“I do.”
She points at herself. “Savannah Bailey—er, Kelly. But my niece Calista plays with your brother… Rylan, right?”
My eyes widen. “You’re a Bailey?”
“Was a Bailey!” her husband calls from the front of the boat.
“Liam, I’ll always be a Bailey,” she says.
“Nope, you’re a Kelly.” He looks at his children. “We’re Kellys.”
Savannah laughs. I thought she looked familiar, but I see so many people during tourist season it’s hard to keep them all straight.
“So your grandma is Dori Bailey?”
“The one and only,” Savannah says. “And I swear she did not send me here.” She holds up both hands this time.
We laugh, and just then, Cam’s boat goes by, venturing farther out. He’s at the helm, the wind blowing his hair, his charter guests all laughing, and a woman at his side is chatting him up. She’s attractive and definitely his type.
Why the hell isn’t he in the bathroom by now?
I watch them pass, and he doesn’t even give me a wave or a hello.
I look at Savannah, who’s giving me a knowing smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” She looks at her husband and kids. “God knows, it took me forever to get where we are.”
“It’s not…” But I stop, because why lie to this woman? “It’s just complicated.”
She puts her hand on mine. “Oh, I know. Believe me, I know.”
For the rest of the day, Cam and I pass one another on the water.
He doesn’t look uncomfortable. He’s not sweating.
He even stopped and talked to Liam Kelly for a good half hour and was his usual charming self.
He’s taken out all of his charters, helped them carry the fish in, and nothing. What am I missing?
It isn’t until the end of the day, when we’re both cleaning out our boats, that he calls my name. Rowdy has already left the marina, and the majority of the fishing boats are gone for the week.
“Chevelle!” he says. “Come over and have a beer.”
“No, thanks.”
“Oh, come on. It’s been a long day for both of us.”
And he’s right. It has. So I leave my boat, since it’s already clean, and walk over to his. Since he’s in one of the more expensive slips, he’s pretty much all by himself. The yachts we get here in the nice weather are dwindling as we come to the end of the season.
I slip off my shoes and step on his boat. He offers me a beer, and I accept it.
“If you prefer, I have some coffee from this morning.” He jiggles an empty cup in the air.
I frown and shake my head.
“Did you really think I’d drink something that was left in your presence without me?”
“It was worth a try after what you did to me.”
He goes down to the galley, and I follow. “I admit the orgy thing wasn’t nice. But I did think you were going to get there before them. And let’s remember, you’re responsible for the dead fish and for getting my customers drunk the night before.”
“I told you I had no idea they were your customers until it was too late.”
He turns around and steps toward me, pushing my body against the counter. “And the laxative in the coffee?”
“What do you care? You didn’t even drink it.”
“No, but one of my guests did. I left it on the wheelhouse counter, and she mistook it for her own. Was in the bathroom the entire charter.”
“You mean the blonde?”
He smirks. That arrogant smirk that gets under my skin. I shouldn’t have said I even noticed the blonde.
“Was someone following me?” he singsongs.
“You passed me on the boat. She was hard to miss.”
He leans in closer, and even after a day’s work, I still smell a hint of his cologne. “Are you jealous, Chevelle?”
“Not now that I know she spent the majority of the time in the bathroom.” I give him a saccharine smile.
His gaze falls to my lips, and my tongue instinctively slides out of my mouth, licking my bottom lip.
“Admit it.” His voice is husky.
“Admit what? That the laxative was for you?”
His hand presses against the ceiling, and he leans in. I lean back as far as I can go, and he shakes his head.
“Get over yourself, Cam.”
He shakes his head again. “I’m not buying it. That woman got you jealous, just like all those guys you charter get me riled up.”
Our eyes lock.
“I don’t want you to win the contest.” It’s the truth. Even if I’m avoiding a more obvious truth.
“And I don’t want you to win, but right now, we’re not talking about fish. I want a truce.”
I arch my back. The ache building between my legs from feeling his body so close to mine keeps intensifying. He notices and glances down at my pushed-out breasts.
“Fine, you have a truce,” I say.
“As easy as that? I don’t believe you.”
“Ugh.” I slide out from under his arm, crossing the room to get some distance. “You’re impossible.” I start to go up the stairs, but he grabs my wrist.
I stop, and his thumb runs along the inside of my wrist, making my eyes flutter closed for a beat. Then I turn toward him, and he tugs me into his arms.
“Just so you know, I hate you.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he whispers right before his lips touch mine.
I try to remain strong, but finally having his lips on mine, after all this time, is my undoing.
His tongue slides along my bottom lip, asking permission, and I open for him immediately.
We’ve gone from zero to sixty in three seconds.
Neither of us can get enough. My hands fist his shirt, afraid this moment might end. A moment I’ve waited so damn long for.
His hands venture down my body, grabbing my ass, lifting me so I wrap my legs around his waist. He turns us around and sets me on the edge of the table.
“You know you don’t hate me.” His lips trail small kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
“Stop talking and keep kissing me.”
That cocky smirk is sexy as hell as I fist his shirt and pull him into me. Our movements are frantic and wild. The hunger between us is alive and building, impossible to stop.
My fingers fly to his shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them, pushing them down.
Cam tears off my shirt, leaving me wearing only my bra.
His hands mold to my breasts, and he squeezes them, then his thumbs dip below the cups to tease my nipples.
All our movements are frantic and jerky, as though if we don’t do this right now, we’re worried the other one might put a stop to it.
My head falls back on a sigh. “Don’t stop.”
He unhooks my bra, helping me toss it somewhere to the side.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.” He bends and takes my right nipple into his mouth while his fingers play with my other one.
I put my hands on the table behind me, arching my back for him.
He takes off his shirt, pulling it by the collar over his head, and stares at me for a second. There’s something different in his expression than just lust. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? Cam, I’m half naked and begging here. I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
After that, we accomplish getting my shorts and panties off and removing his boxer briefs. I lie on the table, and he grabs my ass, pulling me to the edge while he reaches into a nearby drawer and grabs a condom. I watch him roll it down his considerable length.
“There’s so much more I want to do.” I run my hand down his chiseled abs. This man has the body of a professional athlete.
“We have time, but right now, I need inside of you.” He teases me with the tip of his dick, running it over my clit and making sure I’m wet enough to take him. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Chevelle.”
He hammers inside me, and I cry out, the feeling of being so full of him intense. “Don’t say nice things unless you mean them.”
He laughs but doesn’t stop drilling me while one hand explores my body, traveling through the valley of my breasts and down my stomach until he reaches my clit. He puts light pressure on the small bud and that orgasm that’s been there, waiting on the cusp, flickers to life.
I’m a begging, panting mess beneath him, and he watches me with an intense stare filled with lust and hunger. For some reason, it brings me to the brink when our eyes lock. My hips fly off the table and he slows the rhythm slightly as my vision goes black and ecstasy fills my veins.
Once he knows I’ve come, he removes his hand from my clit, grabs my hips, and hammers in and out of me before his back arches and he stills inside me, coming on a groan.
I lie sweaty and exhausted below him as he slowly withdraws out of me, leaning forward and kissing the valley between my breasts. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I try to gather my thoughts as I lie there waiting for him to return. That was intense. Like a firecracker that flared hot and fast before crashing back toward earth.
He disappears into the bathroom. I smile because that was some orgasm. The best ever. I’ve never been that desperate and frantic to be with a man in all my life.
A phone vibrates somewhere, and I sit up to make sure it’s not mine. I grab Cam’s phone off the couch beside the table and see Fisher’s name on the screen. Then I hear another phone buzzing, which must be mine. I drop Cam’s and search for mine.
I’m bent over when Cam returns, his hands grabbing my ass. “I like this view.”
Finding my phone, I see the text message that Presley is having the baby.
I turn to Cam, and suddenly everything is so awkward now that my family is front and center.
“Oh god.” I grab my clothes. “That can never happen again.”
“Why?” He frowns and steps forward.
“I have to get to the hospital.” I hurriedly dress and rush off the boat.
What have I done? I slept with him, and now things can never go back to normal. Especially now that I know how good we are together.