chapter SIX #4
Like a rag doll I float over to him, dragged by his impressive strength until I am gently lodged in the space in between him and the helm. Asher encloses his body around mine, my body nestled in between his strong thighs, my back pressed against his solid torso.
My breath hitches when his arms swing around each side of my body, leaning down to place his hands over mine.
He raises them and places my left hand on the wheel in front of us, and the other on the throttle to the right.
His chin rests just above my head making me feel like I’m wrapped in a security blanket of rock hard silk.
His mouth grazes down the side of my head until its nestled just above my ear. “Ready?”
I swallow and try to tame my breathing, which is still erratic but for completely different reasons than it was earlier. All I can do is nod my head.
His hand gently squeezes mine and it lowers the throttle a notch.
My body leans back into his with the pushback and I’m rewarded with the feel of his rumbling chest against my back.
Sensing I’m okay, Asher guides my hand down the throttle, pushing into another gear, until we are back to the increased speed we were at earlier.
My spine stiffens at the pace, and he must feel it because he releases his left hand from over mine at the helm and snakes it around my waist, holding me tight to him.
Okay, so now, I cannot focus on anything except his hand settled on my lower belly.
And it feels good. Very good.
Molto buona.
Our hands move the throttle down one more notch and our bodies have become so melded we are practically one.
Asher releases the throttle and puts his right hand on the wheel and drives us over the current, taking slight turns when he feels I’m ready. I know he knows I’m ready because his left hand is holding me so tightly he can practically feel my pulse.
The feel of him is starting to become second nature; I relax a bit and take in the action in front of me. Maybe it’s the feel of Asher around me, or perhaps it’s the fact this boat is made to drive this fast. It’s a virtual tank. Whatever the reason, I am starting to actually enjoy the ride.
The speed is exhilarating.
He takes a hard turn and my heart nearly leaps out my throat in fear.
But when we’ve straightened back out, I laugh out loud and ask him to do it again.
He does it again, and again. Water sprays around us and we get a little wet.
This causes me to laugh louder as I wipe the droplets away from my face.
The island of Capri is a distant pebble and I’m okay with it.
We glide across the water and the speed we are driving isn’t causing me anxiety.
I would tell Asher he can release me but, the truth is, I really like having his arm around me.
I’d never tell him that and I will never get an opportunity like this again.
For now, I’m just going to ride the waves.
I don’t know how much time passes when he turns the wheel and starts pointing us back toward the island.
As our approach grows closer, he lowers the speed, and I try to hide my disappointment when my blanket of Asher is removed as he takes the seat behind him.
I am about to move over to my seat, but he grabs my waist again and pulls me back into him so I’m cushioned in between his legs.
When I am snuggly in place, he lowers his hand so it’s resting on my hip.
“You drive. I’ll be right here to make sure you don’t run us into ground.”
Normally, I would be apprehensive to do something like drive a boat. I don’t like to do anything out of my comfort zone. But with him behind me, I feel confident.
We circle the island, continuing west and then north, completing the grand tour we were set out on.
I tilt my head back every now and then to ask Asher which direction I should drive or if I am too close to a rock.
He guides my hands gently and helps me keep the boat on a safe path and steady in the water.
We pass the Blue Grotto and the line of boats of tourists waiting to go in. I thankfully decline Asher’s offer to see what’s inside. Not only would I feel bad going without Leah, but I cannot risk another episode like I had yesterday.
By the time we are heading back east, completing our circle of the island, I am so at ease at the helm I don’t look back to ask for help.
We pass Devon’s boat and I, once again, marvel at how impressive it is.
From this direction I can see the front of the boat where the two-story glass room I know so well sits.
It must be amazing to have your own sanctuary of music to go to whenever you want.
I’d love to be able to stand in front of that glass window, looking out at the sunset over the sea and play the melodies of love and drama and laughter and tears.
I’ve played in symphonies and concert halls, but to play to the sunset, now that would be amazing.
With my head arched all the way to the left as I look at the yacht, I catch Asher watching me, and I turn my head back to the waterway in front of me. He releases his hold on my hip, and I instantly miss the warmth.
It’s why I shouldn’t be surprised my spirits fall as we approach the Grande Marina. Our tour is ending and we have to dock. I take a seat in the chair to his left and watch him skillfully pull the boat up to a stone landing.
When we are close enough, he leans his body overboard to secure a rope to the spindles in the ground, and I check out the way his shirt rides up with the arch of his back. His body swings back around toward me so I stand at attention and hide the fact I was just checking him out.
Asher brushes his hands against each other. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Paige.” His voice is formal and dismissive. He still has on his sunglasses, but I can tell he is purposefully not making eye contact with me. I don’t know if he’s in worker mode or if I have done something to offend him.
“I had a great time,” I say.
“It was no problem. Have a good day.”
The curtness in his voice tells me my presence is no longer wanted. I move to the back of the boat. My hand on the railing, I start to make my decent to the dock, but I stop and turn around.
“Did I do something wrong?”
His arm swings around to rub the back of his neck, his other resting on his hip. With his head down, he pauses a moment and then rises to ask me a question. “Were you disappointed when I showed up this morning and not Devon?”
The question catches me off guard. The truth is, I was disappointed this morning. When I saw him I was reminded of the scene I caused yesterday. If I could, I would have turned around and gone straight to the hotel because he unnerved me.
He still does but for a different reason than he did yesterday.
I slant my head to the side, confused. “Why would it have mattered?”
Asher’s scrutiny over my response causes me to gawk back at him and wait for a reply. Those stern eyes are set in as if they’re looking for an answer in mine.
A beat . . . two beats . . . three. He doesn’t answer.
So I do the only thing I know how to do lately. I retreat.