“Jack, I can tell you’re just trying to be nice, when the truth is, I’ve taken a belly flop in the hog pen and ruined the chance of us having sex.” She glanced at him. “Want to learn to whittle?”
Nobody was an idiot all of the time, not even him. “No.”
“No? I thought you said you’d like to learn?”
“I would.” He cleared his throat and gathered his courage. “But I’d rather have sex.”
Chapter Eleven
Annabelle decided she might live to see another day. After some hard thumps and bumps that sounded like the boat hitting up against something, the rocking stopped and the engine was still. She raised her head from the tiny galley sink, grabbed the damp towel she’d been using, and patted her mouth.
The floor felt unsteady, but because the dishes weren’t rattling in the cupboards, she concluded that her legs were quivering, not the floor. Rain drummed hard against the boat, but now that it wasn’t pitching so wildly, the rain didn’t seem as likely to sink them.
“Lincoln?” She sounded like a bullfrog in mating season.
“Yeah?” His feeble response barely made it through the closed bathroom door.
“You okay?”
A pause. “Define okay.”
Annabelle smiled grimly. “Alive.”
“Semi.”
“It’s a start.” She ran a little water in a glass. “Do you want some water?”
“Not yet.”
She took a sip of the water, intending to rinse her mouth and spit it back in the sink. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and swallowed the water. It wouldn’t do for Matt to see her spitting.
He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his clothes soaked, his brown eyes wary. “How’s it going down here?”
“You’re all wet!”
“Somebody had to tie us up to the dock.”
Embarrassed that she’d been so little help, she straightened her spine. “Well, we’re both fine. Thank you for getting us here safely.”
He glanced over at the closed bathroom door. “How’s Lincoln?”
“I’m fine, too,” Lincoln called through the door.
That’s my boy, Annabelle thought, more proud of Lincoln at that moment than she had been in a long time. Sometimes the boy had the manners of a government revenuer, but underneath all that swagger he had grit.
Matt didn’t look convinced about either of them. “I can get a doctor down here if you need one.”
“Absolutely not,” Annabelle said. Then she forced herself to say the next part. “How soon can we get going again?”
Matt looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Annabelle, you—”
“How soon?”
He shook his head. “Even if you were ready, we have to wait until the storm passes. From the weather reports that’ll be a while, and it’s getting late. Once it gets dark….”
“Maybe the storm will lift early.”
“I don’t think so, Annabelle.” His voice gentled. “I’m afraid we’re stuck on Molokai for the night.”
Annabelle dropped her gaze so he couldn’t read the despair in her eyes. She’d been determined that they’d find Genevieve before dark. The thought of her child out there overnight terrified her.
He continued to speak, his voice calm and soothing. “I can call for a van so you and Lincoln can spend the night in a hotel. You’ll be a lot more comfortable there, and then in the morning we can start out again.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “Thank you, but we’ll stay right here on the boat. I want to start out at first light. Besides, it wouldn’t seem fitting to be lolling around in some hotel room while Genevieve is…is…” She couldn’t put the thought into words.
“She’s okay,” Matt said. “Nick Brogan may have some unpleasant qualities, but he’s a survivor. I wouldn’t count out Jackson Farley, either. He can be absentminded, but he’s also stubborn, which could be a very good thing under these circumstances.”
“Genevieve is fine,” Annabelle said. “If she wasn’t fine, I would know.” That was the one thing keeping her going. She had no doubt that if anything happened to either of her children she’d know instantly. Her connection with her daughter remained unbroken, which meant Genevieve was alive. But she might be frightened or hurt, and Annabelle wanted to get to her as soon as humanly possible.
“So you want to spend the night on the boat?”
“Yes, please.” She should probably encourage Matt to go to a hotel where he’d be more comfortable, but she didn’t want him to do that. Once he was out of her sight, he could oversleep or be held up in some way.
“Then we’ll all stay here and leave the minute we can see what we’re doing.”
She felt like hugging him, but she didn’t move. Hugging Matt, considering how he disliked her, would be a very bad idea. “Thank you.”
The bathroom door opened and Lincoln stood there holding on to the doorframe. His face was the same color as the white streak running down the middle of his hair, and his earphones were hanging around his neck and not plugged into his ears. He looked like he’d been run over by the turnip truck, but he tried to act cocky anyway. “Hey, whassup?”
Matt looked at him. “Not much more, if you’re lucky."
Lincoln groaned. “That was heinous.”
“Sorry. But you walked right into it.”
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Lincoln smiled a little.
As Matt looked the two of them over, Annabelle could imagine what he was thinking. She and Lincoln hadn’t turned out to be very good sailors.
“I’ve listened to the weather report for tomorrow,” Matt said, “and it’s supposed to be a nice day. Neither of you should have this problem tomorrow.”
“How come you didn’t get sick?” Lincoln asked.
Matt shrugged. “Everybody’s different. I grew up here, and I’ve been around boats all my life. Nothing fazes me. But my brother, he gets sick on the Small World ride at Disneyland. He moved to Iowa so he wouldn’t have to deal with water anymore.”
“I’ll bet Disneyland’s cool.” Lincoln looked wistful.
“You haven’t been there?”
“Not yet.” Lincoln glanced over at Annabelle. “I don’t know if Mom told you, but planes freak her out. She’s all, If God had meant us to fly he would have given us wings.” He flapped his hands for emphasis.
“She told me.”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” Lincoln shot her a quick look. “No disrespect, Mom, but, like, everybody flies these days. It’s safer than driving your car.”
“But if your car starts misbehaving, you can pull over to the side of the blessed road!” Annabelle said. “It’s not like you can park an airplane on a cloud.”
Matt cleared his throat. “To be honest, I’m not crazy about flying myself. Only do it when I have to. Now, how about some Seven-Up for both of you? If that goes down, we can move on from there.”
“Thank you. That would be very nice.” Annabelle was impressed. Even though Matt didn’t like her, he’d come to her aid. Then he’d cleverly changed the subject. From her point of view he was not only handsome, but sensitive
to other folks’ feelings. Either his ex-wife was a very silly woman or Matt hadn’t revealed his bad habits yet. Of course he had some—everyone did—but they’d have to be mighty black to offset his good points.
“I guess Seven-Up would be cool,” Lincoln said. Annabelle lifted her eyebrows in warning.
“Yes, thank you,” he added quickly.
Annabelle sighed. She had an uphill battle, because if Lincoln was polite around his friends they’d make fun of him and call him a wussy. She’d listened to him belching and wisecracking when he thought she couldn’t hear him.
But that behavior wouldn’t wash when he was around her. She couldn’t let him slide into disrespectful ways or, worse yet, behavior that reminded her of the Hollow. She sometimes wondered if he’d somehow inherited the unpolished ways of the folks in th
e Hollow. But that couldn’t be true, or Genevieve would be like that, too, and she wasn’t. She was such a good girl. Annabelle’s heart contracted as she thought of her tender young daughter out there in some kind of danger, scared and cold, needing her mama.
Genevieve’s heart beat fast enough to keep time with “The Orange Blossom Special.” Even though she’d insulted Jack’s ability to satisfy a woman, he still wanted to take a shot at satisfying her. “I won’t offer you pointers or anything,” she said.
“Why not?” He took his glasses off. “I don’t pretend to be perfect at this.”
She swallowed. They were really going to do it. And what was even more amazing, she really wanted to. The steady beat of the rain and the smell of woodsmoke took her back to her days in the Hollow, back when she’d first discovered exciting things about her body. She’d lost some of that thrill along the way, but here, with Jack, the specialness was there again.
Although she knew it wasn’t true, she felt like a virgin. “I don’t pretend to be perfect, either.”
“You’d better put these in your suitcase.” He held out the glasses. “And get out—”
“I will.” She took the glasses without looking at him. As she’d imagined this event taking place, she hadn’t figured on feeling shy. Maybe it was the manly way he’d defended himself when she’d insulted him. In that moment he’d stopped being bumbling Jackson and turned into forceful Jack again. She was beginning to cherish that unexpected side of him, and when he acted like that, she got weak in the knees.
They seemed to be on either ends of a seesaw. If one of them was feeling full of vinegar, the other one turned into a bowl of cornmeal mush. Then, in a little while, they’d trade places. It was the strangest thing. Right now she was in the mush stage.
She took out the condom and then couldn’t decide where to put it.
“Just set it beside the beach towel,” Jack said, his voice soft.
She laid it in the sand near one end of the towel. Then she reached for another piece of driftwood and gave it to him. “Put this on, so the…so the fire won’t go out.”
“I can’t believe we need this fire.”
She gathered her courage and looked over at Jack. His skin glistened. Except for the fact that he had chest hair, he looked like a bodybuilder after a workout. “We’ll need it…later.”
He stared at her.
“We will, Jack. You’ll cool off eventually.”
“I don’t think so.”
She had a picture of Jack constantly hot, constantly wanting her. It made her tingle all over. “What now?”
“I think we have to make this one up as we go along.” He smiled, slow and easy. “It’s not your average sex scene.”
That smile turned her inside out. Set against his dark beard, his teeth flashed whiter than ever. She wanted him to kiss her, and she wanted it to happen in the next two seconds or she might pass out from anticipation.
“You need to come closer,” she said.
“I know. But before I get closer and forget everything—”
“You’ll forget everything?” She liked the idea that he’d go crazy with lust and turn into some wild beast. She well remembered the feeling of being ravished when he’d kissed her the first time.
“It could happen. I want you pretty bad.”
She looked down at his crotch and discovered he did want her pretty bad. That worked her up even more.
“There’s the sand issue,” he said.
She wished he’d stop jawing and do something constructive with his mouth. Like kiss her. “That’s why I spread out the towel.”
“I know, but there’s only room for one of us, so the other one has to be on top. All things considered, maybe that should be you. Then you can—”
“Are you fixing to talk me into an orgasm?” As hot and bothered as she was getting, he might be able to do it, but that wasn’t what she had in mind. She was thinking about a little foreplay.
“I don’t want you to get sand up your—” He gulped as she pulled one strap of her dress down over her arm.
She pushed down the other strap and folded her dress down to her waist. “You were saying?”
He looked like he’d been smacked upside the head with a two-by-four. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.
“You should come closer, Jack. I know you can’t get a good view from where you’re sitting. You’re a little blurry to me, so I must be blurry to you.”
Slowly, as if he’d been drugged, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled toward her. Gradually his face came into clear focus and she could see his eyes. The blue was nearly covered up by pupils wide with lust. Now he was in the bowl of mush stage.
“Don’t worry about the sand just yet,” she whispered. He gulped again.
Her heartbeat skittered, knowing that she had the power to make him speechless. “I know I promised not to give you pointers, but now would be a good time to suck on my titties.” She cradled her breasts and lifted them toward him. She wanted to feel the scrape of his teeth and the prickle of his beard. “Have a taste.”
Making a sound low in his throat that was half animal, half human, he leaned forward and ran his tongue around her nipple. Then he did it again, his tongue warm and wet as a puppy’s. He began lapping eagerly, making her nipple go from soft and full to hard and tight.
She closed her eyes. This was more like it. Jack might think he had to plan everything in advance, but some things worked out better by letting nature take its course.
When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, he made an mmmm sort of noise, as if he’d just taken a mouthful of pecan pie with whipped cream. He certainly knew how to do this part right—exactly enough pressure to send a signal down below, where the welcome party was being set up. Soon that welcome party would be in full swing, ready to greet the honored guest. Then she’d find out if a man’s thumb had anything to do with how he was hung.
But they could have a lot of fun before that moment came. Opening her eyes, she watched him enjoying himself, and that made the sensation even better. His breath fanned her breast as his cheeks hollowed and his eyelashes fluttered closed.
Then he pulled away and rubbed his mouth back and forth across her nipple, wiggling it around with his teeth and tongue until she was almost ready to come, just from that. Maybe it was the crashing surf outside, or the rain, or the cozy hideaway on a deserted island, but she’d never felt this loose with a man.
Before the ultimate could happen, he paused, like a surfer on the crest of a wave. Heart racing, she balanced with him, breathlessly waiting for what he’d do next. It was better than the Tilt-a-Wheel at the carnival.
With his lips parted, he slid his mouth slowly down one slope and up the other. The soft bristles of his beard tickled her skin, and when he closed his white teeth gently over her other nipple, she once again felt like a captured maiden being fondled by a bold pirate. She moaned happily.
Immediately he became motionless. Then he pulled back and looked up at her. “Did I…I hurt you?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Oh, no, Jack. I’ll moan if it’s good. I’ll yell if it’s bad.”
“You’re sure my beard isn’t—”
“Jack!” She was losing the pirate image, so she grabbed his head and thrust her nipple into his mouth. “Moans are good, yelling’s bad. Now back to business!”
Fortunately Jack wasn’t the kind to talk with his mouth full, so that ended the conversation. Now that they understood each other, she was free to moan some more, which she did, because he’d started that nipple-wiggling trick again.
He’d stopped before, but she didn’t want him to stop this time. She was wound up and set to chime. Maybe he needed some encouragement. “That’s…good,” she murmured.
He stopped. “What?”
She groaned in frustration. “What you were doing. The…the nipple-wiggling thing. I don’t know where you learned it, but—”
“I made it up.”
“Do it some more.”
He settled in again, and before long she was panting. She’d had no idea that she could come this way. Jack was a genius, all right. Only a genius would know how to use his mouth on her until she… oh, goodness… oh, goodness gracious… oh, for the love of all creation! She climaxed, letting out a loud moan and rocking back on her heels. She nearly toppled over.
“Gen?” He sounded worried as he grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands gritty from the sand. “Gen, are you okay?”
“I’m…in…high cotton,” she said, gasping.
“Is that good?”
Still trying to breathe like a normal person, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “That’s great! Jack, you made me come just then.”
“I did? But I didn’t even—”
“I know. Isn’t it amazing?” She gulped for air. “Whatever that thing is that you do with your mouth, you should get a patent on it.”
A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “It was good, huh?”
“Inspirational.”
“Wow. I’ve never made anyone come by just—”
“But you need some follow-up.” She’d promised herself not to give him tips, but he needed a teensy bit of help. He had the potential to become really outstanding at this.
“Follow-up?”
“So you move smoothly into the next stage.” She took a deep breath. She could hardly wait for the next stage. “You don’t want to be gloating about the first orgasm when you could be leading up to the next one.” Hint, hint.
“Oh.” That lustful expression returned. “Oh.”
“Wipe the sand off your hands. You’ll be needing them.”
While he wiped his hands on his slacks, she reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Then she pulled it over her head, rolled it up, and positioned it at the end of the towel like a pillow.
“Oh, Gen.”
“What?” She turned back to him and discovered he was all eyes.
“You’re…incredible.”
“Well, thank you, but I’m really nothing special.” She liked hearing him say that, anyway, and she was glad she’d worn her white lace bikini panties today. “You just don’t get out much.”
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