Chapter 21
sofía
I’m going to be sick. Whether it’s the nerves or anticipation, I’m unsure.
I know he’s going to say yes—it was his idea in the first place—but the buildup is making me jumpy.
Other liveaboard passengers line up for dinner, piling their plates with food, and I wait at the end with a scant appetite, given what I’m about to do.
I’m about to take a hammer to every rule I’ve created for myself.
A mess of brown hair descends the stairs, and my heart leaps and does a small little flip in my chest. Jett scans the eating area, and when he lands on me, his face transforms into a thing of wonder and beauty.
I can’t say I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a smile like that. I hate how much I like it.
“Did you see what’s for dinner?” he asks, standing at the back of the line with me.
My mouth dries, and I’m mute as we shuffle forward. He steps in front of me, taking two plates and handing me one. “Do you want salad with the mac and cheese?”
“There’s mac and cheese?” I ask.
He nods, and for a split second—one I’m not proud of—the thought that I might be naked with him later and wouldn’t want to be bloated crosses my mind.
It’s a punch in the gut, and I try to shake it away.
He gives me an odd look before scooping a pile of gooey, cheesy noodles onto my plate and adding a small piece of chicken.
A few green beans and some salad, and he swaps the plate with the empty one in my hand.
“Sit down. I’ll grab us some silverware.”
I mutely walk to the table where our friends surround a camera, watching the video Doug captured on an earlier dive.
Sliding into a seat beside Oliver, I watch the unassuming coral until the footage flickers, mottled browns shifting to burnt red, and the animal magically appears, revealing its location.
“It’s a cuttlefish,” Charlie says. “Doug has laser-sharp eyesight, because we all missed it on the dive this morning.”
“We saw a whole school of maori wrasse, too,” Amy says, before shoveling chicken into her mouth. “And Oliver saw a whitetip reef shark.”
The Brit in question snaps his gaze to her, and after prolonged eye contact, she pulls away, asking Molly a question about cuttlefish. I elbow Oliver in the side, and he lifts an eyebrow.
“We cleared the air, I think. As much as we could.” He sighs. “It’s…fine.”
Jett appears at my side in typical fashion—silently. “What are we talking about?”
“Cuttlefish,” Oliver blurts.
Hmm.
I let the oddity go. Heaven knows I have enough shit I don’t want to talk about, so if Oliver doesn’t want to speak to Jett about his problems with Amy, that’s fine by me.
Jett misses the tension and dives into conversation about cuttlefish, and naturally, it shifts to everyone giving him a hard time.
“I can’t believe you were bitten. Shit, man, it had to hurt,” Mateo says.
“It was going for Sofía,” Jett says, his lips ticking up in a shit-eating grin. “I sacrificed myself to save her.”
I guffaw. “?Mentiroso! It took you by surprise. I tried to warn you about those vile creatures.”
“Vile isn’t a strong enough word,” Charlie mutters.
Jett laughs, a deep, throaty sound, and his infectious energy ripples through the group until everyone is laughing and the conversation shifts again. While Mateo shares his “fun facts” about microbes, I lean into Jett and whisper, “Meet me by the big light on the top deck later?”
“Why?”
I blink at him. Is he serious?
“I wanted to show you the fish.”
“Oh, can I come, too?” Amy asks. “Are they the quick silver ones that come out at night?”
“No,” I shriek.
Heads turn at my outburst. “No,” I try again, softer, less insane. “There’s not a lot of space, and you might scare them away before he can get good footage. Let’s remember why we’re here,” I chide.
Amy’s mouth pops open in surprise. Hell, I’m shocked by myself, too.
Molly examines me in a way I dislike, her head moving between Jett and me, my paranoia growing that everyone here knows I’m going to agree to Jett’s insane proposition and that I’ve lotioned and oiled every inch of my body in anticipation for tonight’s hopeful events.
Oh, god, can they tell I’m glistening?
“We should go before it gets too chilly with the wind,” I say, shoving the last of my meal into my mouth before taking his plate, too.
I haul him out of his seat and to the cabins so it appears like we’re grabbing his camera gear. But the second we’re past their odd glances and confused looks, I shove him outside and up the steps to the top deck.
“Sofía, what is going—” He stops speaking when I invade his space, the desperation to touch him overriding my senses.
My fingers itch to tangle between the loose strands of his hair, but I clench my fists at my sides. Only a few inches separate us. A mere shuffle of my feet, and I would fall into him. A strong gust of wind, and the heat of his skin would sear into mine.
“Fire me,” I breathe.
“What? No.” He shakes his head. “Why would I do that? You brought me up here to fire you?”
I track his tongue as it darts out, dragging along the seam. “It would be unprofessional if you kissed your employee.”
Jett releases an exasperated sigh. “Why does everything need to be so profess—Oh.”
“Do it,” I demand, my skin alight with the idea of kissing him again.
I’ve never been selfish like this, taking what I want even when I know the consequences are steep. But damnit, I want him in a way I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone before, and I can’t wrap my head around that level of desire.
I do know that if I think about it for too long, I overwhelm myself.
If he fires me—for the remainder of the trip—then what happens in Australia, stays here. We can pretend for the cameras, convince his followers we’re madly in love and build buzz for the episode premiere. And I can kiss him again.
Time stretches between us, and I almost give up hope that he will whisper those two little words, but with the stars as my witness, Jett mutters, almost too low to hear above the waves, “You’re fired.”
He’s still forming the last syllable when I crash into him, and his arm curls around my waist to demolish the space between us.
This kiss is nothing like I could have ever imagined—far greater than the drunken peck I offered him last night.
My heartbeat bangs against my chest, adding to the flurry in my lower stomach.
I don’t do things like this—kiss my boss not once but ask for him to fire me for the opportunity to kiss him again.
That’s a unique type of insane, to give a man that kind of power.
But with Jett, I don’t think he realizes he has any power at all.
It doesn’t matter to him, and fuck, is that refreshing.
His hand cups my jaw, deepening the connection, and my knees buckle.
The railing behind me is cool against my thighs as I lean on it for support.
Who knew he could kiss like this? From slow and probing to something deeper, more sensual, he guides our movements in a way I didn’t expect.
It’s not overt, the control he takes, but when he pulls away, I’m left breathless, desperate for more.
“So, what, for the next few weeks we’re…” He trails off, his thumb sliding across my swollen lips.
“Having fun,” I offer. “And when we get back to LA, we can go back to normal.”
The plan forms in my mind rapidly. Ideal for both of us.
We can work out the rogue emotions between us—likely intense sexual attraction that will fizzle in time—and it will only make faking for the cameras easier.
Charlie would call this a symbiotic relationship, the both of us benefiting from striking a deal.
“Having fun?” he parrots back, brows pinching together.
I press against his chest, my nipples hardening as his grip tightens. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes. “You know how to have fun, right, Jett?”
It’s a challenge, and his pupils dilate in response.
His head dips, bringing his mouth against my ear. “What kind of fun?”
The air grows taut with tension. “The clothing-optional kind.”
His grip on my waist tightens, almost painfully so. “And when we get back to LA, you go back to being my employee?”
“That’s the plan.”
A disagreeing sound rips from his throat, setting me on edge, but his tongue darts out and his head turns, skin brushing mine in a ghost of a kiss.
“I’ve never been a man who followed plans,” he admits before his hand slides down the curve of my back and he rips me forward, stealing my breath in a desperate kiss.
“It’s one of the many reasons I hired you. ”
My heart thumps—a wild, unruly beat—as he pins me against the boat railing. The chill of the metal bites into my thighs, but it’s melted by the heat pooling in my lower stomach when he presses his hips against my abdomen, the outline of him hot and hard against me.
His movements are measured, unhurried, exploratory, like he’s mapping every curve and crevice of my lips, memorizing each soft sound I offer him.
The little voice in the back of my mind screaming with a bullhorn that this is a horrible idea is nothing more than a nuisance I banish to the silent corner. She can have a say once she’s less judgmental.
I drag my nails up his neck, capturing the soft moan he offers. Strands of silky hair slip through my fingers, and heat pools in my core, each one of his touches fanning the flame.
“Room,” I demand, admiring the broad expanse of his back. Before I reach his ass, I’m off the ground and hanging over his shoulder as he books it across the deck.
He sets me down long enough to descend the narrow stairs, before I’m in the air again and he’s striding to his cabin. The air in the room cools my heated skin, and the echo of the door locking shut mingles with Jett’s ragged breaths.
Neither of us bother with the light, and I’m tossed onto the bed, heart thumping as Jett stalks toward me.
“You have no idea how badly I want you,” he admits, trailing his hands down my hips to my ankles.
My gaze flicks down to the erection pressing against his zipper. “I might have a little idea.”
Or large. Quite large.