Chapter 5
Five
“ M eet me at the boatyard. Pack for an overnight,” Mick says through the phone.
I squeal, loud enough he probably pulled the receiver away from his ear. “We’re going out overnight?”
“Yeah, baby.” Bet he’s smiling.
“Mick Callahan, you are my favorite human being on the planet.”
“Better be.”
“And you realize this kind of treatment is why you get blow jobs at the wheel, captain.”
He hums. “Another reason I’m addicted to you. I’ll pretty much do anything for you now.”
I catch my reflection in the bedroom mirror—momentarily transfixed at the happiness radiating from my face.
We hang up and I busy myself getting ready, shoving clothes and toiletries into a backpack. I pull on my bikini, shorts, and a cute tank, and snag warmer stuff for when the fog rolls in and we’re out on the bay.
I nearly trip in my haste to get downstairs. My roommates study me from the living room couch in our shared condo. Kit is slumped into the cushions, using the coffee table as a footrest as she watches TV; Jaswinder sits cross-legged reading a Glamour magazine.
“Where’s the fire, Jax?” Jas says, flipping her gorgeous onyx hair off her face. Her white jeans and peasant top contrast gorgeously with her deep beige skin.
“Let me guess,” Kit muses, mischief in her warm whiskey eyes. “Off to see the wizard? Mr. Marvelous? What amazing adventure has he conjured up for you today?”
I laugh, dropping my backpack onto the carpet with a thud. “We’re sailing…but he’s taking me somewhere overnight!”
Jas drops her head back with a groan. “You’re such a lucky bitch.”
“We hate you,” Kit adds, standing up to adjust her navy sweatpants and oversized T-shirt.
“What about you, Jas? You’re dating a total hottie.”
She smiles knowingly. “True. And we’re dragging Kit out to LA Rocks tonight.”
A memory surfaces of my twenty-first birthday. We danced for hours in that club—Remy, his buddy Vinny, my roommates, and me—all drunk off our asses.
I don’t want to remember. Not today. It’s easier not to think about Remy at all. Even Mick and I agreed to stop talking about him for now.
“Against my will,” Kit inserts. “They keep trying to set me up with someone. I’m perfectly fine rolling solo. I don’t need a man to be complete. None of us do.”
I tilt my head, considering. “But there are perks.”
“Says the girl with two men who would slay dragons for her.” Kit blanches, realizing she’s stepped in it.
My smile fades. Jas shoots Kit a look.
“I’m sorry, Jax. It just…slipped out.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“No word from Remy, huh?” Jas asks .
“No,” I murmur. “He’s still in rehab without phone privileges. If he could call, he would.” Right?
The girls’ heads bob in sync.
“Go enjoy Mr. Perfect Man…and your overnight,” Jas says.
Kit waves. “Yes, fine, enjoy your man.” She raises her brows and pins me with a stare. “Until you don’t need his ass anymore.”
I smile—wider when I picture my boyfriend’s firm ass and those sexy divots at the base of his back. “I can’t imagine not ever needing Mick’s ass…and every other ass- et he has.”
We all share a laugh before I snag a soda from the fridge, pick up my stuff, and bid them farewell.
I race out to the marina and into Mick’s arms. In short order, we’re heading for open water on a sleek thirty-footer. The boat’s gleaming white hull is offset by teal accents with rich teak flooring and trim, giving it a stately vibe.
In minutes, I’ve stripped down to my new black bikini. My boyfriend’s admiring gaze roves over my body, his smile big enough to bring out that irresistible dimple.
“I was starting to have withdrawal symptoms,” he says.
“I’ve got your hit right here, handsome.”
That keeps the grin on his face.
We sail for a few hours, and I revel in Mick doing his whole seafaring gig.
He’s so at home on every boat, where his combined passion for the sea and outdoors is unmasked and unleashed.
My heart lifts as I watch the chestnut hair riffle around my captain’s contented face.
I love his hair…how soft it is, how it falls in gentle waves, how it’s lighter where the sun’s kissed it.
And I adore how he’s always kept it long, past the nape yet not all the way to his shoulders.
He drops anchor and we nibble on hard salami, fontina, grapes, and hunks of fresh baguette. He’s drinking beer, me wine. The sun warms us from overhead, light glints off the water, and the wind snaps the sails and flags from slack to attention.
A gust whips my hair horizontally, wayward strands kissing Mick’s cheek. “Sorry,” I say, trying to wrangle it back.
“You know I dig your hair. In every iteration.” He admires my golden locks for a moment then shakes two cigarettes out of his pack, clamps them between his lips, and covers the Zippo’s flame with his hand to get them lit. He hands me one while exhaling the acrid smoke.
We’re quiet as we smoke, enjoying the rocking of the boat, the sun on our faces, the ease of being in each other’s company.
After Mick pitches his cigarette butt overboard, he snags a length of nautical rope and ties a variety of knots in succession.
I’m mesmerized watching him work. “Teach me one.”
He glances up, one side of his mouth lifting.
“The bowline is an essential sailing knot. Make sure you loop on top, not the bottom, like this,” he says, demonstrating.
“There’s an old Boy Scout saying to help you remember the sequence: The rabbit goes out of the hole, around the tree, and back through the hole. ”
He pulls the knot tight, and it leaves a loop. “Now you try.”
Rope in hand, I mentally repeat the instructions and complete the knot. Satisfaction hums through me as I return the length so he can show me more.
Mick nudges my shoulder with his. “You’re a natural.” He whips through a clove hitch next like he’s done it a hundred times. He probably has. “Hold out your hands and place your palms together.”
When I’ve done as he asked, he winds the cord around my wrist .
“Here’s what I like about the slipknot.” He binds my wrists and cinches the knot snug. “You’re at my mercy.”
His gaze is teasing and heated, and just like that, my inner flame ignites.
Mick lifts my arms by the rope. “Up you go, baby.”
My eyes widen as he coaxes me to stand.
He tugs, leading me behind the large cockpit wheel, where he secures the tail of the rope over my head, concentration and a small smile etched on his face. He steps back to survey my position. The boat deck dips lower here, the wheel supporting my back and offering a modicum of privacy.
Oh my.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, stepping forward. He releases the ties on my string bikini top, and it floats to the slatted teak near my feet. My nipples harden under his gaze and the light wind caressing them. “So beautiful.”
His eyes lift to my mouth before he consumes me with one of his devastating kisses—the possessive, claiming, you-will-always-be-mine kind. Heat floods my center and my heart thumps wildly, constricting my breath.
Mick lowers his head and sweeps his tongue across my taut nipple and areola, sending another jolt to my groin. When he finishes with the left, he lavishes attention on the right. My pelvis arches toward him as a low moan escapes my lips.
He drops to his knees, and this sight alone makes me shiver in anticipation…
and more wet. He undoes the two strings at my hips and the last of my bikini falls away.
Mick spreads my legs and dives between my thighs.
I gasp as his tongue plunges into my depths and again when he sucks on the bundle of nerves pulsating from his touch.
I pant his name like a mantra. Mick, Mick, Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiick .
His groans of pleasure fuel mine. “God, I love the taste of you. ”
Our eyes meet when he stares up at me, pupils blown, all but eclipsing the gray. “And the way you look right now, baby? Filthy. I’m never letting you off this boat.”
I’d like nothing more than to sail off into the sunset with this man and never look back.
Lust hazes my vision as he works his glorious fingers and tongue in tandem on a body he’s mastered. My orgasm rips through me, my legs shaking and buckling in its wake.
Stars appear behind my lids as Mick rides it out. Before my spasms abate, he whips me around, grabs my hips, and steadies me. He glides his tip through my drenched center, and I back toward him, begging for more.
He doesn’t make me wait, ramming his hard cock all the way in and stealing my breath. Our moans commingle then dissipate into thin air.
“Goddamn, I love how we fit, how you hug every inch.”
“Yes,” I pant. “You’re perfect.” Us together? Sublime.
He roars out his satisfaction and then gives me more. And more. And still more, fucking me like it’s our last day on earth. I relish the fullness of him, how we connect, the rightness.
The boat rocks underneath us, the sun adding heat as sweat beads on our skin. My moans and his grunts are a porn movie soundtrack, and at his mercy, I’m the sexiest woman alive. Naked. Exposed. Bound. All his to play with, and I like how he’s using me, possessing me, claiming me.
God, he’s fucking me hard. My lashed wrists wrench with his thrusts. He’s not gentle and the rope burns, but I want every ounce of carnal pleasure edged with that delicious sting.
The exquisite tension escalates. He’s close.
Give it to me. Give it all to me.
Mick grunts loudly and explodes into me, grinding his hips against my shaking legs and bucking through his release. He collapses over my back, one of his arms snaking down around my torso to stabilize us as our breathing steadies .
“You okay, baby?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I rasp. “God, yes.”
Mick reaches up and easily undoes the knot, freeing my hands. Pulling me into his lap on the nearest bench seat, he holds me as we finish coming down, and I savor our connection and the comfort of being in his arms.
He lifts my chin and kisses me deeply, sharing what’s left of me on his tongue and infusing so much love with his gentle probing. He inspects my wrists. “You sure you’re alright? I didn’t hurt you?”
Through a wondrous, post-coital daze, I caress his cheek. “Not even. That was…amazing.”
His relief gives way to his one-sided smile. “Good. I’ve got lots more ideas—and rope. Especially once I get you back to my bed.” His eyes gleam, jump-starting my just sated girl parts.
“You can do whatever you want to me. I’m yours.” I press my lips against his.
We sunbathe, kiss, and talk more before we sail into a deserted cove for the night. We steer clear of tough topics, and it’s not difficult. Being together is effortless, every moment solidifying our love and weaving it into something stronger.
That night, rocked gently by the Pacific, we fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.