Mine Until Moonrise

by Jennifer Bernard

“Okay, but we can’t get distracted.” Her voice had turned breathy. “I really don’t want you riding to my rescue like a knight in shining…boat paint. I’d rather have you be my nemesis than my savior.”

  The fragrance of her hair was driving him crazy, but he kept his focus on her words. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  “I mean, I’m grateful that you rescued me from that storm.”

  “I can’t promise not to do that again.”

  “Of course not. That’s different. I’m talking about the business, my place here, that sort of thing.” She put her hands on his chest to give herself some space, and he took a step back. Obviously she had something important to say and it wasn’t her fault he got a hard-on every time he was alone with her. “I want to do this on my own. Dev always undermined me. He made me feel less than capable. Like a scattered student who didn’t understand the real world.”

  Her mention of her ex made him remember that he still had the man’s business card in his pocket. It had the weight of a guilty conscience. Irritated, he said, “I’m not your ex.”

  “See, that’s the thing. When I first met you, I thought you were just as arrogant as Dev. I thought you’d be the last person I would ever want to get involved with. I was completely wrong about that, obviously.”

  She ran her hand down his chest, lingering on his stomach muscles, no longer pushing him away. He liked this direction much better. “Go on.”

  “You’re very different from Dev. But I’ve worked really hard to stand on my own two feet. I get antsy when it seems like that’s being threatened. So, I’m sorry. The coupons are a great idea and I really appreciate the support.”

  He blinked at her in confusion for a moment. “Wait.” He captured her wrist. “So this is an apology?”

  “Yes. What did you think it was?”

  “I thought we were fighting.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose we were fighting at first, but then I realized I was freaking out over nothing so now I’m apologizing. And explaining.”

  Amusement filled him, along with something like fierce affection. He shaped her waist with her hand. “You really like to talk things through, don’t you?”

  She laughed out loud. “You should see me in mediation. I’m a beast.”

  Under the strokes of his hand, he felt her tension give way to surrender. Her morning-blue eyes, shadowed by dimness of the corner, smiled into his.

  “I really am sorry. The whole thing was so sweet. All of it. Including your part, whatever it was.”

  “Any chance we can stop talking now?” He cupped her ass and pulled her lower half toward him.

  “But this is a big deal. We just survived our first fight.”

  “We’ve been fighting since we met.”

  “Our first fight as a…you know. Two people who are sexually involved.”

  He burst out laughing. “You really have a way with words. Say it, babe. Our first fight in a…”

  “Couple-ish sort of partnership otherwise known as a relationship?” The smile curving her lips sent a shot of heat to his groin.

  “Okay, that’s it. No more talking.” He crowded her up against the wall and with one hand, pinned her arms over her head. “I locked the door. No one can see us. I want you bad and I want you now. You good with that?”

  She nodded breathlessly. With his free hand he fondled her breasts. Rough and hungry, showing her how much he wanted her, he plumped up her flesh and squeezed her nipples together. Her sharp breath and pumping hips told him she liked this, that she ate up the edginess.

  He pumped up the volume and kneed her legs apart. “Face the wall so I can take you from behind,” he growled. He loosened his grip so she could follow that command. She turned and rested her flushed cheek against the cool wall.

  He moved his hands to her hips but she left hers where they were, over her head, palms spread open. Her chest heaved with her excited breaths.

  Reaching around her front, he tweaked her nipples into diamond-hard peaks. That pebbled flesh rolling under his fingertips made him wild. He dropped one shaking hand to the front of her work pants and undid the snap and the zipper. As soon as he plunged his hand inside he felt the steam heat already building.

  “So wet for me,” he whispered in her ear. He tugged her earlobe with his teeth, like a lion claiming its prey. “I love how you get so hot for me.”

  She gave a wordless squeak and pushed against his hand. “You want to come already, you wild thing? Want me to pinch that clit for you? Make it all plump and juicy?” Moisture sprang under his fingers with every word he spoke. Her creamy essence slid onto his hand. Ah God, it was sweet to feel her so willing and responsive under his touch.

  “Pinch it,” she murmured. “Touch me.”

  He found the hot little bundle of nerves, pinned it between his thumb and finger and rubbed—gently at first, testing how much she could take. When she moaned and thrust her ass toward him, he increased the pace. Keeping his thumb firmly planted on her pleasure center, he used his other hand to pull down her pants and expose the creamy flesh of her hips and rear. He skimmed lightly across that sweet skin, each curve enticing him further.

  He needed to be inside.

  “Stay right there,” he whispered hoarsely. “Gotta put a condom on.”

  Even though she gave a moan of protest, she let him go. She slumped against the wall, panting, her exposed flesh pale in the shadows. He dug in his pocket for a condom. Ever since the storm, he’d taken to carrying one with him at all times. His chances with Megan were as rare as a summer storm, and he wasn’t going to miss another one.

  Lightning fast, he unrolled the condom onto his straining shaft.

  “What’s taking so long?” she complained, peeking over her arm.

  “I just set a speed record for condoms, what are you talking about?”

  He came back to her and picked up right where he’d left off—she let out a cry as he touched her hyper-sensitized clit again. “Sorry. Too rough?”

  “Sort of. Not rough exactly, just—you surprised me.” He pulled his hand away and licked his own thumb, then tried again. This time she moaned in pleasure as he slid through her folds to the sweet spot. He found a rhythm she seemed to like and stroked her until shudders racked her body and her hands clenched into fists against the wall.

  “I’m coming inside you now,” he growled into her ear. “I want to watch you come apart. I want to hear you shout.”

  “Is…it…”

  “No one can see or hear you. It’s just us. You and me and this hot little clit of yours.” He increased the speed of his strokes and watched her body jolt against the wall. “Step back a bit. Toward me. But keep your hands on the wall.”

  He needed the right angle and for that, her ass had to be right in his lap. She did as he instructed, with a little help from him. “Perfect. God, you’re fucking sexy. I want to take you so hard…”

  With one hand still deep in her folds, massaging and stroking, he used his other hand to guide himself to her entrance. The slick channel gave way for him. Her body seemed to pull him in, deeper and deeper, as if some magnetic force was at work. Lion-like, he hunched over her, using the strength of his thighs to readjust to the perfect angle.

  And there it was. The exact place he wanted to be, so deep inside he wanted to never leave. The world reduced itself to nothing but intense sensations … long, slow thrusts…deep moans…slippery flesh…

  She came just before he did, tipping over the edge into a series of convulsions that rippled through the flesh enclosing him so tightly. The fierce grip of those spasms felt like a fist, like a command, and even though he wanted more—so much more—he wanted this pleasure to last for hours, days—he gave into the demands of her body and plunged off the cliff. A waterfall of pleasure caught him as he fell. Round and round he floated, dizzy and wildly blissed out.

  His orgasm seemed to touch off another round of tight contractions inside her. He kept the momentum going and filled her with his
cock. Her clit pulsed against his fingers—so delicate yet so fierce.

  When the tension drained from her body and she relaxed boneless in his arms, he gently pulled out of her. He tugged up her jeans and removed his condom. She rolled over so her back rested against the wall and finished fastening her pants.

  “Be right back,” he told her. The tiny bathroom was in the Jack Hammer side of the office.

  “Wait.” She clutched at him, peering around his body. “Carla just came back.”

  “Shit.” He tried to fasten his jeans but with a handful of condom he couldn’t manage it.

  “Stand still,” she ordered him in a whisper. She zipped up his jeans and fastened the top button.

  “Bra.” He jerked his head toward her top as Carla’s voice came toward them.

  “Yoohoo! Anyone around? I brought extra fries from Crabbie’s.”

  He blocked Megan’s body as she quickly tucked her breasts safely back into her bra and pulled down her top. The neckline was stretched too loose and there was drool on her shoulder. Had he drooled on her? Or was that from when he’d fastened his teeth on her collarbone?

  Note for the future: no sex in a goddamn shared office.

  Scratch that. Sex anywhere and anytime they could manage it. He wouldn’t take this back for anything.

  He grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. “Put this on. You look disheveled.”

  “What about your hair?” she hissed as she pulled on her fleece jacket. “Hi, Carla! Oh, are those fries? I’m starving.”

  Carla waltzed into the Forget Me Not section of the office with her Styrofoam container. “So weird, the front door was locked. Good thing I had my key with me. Megan, aren’t you hot in that jacket?”

  “Oh you know me. California girl. I’m always cold.”

  Carla narrowed her eyes at her for one suspicious moment, then turned her gaze on Lucas. “You two aren’t getting into a fight back here, are you? You really can’t be trusted alone, can you?”

  “No, we definitely can’t,” Lucas said soberly. Megan disguised her smile with a cough. “I should get going. Think about what I said, Megan. I think you’ll come to see that I’m right.”

  “Oh really?” Her wide eyes sparkled at him. “I think you’re going to have to do much better than that.”

  “Is that a challenge? I accept.”

  Grinning, he went to grab a French fry from Carla’s container, only to remember just in time that he still held a condom gripped in his fist. He switched hands, but not quite smoothly enough.

  “What’s in your hand?” the receptionist asked curiously.

  “He hurt it,” Megan blurted at the same that he said, “none of your business.”

  “Men,” Carla said as he strode out the door. “Why is it so hard to admit they get hurt? They think they’re Superman. Band-Aids are next to the sink!” she called after him.

  In the bathroom, he disposed of the condom, washed his hands, then met his own eyes in the mirror. And started laughing so hard his balls hurt.

  Chapter Thirty

  Over the next weeks, Megan lived for those stolen moments of pleasure in the arms of Lucas Holt. It wasn’t always about sex—often it was just a kiss in the alley that ran behind the boardwalk businesses, or a quick chat while hosing off their boats.

  The rest of life continued in the background, almost like a dream. When Ruby wasn’t with Megan on the Forget Me Not, she usually stayed with Hunter and his mother, Grace, at the Wild North office. Megan and Grace settled into an easy handoff routine. Megan would text Grace when she reached the breakwater and Ruby would head down to meet the Forget Me Not at the float. That bit of independence thrilled Ruby to no end.

  Word spread about the lost baby otter who had imprinted on the marker buoy. All the tourists wanted to take videos of him as the Forget Me Not cruised past at the required safe distance.

  Megan made yet another version of her brochure, adding “Choice of 20+ coupons,” and left them everywhere around town, from the airport to the Chamber of Commerce. Between the coupons and the otter, she finally saw an uptick in bookings.

  While she wasn’t yet operating in the black, she could at least imagine it happening soon. So she emailed the movie producers and told them the Forget Me Not wasn’t for sale. But the shoot had been postponed due to a cast change, so they told her they’d check in with her again in a few weeks. Apparently people rarely said no to movie money.

  She and Lucas made a tiny bit of progress with Boris. Lucas went online to research gifts for chickens and came up with something amazing—a custom-made basket for Boris’ bike. It had a built-in water bowl and a plastic dome for when it rained and a self-serve feeding contraption that responded to a chicken’s pecking.

  Boris was bowled over by the gift. He told everyone in the harbor about it, and began following Lucas around with an expression of awe, as if he was a god on earth.

  Megan didn’t entirely disagree with that—for her own reasons.

  One day Lucas invited her to the homestead so she could pick through his father’s stash. She met his mother and the yak and the cows. Jane Holt watched with interest as she picked up one item after another—a propane cookstove that would be useful for longer cruises, a Hudson Bay blanket that needed a serious cleaning.

  She couldn’t believe the sheer amount of stuff Jack Holt had left behind.

  “You can’t call it stuff,” Lucas informed her.

  “That’s right. These are ‘resources,’” Jane Holt agreed. “If we get cut off from the rest of the world, all this could come in handy.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “It’s possible. Strange things happen…”

  “…near Lost Souls,” they all finished. Even tough Jane, in her corduroys and steel-toed boots, laughed.

  “There’s still so much here,” Megan marveled. “How much have you gotten rid of?”

  “Being generous, between one and two percent,” he admitted. “It’s a process.”

  No wonder it was taking a while for Lucas to wrap things up at the homestead.

  Which was fine with her. She didn’t want anything to change. Right now, everything was perfect just the way it was.

  An unusual warm spell held Lost Harbor in its grip. Long days of nothing but sunshine made the big storm seem like a distant memory. The grocery store ran out of kiddie pools and fans, and paddle board rentals skyrocketed. Megan loved the heat. The Alaska summer usually skidded by like a runaway skateboarder, but the endless bluebird skies made it seem as if this one would last forever.

  The one fly in the cream of this perfect stretch of summer days was that Ruby refused to share what was on her mind. Whenever Megan tried to ask, Ruby would shake her head and run off to play with the latest crazy puzzle Dev had sent her.

  “If something’s bothering you, I want you to tell me,” she lectured her daughter one evening after a busy day on the water. “If it’s in the middle of the night, or I’m busy with the boat, it doesn’t matter. You’re the most important thing, you understand?”

  “Yeeeeessss, Mom. I know.” Wasn’t her eight-year-old too young for that irritated tone of voice? Shouldn’t she wait until middle school?

  And she skipped off to splash in the Ariel-themed kiddie pool Megan had set up on the deck.

  Megan settled into the Adirondack chair with a glass of white wine and watched her daughter.

  It was past ten o’clock but with so much light it could have been six or seven. She really should get Ruby to bed, but her daughter was having so much fun Megan didn’t have the heart to end it.

  She debated texting Lucas but knew that he was busy with an extra-large charter group—an extended family that had flown up from Louisiana to fulfill their grandfather’s lifelong dream of fishing in Alaska. The Jack Hammer crew had planned some extra events for them—a bonfire on the beach, a clambake, a sunset singalong at midnight.

  Her phone buzzed with a text. Her instant excitement plummeted when she saw it wasn’
t Lucas, but Dev.

  Test results came back. Ruby is testing at college level in math.

  Her heart sank even further. Dev was really pushing this “our kid is a genius” line and she didn’t like it at all.

  We already knew she was good at math.

  Now we know how good. You can’t deny it. You can’t hold her back anymore.

  She’s 8. How am I holding her back?

  Ruby stomped across the pool, sloshing water over the sides onto the deck. Good thing it was weatherproof. Megan snapped a quick photo and sent it to Dev. She’s good at playing too. How cute is this?

  Is that safe? What if she slips?

  Megan laughed out loud, causing Ruby to look over in surprise. “Sorry, sweetie, just a joke your dad told.”

  She texted back, You’re nuts. It’s a kiddie pool. Didn’t you ever play in a kiddie pool?

  Rigidly overprotective with a dose of judgmental Dev was her least favorite version of her ex. Didn’t he want Ruby to have fun and explore new things? Why did everything have to be about her IQ or her math talents?

  Ruby told me about the storm. What if you’d died? You need to be smarter.

  That was a freak storm and my boat held up fine.

  She left out the fact that she also could have died in that admissions office shooting on a normal day at work. She didn’t want to talk about that.

  I’m serious. You need to model wiser behavior for Ruby. You’re too impulsive. Why were you even out on the water during a storm?

  Stricken, she remembered her brief debate that morning about whether it was safe to go out. Was Dev right?

  Don’t worry, Ruby takes after you when it comes to caution. She’s never impulsive.

  She wished she could throw her damn phone in the kiddie pool, but Dev would find some way to hold that against her in the next mediation session.

  That little text exchange totally ruined her glass of wine. Why was Dev in such a mood? She wondered if something had gone wrong at work. He often lashed out at her when that happened. She hadn’t really picked up on the pattern until lately, once she’d seen a different way of operating.