He pushed his fingers deep inside of her and felt for the right spot that he knew would make her come apart. And she did. She cried out, and shuddered, and he stayed with her to help her ride out the waves of pleasure that overtook her. He worked quickly, and pulled away from her, shedding the rest of his clothes. Thankfully he’d been optimistic and put a condom in his pocket before coming to her room. He pulled it out, and within a couple of seconds, he was sheathed in the latex, ready to take her.
Celia was still panting, her eyes heavy-lidded, but she gasped when he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him so her thighs straddled his hips as he kneeled on the bed. He raised her up and then lowered her onto his dick. Her heat surrounded him, and he almost came immediately, and he groaned heavily into the crook of her neck, giving himself a moment to regain his composure. He inhaled her scent, tasted her shoulder, as she panted in his ear. Celia commanded the attention of every one of his senses. He raised and lowered her on his cock, using her body to seek his pleasure, fucking her from below.
He’d promised to take his time, but he couldn’t. His desperation for release took control of his body and when he knew Celia was close again, he doubled his efforts and his speed, furiously pumping into her. She came again with a yell, and for the first time he wondered if they’d been loud. There was no doubt that anyone standing outside the door could hear what they were doing. But he didn’t give a shit. Celia could be as loud as she wanted, as long as he was the one making her cry out. His own release took over his body, and his muscles stiffened, and he groaned into her shoulder.
He held on to Celia, staying inside of her, as his heart rate returned to normal. She pulled back and they looked at each other. There was no noise in the cabin that he could hear beyond their breaths and the pounding of his heart. The gentle lapping of the waves moved them.
“Quin...” she said, her voice a whisper.
She didn’t get to finish her thought, however, because they heard the heavy footsteps in the hall outside her door. Jared and his other guests were heading to bed, apparently. Both of them snapped their eyes to look at the door.
“Shit,” he muttered. He’d completely forgotten where he was. If Jared found him in Celia’s bed, what would that mean for the distribution deal? Was he about to let his dick screw up the business again?
“Did you lock the door when you came in?” she asked in a panicked whisper, disengaging from his grasp. She gathered her dress as he threw the condom away.
“No, I don’t think so. It’s not like he’ll just walk on in, though.”
The look she gave him told Quin otherwise. “Are you fucking serious?” he asked, zipping his pants.
“I wish I wasn’t. He walked in on me earlier today,” she told him.
Quin cursed. “Jesus Christ. He must not have realized that it was your room, right?”
“What?” She froze in the middle of getting dressed, and he knew that he’d misspoke. “Are you serious? Why are you making excuses for him?”
Sure, Jared invited Celia onto his yacht, and the guy was a piece of shit, but he wouldn’t force himself on her, right? “You’re his employee. He wouldn’t just walk into your room, would he?”
“You don’t believe me? I think we’ve already established that he wants to sleep with me.”
“I don’t think you’re lying. What would he have to gain from doing something like that? I just don’t understand.”
“Because you aren’t a creep.”
“Want me to kick his ass for you?”
She shook her head, and from the distrusting look on her face, he wondered if he’d blown it already. “Don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t telling the truth,” he told her.
“I know. But the old-boys club runs deep. Men stick together—that’s a sad fact of life.”
“Celia, that’s not it.” He thought back to his conversation with Jared, where he said why he’d invited Celia, but had thought that he was just being a blowhard, trying to impress him and everyone else at the table. Maybe Jared wasn’t on the up-and-up, but that didn’t mean he’d intentionally walked in on Celia, right? Why would someone jeopardize his life and business to proposition an employee? Quin wondered if he was being naïve. “I’ll talk to him.”
“No. Don’t. I’ll take care of this on my own.”
“I don’t like it,” he said. He softened in his initial reaction to her implication. “I don’t like you being here.”
“I kind of have to be.”
“Why? Because he’s your boss? Are you afraid for your job? Fuck, it’s just money. I’ll give you a job the distillery.”
“It’s not just that. It’s bigger than my job.” She stopped talking abruptly. “Please, you have to promise that you won’t do or say anything to Jared.”
“There’s something going on here. What is it?”
“I can’t explain it now but trust me. I’ll be fine.”
He had no idea what she was talking about or what she had in the works, but if it meant that she didn’t want him throwing the guy overboard, he wouldn’t. Unless she was in line for a promotion. A darker thought occurred to him—that she really was sleeping with him. Was that why she was being so secretive? But he pushed that from his mind. There was no way Celia would let Jared Foster touch her. Right?
No. He corrected himself almost immediately. He was almost embarrassed for even thinking it. There was no way Celia was sleeping with her boss. She may have something else up her sleeve, but sex for a promotion wasn’t it.
“Rexford?” It was Jared’s voice, coming from the hallway.
“I left my stateroom door open,” Quin explained. “It’s obvious I’m not in there. I’ve got to get out of here.” He took one last look at Celia. He knew they had a lot more to discuss, but first he had to actually put the business to bed. The last thing he wanted to do was waste any time with Jared Foster, especially when he could be spending time with Celia. But the sooner he did that, the sooner he would be done with Jared, and at least he knew that if he was keeping the man busy, he wouldn’t be free to bother her. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Rexford!” Jared yelled again, not caring that people were probably sleeping in the neighboring rooms.
Quin listened at the door for just a second. The hallway had grown quiet, but he knew he’d misjudged the silence when he opened the door and came face-to-face with Jared.
The other man looked past him at Celia in her room. He said, “Rexford, I was looking for you.”
“Were you? I thought you were enjoying your cigars out on the deck?”
“We did. You should have been there,” he told him.
“I had some work to take care of.”
Jared nodded. His face was impassive, but he cast another look into Celia’s room. “Work? Is that right?”
Quin shut the door and stood in front of it, straightening his posture and folding his arms across his chest, making it known to the other man that he was standing between him and Celia. “Did you want to discuss a business deal?” he asked. “That’s why I’m here, after all.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about it. But it’s a little late for that now.”
Quin’s heart pounded. Had he blown the deal entirely because Jared had seen him coming out of Celia’s stateroom? What would he tell Reid? Idiot! he cursed himself.
“Let’s leave it until tomorrow. I don’t like to discuss work this late in the evening.”
“Right. It’s probably best to be well-rested.”
“If we get around to discussing work in the next couple of days, great.”
“And if not?” Quin asked.
“Not everything is meant to be, I guess.” Jared seemed to be distracted. He nodded at the closed door. “What wer
e you doing in Celia’s room?”
“She had an issue with the sink in her bathroom,” Quin said, lying easily.
“There’s a crew to take care of things like that.”
Quin shrugged. “No need to bother the crew. It was a simple fix.” He smiled broadly, hoping to take Jared’s attention from Celia’s door. “Are you headed to bed already, Foster? I’ve still got some of thoseCuban cigars to share.” He walked past Jared, patting him on the front pocket where he kept the cigars—a show of dominance for himself. “Let’s go. We’ll have a little conversation.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A FEW HOURS LATER, Quin sat alone on the deck, watching the stars. He had spent that time drinking rum and smoking cigars with Jared. No matter how many times he’d tried to bring the conversation around to rum, the topic never stuck. Jared would bring every topic back to his amazing life—the women, the money, the fancy big-boy toys. Jared had no substance, no business sense, and had lucked into his position of owner and CEO of a hugely successful company through nothing more than the dumb luck of being born to the right family. Before Quin could manage to acquire any sort of conditional distribution deal, Jared lolled to the side, drunk off his ass, and said he needed to go to bed, where he presumably passed out in his stateroom.
Quin missed Celia and wanted to go to her. But he couldn’t pull himself from the sundeck of the yacht. If he went downstairs, he knew he would skip his own door and go right to Celia’s. He wanted her again. In the close confines belowdecks, Quin knew that if he kept messing around with Celia, Jared would surely catch them together. And he knew that if Jared caught them together any deal he hoped to make would be completely squashed, and repercussions would fall upon Celia, as well.
The boat bobbed on the ocean, and despite his frustration it lulled him into relaxation. Or maybe it was the half-empty bottle of rum that sat at his side. He poured a little more into his glass and sipped—their aged spiced honey batch was one of their best. Gemma had worked her ass off to create it. There were limited bottles, and they were in high demand, and he’d still brought one for Jared—and the man had guzzled back a couple of glasses without even tasting it. It hadn’t come as no surprise to him that Jared had no idea how to sip it appreciatively. He took no time for the finer things.
Quin puffed on one of the cigars. When Jared caught him coming out of Celia’s room, he’d come close to screwing up the deal with Seacoast. Jared thought he had some sort of claim over Celia, although that clearly wasn’t true. He didn’t own her. But one misstep, and Quin could say goodbye to one of the most lucrative deals the Rexfords had ever made.
But God, when he thought about Jared Foster, he didn’t want to do business with the guy. While it would be easy to ignore Jared if he was only a bit of a heel, Quin was starting to see that maybe there was something more dangerous or sinister to his behavior. And if there was, could Quin just take it all back? Could he just tell Reid the deal was off? Get off the boat and take Celia with him? But then that would prove to Reid what he’d known all along, that Quin was the family screwup who couldn’t be trusted to handle business. Sure, he was the guy who worked the room and made the connections, but some days it just didn’t feel like his position in the business was important. He needed to know that at least some of Rexford’s success was because of him.
All night, Jared had looked at him, and Quin hadn’t been able to read the meaning behind his stare at all. The man had been suspicious of him coming out of Celia’s room. Did Jared know that there was something going on between them? As if Quin had staked a claim on Celia; Jared was jealous. But Quin wasn’t going to let him anywhere near her. While Quin’s mind focused on his professional failures, they were nothing compared to how his personal failures made him feel. Even though their relationship had changed since she’d said “you’ve never been a relationship guy,” he could still hear Celia’s words as if she was next to him.
He heard light footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Celia standing at the top of the staircase behind him. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi. What some company?”
“Yeah, sure.” He moved over from the center of the mattress on the lounging pad, and she sat with him.
“Gorgeous night.”
Quin looked at Celia as she settled in next to him. She was now wearing a long red dress that looked unbelievably sexy in the moonlight. She could talk about how gorgeous a night it was all she wanted, but he couldn’t tell as long as she was there. “It sure is.” He remembered that she’d skipped dinner. “Have you eaten anything yet?”
“Yeah, one of the stewards brought a snack to my room a little while ago. She must have known I didn’t want to be anywhere near Jared.”
Quin smiled. “I don’t blame you.”
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I heard Jared come down and go to his room and slam the door. But when I didn’t hear you, I wondered what you were doing. I thought Jared might have thrown you overboard or something.” Quin laughed and drank again. “So what are you doing up here—” she nodded at the bottle “—drinking alone?”
If she’d been any other woman, Quin might have lied, told her “everything’s fine, baby,” and changed the topic. But with Celia, he didn’t want to lie. He sighed. “Sometimes I feel like the world’s biggest screwup.”
“You’re a part owner of one of the most popular spirits brands in the country, and you’re sitting on a yacht in the middle of the Caribbean. If that’s screwing up, then I’m sure there are lots of people who wished they were screwups like you.”
He thought about what she’d said. But it made him feel better. “You know Celia, we’ve slept together a couple of times now.”
“Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?”
“It’s starting to feel like we have a relationship.”
“Sex alone does not make a relationship,” she told him.
He sighed. He’d learned that lesson after his years of screwing around with women. “You’re right about that. It sure doesn’t.”
“Quin, we’ve been through this. We aren’t going to be any more than friends.”
“Friends with benefits,” he clarified.
“If that’s what you want,” she said.
He shook his head and tried to hide the desperation in his voice and sound like he was joking. “So, we hang out, we talk, we have sex. Still feels like a relationship.”
She laughed and took his glass from his hands. “Not a chance.”
She frowned, turning serious, and he regretted pushing it. “Seriously, Quin, I spent eight years trying to get over you. My heart can’t afford it.”
Quin nodded. “I know. I really screwed up back then. And I’ve apologized.”
“You have and I appreciate it. That’s why I’m letting you be my friend.”
“If just friends is what you want, then that’s what you get.”
“And you know—” she nudged him with her elbow “—if that friendship comes with more physical things, then all the better. But let’s keep it casual.”
“Casual?”
“You know how satisfying it is to scratch that eight-year itch.”
Quin laughed, but it felt hollow. He was glad to have Celia back in his life. He knew that she’d been upset but he had no idea how much he’d hurt her. But scratching an itch? That was all he was to her. She wanted casual? If that was all she was offering, then he could do that.
He sighed and looked up at the sky. “Reid is dating a woman now. She’s great. I think he’s going to propose soon.”
“Is he? That’s fabulous. He deserves someone.” She paused. “We all do,” She finished, dreamily.
“Yeah, and I’m happy for him—for both of them. But I can’t help but think that I’ll never have that.” That was the least of his issues. He wouldn’t admit on Jared Foster’s yacht that he was feeling inferior professionally. Emotionally,
that was another issue.
“What? Do you want to settle down, get married?”
“No. Not really. Not yet, anyway. But I’ve never even come close to that.”
“No? You’ve never been in love?”
“Never. Have you?”
“Just once,” she told him. “It didn’t end well.” He knew that she was talking about him. “But I like to think that when the right guy comes along again, it’ll happen.”
“That’s what I always thought,” he said. “That someone will come along. But now I’m afraid that she’s already come along, and I screwed it up.” He looked at Celia. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about her or not, but it could have been any woman. One he liked well enough for a fun weekend but pushed away before he ever got to know her. Maybe his soul mate had moved on from him and was now married with kids and a dog. He looked at Celia and their eyes connected. Or maybe she was sitting right beside him.
Quin had been given a second chance with her. But it wasn’t one that he deserved. And Celia certainly deserved better than him.
She took his glass from his fingers and poured herself a little rum. “I don’t think so. I think when the right woman comes along, you’ll know.”
“But what if I missed out on the opportunity for love and a future with a woman because I was too stupid and immature to see it?”
Celia had paused raising the glass to her lips, as if she was frozen in place. Their eyes met.
“I don’t think that you would have missed it,” she told him. “You’re a smart guy. You know how to read women.”
“Yeah, and maybe that was my problem. What if I was too consumed with sex and forgot about making an actual connection? I’ve never been close to a woman,” he confessed.
“You’ve never been close to woman? I thought we were close.”
As You Crave It Page 8