Securing Caite

by Susan Stoker

  Rocco sat on the side of the bed, clicked on the light, then reached over to pull the sheet down her body.

  Shit. He knew.

  She started to pull her hand out of her shorts, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist. Caite could feel her nipples beading under her shirt, but didn’t dare glance down to see what they looked like. She was caught in Rocco’s intense dark gaze.

  “May I?” he asked in a voice she hardly recognized. He gestured to her lap with his head, and she nodded.

  God yes. She wanted his hands on her. Needed it.

  Shifting to sit beside her with his back to the headboard, he arranged her between his legs so she rested against his chest. Then he snaked his right hand under the elastic band of her sleep shorts, and she felt his fingers tangle with hers.

  He growled low in his throat when he felt how slick she was, and Caite felt it rumble against her back. “Keep touching yourself,” he ordered.

  Helpless to do anything other than what he ordered, and horny enough to ignore the embarrassment coursing through her body, Caite started moving her fingers over her clit once more.

  She wished her shorts were gone, wanted to spread her legs apart—but she forgot everything but his touch when his thick fingers probed at her entrance. Now she was the one to groan, pressing her head back hard against his pectoral muscle.

  Without words, they worked in tandem to bring her to another orgasm. When she was close, Rocco pushed her fingers out of the way and took over fingering her clit. He’d obviously paid attention, because he used the perfect amount of pressure and knew exactly how to stroke to make her come.

  But unlike Caite, he didn’t back off the second she started to orgasm. Instead, he pressed harder, forcing her orgasm higher and longer.

  When it felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest, he finally eased his fingers off her super-sensitive clit and ran them down to her slit, smearing the wetness there, gently pressing in and out of her body.

  Caite could feel his cock hard and thick against the small of her back, and she squirmed, wanting to see him. To feel him.

  Rocco took his fingers out from between her legs and brought them to his face. Caite knew she was blushing furiously when she heard him suck them between his lips. She swore she also felt his dick twitch against her back as he licked every drop of her essence from his fingers.

  She wanted to say something profound. Wanted for once in her life not to be a dork. But of course that was a big failure. “I thought you were gone,” was what came out of her mouth.

  He chuckled under her. “I figured.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure what else to say.

  “Do not say that,” he ordered, then moved so quickly, Caite didn’t have time to respond. He had her flat on her back under him and his arms braced on either side of her head. She could only blink up at him. “Seeing you get yourself off was the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life. It was a gift. Don’t be sorry, Caite. Please, God, don’t be sorry.”

  “Okay. I won’t.” When he continued to just stare down at her, she said, “Do you…um…you can…” At a loss for words, she pressed her hips up until they bumped against his hard length.

  “I’m good.”

  “You’re good?” she echoed, confused. “But you’re still hard.”

  “I am. But I’ll take care of that in the shower.”

  She was still confused. “But…you don’t want to…?” Once again, she was at a loss for words. Caite didn’t understand him. She’d just been more intimate with him than she’d ever been with another man. She’d never masturbated in front of someone before, and she’d definitely not had someone else masturbate her like Rocco had.

  “I want to, but I told you before, I want to take my time. I want all night. We don’t have the time right now to do what I want to do to you and with you. Once I get my dick inside your hot, wet pussy, I’m not going to want to leave for a very long time. And I have plans for us today that can’t wait. So…yes, I want to make love to you, Caite. I want that almost more than I want to breathe, especially after watching and hearing you come apart in my arms. But I can wait.”

  She blinked up at him. He could wait? Was he even real? She reached up and poked him in the chest, right over where his heart was.

  He grinned. “What are you doing?”

  “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. You sure feel real.”

  “I’m real,” he reassured her, then lowered his hips until they were settled against hers. “Every inch of me is real.”

  Caite’s breathing sped up once more. “I can feel.”

  “Thank you, ma petite fée. That was a gift that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life. I know you didn’t realize I was there the first time, but trusting me to give that to you a second time is something I won’t ever take for granted.”

  All Caite could do was nod.

  “And to answer the question I can see lurking in your eyes, I didn’t go to PT today because I’ve planned something else for us. Something I hope you’ll enjoy. It’s part physical therapy for that arm, to help you get it moving more than you have been, and part selfishness on my part.”

  Caite was intrigued. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to get up and shower…and no peeking, otherwise we’ll never get out of this apartment,” he warned when the word “shower” made her smile. “Then you can get up, do what you need to do in the bathroom, we’ll eat breakfast and head out.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Sighing, but not really upset, she tried to look stern when she glared at him.

  Chuckling, he kissed her on the forehead and slowly eased his way off her. Then he blew her mind by bringing his hand up to his face and inhaling deeply as he ran his fingers under his nose. “If I could get away with never showering again, I would,” he said, more to himself than her.

  He stood, winked, and walked toward the small en suite bathroom.

  Caite threw her head back on the pillow and let out a huge sigh. “That man is lethal,” she mumbled, feeling more replete and relaxed than she’d felt in a long, long time.

  An hour later, Caite was more stressed than she’d been in a long, long time.

  “I’m not ready,” she said.

  “You’re ready,” Rocco replied calmly.

  Caite looked away from Rocco’s calm face toward the ocean. He’d brought her to a small, hidden-away beach and informed her that he was going to teach her to swim today…or at least work on her floating ability.

  “I don’t have a suit.”

  “You don’t need one. The shorts and tank top you have on will be fine.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear home.”

  Rocco turned her to face him and lifted her chin when a finger. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I packed a bag with towels and a dry set of clothes for us both. This cove is sheltered, so there aren’t any waves. I’m not going to leave your side. You can do this.”

  Caite closed her eyes and sighed. In theory, Rocco teaching her how to swim was good. But in reality, it was a lot scarier than she figured it would be. While she went through everything that could go wrong in her mind, Rocco stood in front of her silently. She felt his hands on her shoulders, kneading gently.

  She opened her eyes. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “But if I swallow half the ocean and get a brain-eating amoeba, I’m blaming you.”

  “Brain-eating amoebas are only found in fresh water. You’re good.”

  Caite rolled her eyes.

  “Come on. Kick off your sandals and we’ll get this done.”

  “You’re not going to give me any tips or instructions before we get in?” she squeaked out. She’d assumed she’d have a few more minutes to gather up her courage before she had to wade into the ocean.

  “Nope. If I give you time to think much harder about this, you’ll freak.”

&n
bsp; He wasn’t wrong.

  Rocco pulled off his T-shirt with one hand at the back of his neck. Caite had no idea how guys did that. She’d tried it one night at home, alone in her bedroom, and had ended up stretching the neck of her T-shirt and getting all tangled up in the material.

  Staring at the beautiful chest he’d exposed, Caite could only blink at him for a moment. He had a spattering of chest hair that pointed downward to his groin, and an honest-to-God six-pack. His shorts clung to his powerful thighs, and she brought her gaze back up to his face quickly, before she embarrassed herself by staring between his legs.

  He was grinning at her when she met his gaze. “Like what you see?” he asked with a smirk.

  Caite once again rolled her eyes. “As if you were worried about that.”

  He moved quicker than even she thought he could. He grabbed her behind the waist and legs and hauled her up in his arms. Caite screeched and threw her arms around his neck even as she laughed. Rocco spun them around in circles before stopping and dropping the arm that was under her knees.

  Her feet fell to the sand and she gripped his biceps tightly. She could see the veins in his forearms, and briefly had the thought that she’d never found a man’s arms sexy before…until right this moment.

  “Men have hang-ups about their bodies too, ma petite fée.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Caite reassured him. “Nothing at all.”

  He gave her a look that was so carnal, she knew she was blushing.

  “Swim lesson,” Rocco said, more to himself than her, as if he had to remind himself why they were there. He ran his fingers down her arm and twined them with hers when he reached her hand. Then he turned and tugged her gently toward the water.

  Taking a deep breath, Caite reluctantly followed.

  The water was surprisingly warm. Caite thought it would be cold for some reason. Rocco waded in up to his knees, which ended up being at Caite’s thighs by the time he stopped. Then he turned to her. “All you have to do here at first is relax. Pretend you’re lying in bed. Put your arms out to your sides and spread your legs a bit. I’m going to be right here by your side.” His hand rested on her lower back, and even through her shirt, Caite could feel the heat seeping into her skin from his light touch.

  “You won’t let go, will you?” she asked.

  He didn’t roll his eyes or laugh at her. Instead, he said, “Never.”

  Nodding, Caite took a deep breath. She’d wandered off into the city of Manama in Bahrain all by herself and had found Rocco and his friends and saved their lives. She could do this.

  She ducked down in the water until it was lapping at her neck, then she slowly lay back. Every muscle in her body was tense, and she held on to Rocco’s arm with a death grip. She made sure to keep her eyes on his face the entire time. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

  The gentle pressure of his hand on her back was constant and reassuring. He smiled down at her. “Relax, Caite. The saltwater is going to do most of the work. It’s harder to float when you’re as tense as you are.”

  Forcing the muscles in her body to unclench, Caite tried to do as he asked. Rocco’s voice was muted since her ears were underwater, but she could still hear him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. “You’re doing great, ma petite fée. I’m so proud of you.”

  It wasn’t as if she was actually doing anything, but she’d take his praise. Rocco started moving her body, but she didn’t look around, just kept watching his lips as he continued to talk to her while walking one way, then turning her body around and walking back.

  Eventually, her fingers lost their death grip on his arm and she let go of him with one hand. She let her arm relax and was surprised to find that it floated next to her body almost without her even thinking about it.

  “See? The saltwater makes your body more buoyant. Let go of me with your other hand and put that arm out to the side too.”

  Caite forced her fingers to let go and cautiously put her other arm out to her side as well.

  Rocco beamed down at her. “Beautiful,” he told her.

  Caite saw his eyes go from hers, to the hair that was floating around her head, then down to her chest. She hadn’t thought about what she was wearing until right that moment, when she saw his pupils dilate. He licked his lips and, even as he moved them around in the water, didn’t take his eyes from her chest.

  The thought of his gaze on her made her nipples tighten. Caite felt them pucker under the bra she’d thrown on that morning.

  Without warning, Rocco’s head dipped. Caite felt his hand press harder on her spine as his mouth closed around one of her nipples. She moaned.

  His mouth felt scorching hot compared to the water and air around them. His fingers dug into the flesh of her back as he feasted on her.

  She began to sit up, and Rocco immediately straightened and looked her in the eye once more. “Stay,” he ordered.

  Caite nodded and tried to relax. It wasn’t until she was once again floating on her own that Rocco leaned back down. He took the other nipple in his mouth this time, nibbling and sucking through her clothes as if he had all the time in the world.

  Caite didn’t think about the fact they were on a public beach, that anyone could arrive and see them. She didn’t think about the fact that she was floating or that Rocco was supposed to be teaching her how to swim. Every ounce of her attention was on the way he was making her feel. Sexy and beautiful.

  Her eyes drifted shut and her legs opened a little more. The rush of cool water between her thighs was both torturous and erotic at the same time. She imagined Rocco’s fingers dipping down and sliding under the elastic of her shorts, as they had hours before.

  Realizing that she couldn’t feel Rocco touching her anymore, Caite opened her eyes to see him standing right next to her, both hands up in the air where she could see them.

  “You’re doing it,” he told her. “All by yourself. I knew you could.”

  Instead of panicking about the fact that Rocco wasn’t holding her anymore, she concentrated on how it felt to be floating. He was right; it was a lot easier to float in the ocean than in the pool the last time she’d tried. Her muscles were loose and she wasn’t even really doing anything. But she was floating anyway.

  “Try moving your hands back and forth a little bit,” Rocco instructed. “In a scooping motion.” He demonstrated above her.

  She did—and was amazed when she actually moved forward. “I’m swimming!” she exclaimed in awe.

  Rocco laughed above her—and just like that, Caite’s attention was pulled from what she was doing back to the man standing at her side. She instinctively tried to sit up and her head immediately went under.

  Before she could panic, Rocco’s arms were around her, lifting her up and out of the water.

  Caite coughed a little and clung to Rocco.

  “You all right, ma petite fée?”

  She nodded. “I was swimming,” she said in an awed whisper.

  “That you were.”

  She tilted her head and said, “I’m afraid to ask what I look like now that my shirt is wet.”

  “Beautiful,” Rocco said reverently.

  “Did you plan this?”

  “If you mean the swimming lesson, yes. If you mean you in that white tank top? No. But I’m a guy, Caite. And you turn me on more than anyone I’ve ever met. I’d have to be dead not to look.”

  “You did more than look,” she said with a smile.

  He returned it. “You complaining?”

  “Only that you stopped.” The words came out without hesitation, and Caite had the momentary thought that she should be embarrassed, but she was finding that around Rocco, she felt anything but.

  He groaned. “I brought you here so you could get more comfortable being in the water,” he said, “not to seduce you.”

  “Can’t you do both?” Caite asked, rubbing her leg up and down the outside of his thigh. The coarse leg hair rubbed agains
t her sensitive inner thigh, and it made her think about how his beard would feel down there.

  “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” Rocco breathed. But he smiled as he said it. “Swimming first, then we’ll see about the other.”

  Surprisingly, his words made her relax. She really did want to learn how to swim, and hearing him say that they’d be moving their physical relationship forward was a relief. Especially since this morning.

  Caite wanted Rocco. Wanted him deep inside her and filling her up. She hadn’t realized just how much until he’d refused to rush her this morning. She was ready for him. More than ready.

  The next thirty minutes went by quickly. Rocco was an excellent swimming coach. He made her feel confident in her abilities and by the time they walked out of the ocean, Caite had mastered the art of kicking and using her arms at the same time while floating on her back to propel herself forward. All without his assistance, which felt amazing.

  Caite shivered and put her arms around her waist to warm herself. Within seconds, Rocco was there. “How’s your arm feel?”

  “It’s fine,” Caite told him with some surprise. “I forgot all about it, actually.”

  “Good. The saltwater will also help it heal a bit faster. Don’t ask why, I have no idea, but it does. Hey, what’s this?” Rocco asked, pulling her to a stop and turning her to look at her back. He traced something on her shoulder blade.

  Caite turned her head to try to see what he was talking about, but couldn’t see anything. “What?”

  “It looks like you have a bad bruise right here,” Rocco said, his brows furrowed in concern.

  “I had no idea. But I bruise easily.” She shivered again.

  “Come on,” Rocco said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side once more. “Let’s get you warm and dry.”

  Just as they got to the duffle where Rocco had dropped it on the sand, a group of men in their early twenties arrived, laughing and joking and throwing a volleyball back and forth. They headed over to the court and began to talk smack to each other.