Cross Stroke

by Elizabeth Hartey

  Fuck. I try not to let Trace see the panic in my eyes, but she can already read me like a book.

  She comes into the cabin. “What’s wrong?”

  I close my eyes. Christ. This can’t be happening again. I can’t be risking another woman’s life in a boat. Dak Andersen, fucking dipshit at your service.

  “Artic Tern, are you there? Over.”

  “Yeah…yes, Erik, I’m here. Over.” I put one finger up to tell Trace to wait until we hear what instructions the Coast Guard has given the Research Center regarding vessels out on the water.

  “The bad news is, the storm is moving in fast. Really fast. You guys are the only ones still out on the water and they don’t think you should try getting back in until the storm passes. Good news is, based on your location, you’re close enough to the Rock to head there and hunker down. Over.”

  “The Rock? Dude, that’s in the middle of open water. Will it be safe? And for how long? Over?” I’m watching Trace the whole time and she doesn’t even blink at the news from Erik. She may be the bravest person I know. On the other hand, I’m not feeling quite so brave. I’m not worried for myself, but I can’t let anything happen to her. Although, I’m sure if it came down to it, she could probably rescue my ass and hers if she needed to.

  “It could be a couple of hours, it could be all night. It’s cool, though. The main house was rebuilt and reinforced for this kind of weather. You’ll be okay and the generator will keep you on limited power if the solar power goes out. The food, water, and firewood supplies are all stocked because the Marine Life Research Center crew is scheduled to be there on Monday. You’ll be all set if you need to stay the night. It’s all good, dude. You got the codes for the door locks? Over.”

  “I got them before we went out. Over.” The electronic keypads on the doors for the facilities at the Rock are reset every week. It prevents random people out for a day of boating from wandering into the house or lab. Whenever students or researchers need to use the facilities, they’re given the codes.

  “Okay then, you should be all set. I’ll keep channel seventy-one open for you. Let us know when you make it to the Rock. We’ll be here all night if you need us. Over.”

  “Will do. We’re heading over there now. Thanks, man. Arctic Tern, out.”

  “Bernard Research Center, out.”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry. I lost track of the time and wasn’t paying attention to the weather. It’s such a bullshit rookie mistake,” I say after replacing the handset and pushing the throttle to full speed. I’ve got to get her out of this damn boat ASAP, even if the only place I can take her is a massive rock island in open water. Erik was right though. They planned for this scenario when rebuilding the research facilities on the island. We’ll be much safer there than on a boat until the storm blows over.

  “No need to apologize. I wasn’t paying attention either.”

  “Wow. You’re not even going to call me jackass or asshole or anything? I’m kind of missing your sugary names for me.” I figure a little teasing will help take her mind off of the shit situation I got us into.

  “Very funny. I’m sure we’ll be fine on the island and we can use the lab there to do our analysis. We’ll be too preoccupied to worry about the storm. No worries, jackass.” She gives me a sweet little grin after adding the name I’m getting so used to hearing, I may start answering to it instead of Dak.

  “There it is.” I smack my hand on the helm and smile. “You’re such a sweet little thing.”

  The memory of her scent when we kissed last night fills my senses, a mixture of coconut and pineapple, the intoxicating scent of a fragrant, tropical garden. I’d love a chance to lick every inch of her sweetness.

  Focus, dude. Your negligent, horny thoughts already put you in this dangerous predicament.

  Trace doesn’t seem one bit concerned about the precarious situation we’re in. There’s a good possibility I’m falling for Super Woman.

  “I guess nothing shakes you up, huh, Bambi?”

  Except me standing stark naked in front of you.

  Huh. I kind of like the idea I might be the only thing that can make her tremble. Oh for Chrissakes! Even when our lives are in imminent danger I can’t keep my mind off my dick.

  Her mood darkens and a worried expression crosses her face. “Plenty of things scare me,” she says quietly and drops her gaze to her feet.

  Great. I’m such an asshole. I succeeded in upsetting her yet again.

  “I…I’m sorry. Look, the boathouse is straight ahead.” I point toward the lighthouse. Its comforting beacon flashes every fifteen seconds. “We’ll be there soon, and the wind hasn’t even kicked up yet. We’ll be safe there until it blows over.”

  I hope.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tracey

  Mount Desert Rock is a barren rock island situated about twenty-five miles off the coast. No trees, no grass, just four buildings perched on desolate rock ledges since the nineteenth century. Now it’s used as a marine research center. A few years ago, Bernard U received a grant to rebuild and restructure the facility to make it as hurricane proof as possible and to outfit the facility with cutting edge research equipment.

  The boathouse, one of four buildings on the island, is big enough to accommodate the Artic Tern. Dak guides it into the slip and I hop out to catch the mooring lines he tosses out to me. My mind racing, I climb back onto the boat to help carry our samples and supplies into the generator shed, which was expanded into a wet/dry lab during renovations.

  Dak thinks I’m not scared of anything. The truth is I’m scared as shit. Not of the weather though. I’m panicked I’m alone on an island with this guy who’s two degrees hotter than the sun and makes me melt every time he looks at me.

  Beyond wanting him so much it’s making my lady parts ache thinking about it, he doesn’t want me. At least he said he doesn’t. Despite the fact the bulge in his pants was saying something to the contrary last night when he kissed me. And then there’s Alex. I guess whatever was going on with them isn’t going on any more. This whole situation is such a hot mess.

  “We should get right to work on the analysis and get it done before the storm hits, then we can head into the house before the wind picks up,” Dak suggests. “I’ll go radio the center to let them know we made it here and start a fire in the fireplace so it’s warm when we get in there. You want to start setting up the samples for testing?” he asks in a tentative tone.

  I’m sure he’s as uncomfortable about this whole situation as I am.

  “Sounds good.” I try to give him my everything is cool tone, which I can’t quite achieve whenever he’s near me. My heart is racing at the thought of being cozy in front of a fire with him in the light keeper’s house.

  While he’s in the house I begin the filtration process of the samples. When the filters turn green or brown I’ll know there’s phytoplankton on them, then we need to make up the slides, check cell count, do the DNA and water analysis. It’s going to be a long night. It could turn out to be a good thing we’re stuck here with nothing to do but focus on our lab analysis. Uh huh. Nothing else to do.

  When Dak comes back to the lab I’m deep into the filtration process and making up the plankton slides. He begins the water analysis. We’re so preoccupied with the work we only exchange enough conversation to tell each other what we’re doing. With the two of us working together it doesn’t take as long as I thought it would to finish up and record our data.

  “That’s the last of the data. Went pretty fast after all. We make a good team, Bambi.” He holds out his hand to give me a high five and it’s like Mother Nature sees him and returns the gesture, because the wind picks up, a reverberating crack of thunder vibrates the lab, and the rain starts pummeling the roof.

  “We better head into the house,” Dak says in a loud voice to outrival the noise of the pounding rain and wind. “We can refine all this later so we can hand it in.”

  Although there are plans to connect the hous
e and lab, construction isn’t completed. When Dak opens the lab door we grab our backpacks and make a mad dash for the house. The wind gales are so strong I’m almost lifted off my feet. Dak grabs my arm and pulls me into the safety of the house with such force I fall against his chest.

  It only takes a matter of seconds to get from the lab to the house, and even though I’m wearing a dri-fit tank top, it’s not enough to withstand the torrential rain. I’m soaked through to the skin. By the way Dak’s t-shirt has become see through and is clinging to every ripple of his chest and stomach, I can see he’s even more drenched.

  We stand motionless in place for a moment. He’s still clutching my arm and I’m pressed against him. I don’t experience any of the anxious trepidation jolting through me when I’m this close to a guy, ever since the night with Sean. Although, with the combination of my wet clothes and my breasts pressed against Dak’s hard chest, I’m unable to control my trembling.

  “Christ. You’re freezing.” Dak is the first to break the intense silence. “Let’s go.” In a swift move, he scoops me up into his arms like I’m as light as a dandelion wisp and carries me up the stairs. He carries me up the stairs! It’s like something from the cover of a cheesy romance novel. Except in this case, the heroine is dripping all over the hardwood floors.

  “I…I…c-can w-walk on my own,” I stutter out through my clattering teeth. But my disloyal body is already settling into the comfort of his strong arms.

  “Sure you can, Bambi. Your teeth are chattering.”

  I want to come back at him with some smartass remark, but he’s right. I’m so cold I can’t stop my teeth from rattling in my head. The astounding truth is, I don’t want him to let me go. For the first time in more than a year I want to stay tucked snugly in a guy’s arms.

  He takes me into the bathroom, which connects two of the bedrooms, and sits me down on the closed lid of the toilet. I’m even colder without his body pressed against me than I was a minute ago.

  I know it’s more than the physical warmth of any body I’m missing. I want Dak’s body, want him over me and in me and all kinds of ways, without soaking wet clothes separating us. I haven’t felt like this for so long it’s kind of scary.

  He toes off his sneakers and pulls the soaked shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor. I clench every muscle in my body to keep myself from falling off the toilet seat at the sight of his muscled torso. Gah. It’s the second time the vision of his smoking hot, dripping chest has scorched my vision. It’s a good thing my pants are already drenched or no doubt he’d be able to see the wet spot of arousal forming on my shorts.

  As it is, he’s so concerned about my welfare, he isn’t noticing the way I’m fucking him with my eyes. Thank God. He reaches behind the shower curtain and turns the water on.

  Is someone taking a shower? Does he think two someones are taking a shower—like together?

  “It’ll take some time for it to get warm up here, and for the water to heat up,” he says and then stands right between my knees. It might take a minute for the water to heat, but the area between my legs is already on fire.

  “Man, you’re so cold. Are you okay?” He kneels in front of me. His voice is so soft and filled with such a sweet tone of concern, I don’t scream in his face that no freaking way am I getting in the shower with him.

  He’s such a presumptuous jackass. He didn’t even ask me. Who does he think he is? And why is one little part of me hoping he scoops me up into his arms again and carries me into the shower before my sensible conscious has a chance to object?

  “I-I’m o-o-k-kay,” I manage to stutter out while the two sides of my frozen brain are doing battle over the prospect of getting in the shower with him.

  “Here. Let me help you. Lift your arms.” I’m too cold to care that this guy, who I’m supposed to be resisting, is about to undress me. All I want is to be warm. My shaking arms raise in response to his command.

  His eyes lock on mine as he slips the tank top over my head and tosses it somewhere near his. As he does, the back of his hand brushes across one of my nipples. They’re already hardened from the cold, but they still manage to salute in response to his touch. I can’t stop myself from releasing a soft gasp when he touches me. Crap. Maybe he didn’t hear it. For a second his eyes, which have never left mine, darken to the color of a tropical island sky at dusk. Yup. Definitely heard me moan. He blinks, licks his lips, and then bends over to take my ankle in his hand.

  My eyes follow the path of his tongue along his lips and this time I swallow the groan easing up before it has a chance to come out. I wonder if this is how Cinderella felt when the prince knelt in front of her to place the shoe on her foot, all tingly and quivery. Especially since, in Cindy’s case, he was slipping on a glass slipper, not pulling off a soaked canvas sneaker.

  When Dak’s fingers touch the bare skin of my ankle, it sends heated sparks up my legs. I’m beginning to warm up in the most pleasant, terrifying way. How is it possible to be this cold and heated at the same time?

  Placing his other hand over the laces of my sneaker, he tugs if off. When he does, the contents of my soaked shoe pour out and pool around his knees. He doesn’t even notice. He proceeds to pull my dripping sock off, then does the same thing with my other sneaker and sock.

  It’s crazy. The way he’s fixated on taking care of me is so freaking sensual. And again, I’m surprised to realize that instead of tensing and moving away from his touch, I lean into it.

  He looks up and slips his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. Closing my eyes to block out the vision of his heavy-lidded eyes and muscled chest in front of my face, I focus on the task of keeping myself from trembling or worse—spreading my legs open to give him a welcoming invitation.

  “You okay?” he asks in a soft voice. I open my eyes to find his dreamy eyes staring at me and his brow furrowed in worry.

  “I…I’m fine. Thank you.” Oh brother. All I can think of to say to this beautiful guy who’s taking care of me like I’m a delicate butterfly needing the touch of gentle hands to be saved is a feeble thank you.

  The heated sensations caused by his tenderness are spreading from my toes to the tips of my fingers and landing down between my thighs.

  He slides my shorts down my legs and slips them off, tossing them to the side. My body trembles in response to the soft touch of his fingers along my skin. When his hazy gaze drifts in a slow path from my toes up to my breasts, I become aware of once again being exposed to him in nothing but my bra and panties. Even though they’re more of an athletic style and not the lacy type he saw me in at the rink, they’re white and soaked and are now completely see-through. Again. This thing of ending up in transparent underwear in front of him is getting to be an awkward habit.

  “I’m okay to take it from here,” I say and reach for one of the folded bath towels on the shelf next to me and hold it in front of my chest.

  The bathroom is beginning to fill with the steam from the warm water now streaming from the shower and my body is already filled with the steamy sensations of Dak’s hands, eyes, and ripped muscles. I was right. This is going to be a very long night, stuck on an island with a sex god I can’t touch. He’s still kneeling between my legs and the growing ache I’m experiencing at my core to spread my legs and satisfy my need for him is relentless.

  When I reach for the towel his eyes move from my now covered breasts to my eyes as he stands up in front of me. “Oh right. I’m going to take a shower in the other bathroom down the hall. I’ll see if I can find us some dry clothes. I’m sure they keep some with the supplies in case anyone gets stuck here. I’ll leave them on your bed. The cabinet under the sink is stocked with toiletries and there’s new toothbrushes in the drawer.”

  Even though it’s my first time staying at the house, it’s clearly not Dak’s. It’s apparent he knows where to find everything we’ll need to stay the night. I can’t help wondering if he brought any of his many hookups here, even though I’m sure the univ
ersity would frown on the Marine Science students using the house as a makeshift hotel.

  The house has two classrooms, a recreation room, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room and is big enough to accommodate twenty researchers or students. It’s kept well stocked with supplies for times when people stay here for periods of days or weeks to observe marine life.

  “You sure you’re good?”

  “I’m good,” I assure him. “You better go get out of the rest of your wet things too before you catch pneumonia.”

  While I should be relieved he’s going to take a shower in the other bathroom, I’m feeling a little disappointed.

  Stupid girl.

  I know, right? He’s behaving like a perfect gentleman and I’m disappointed.

  Real nice, Tracey.

  Okay, okay. I get it. Shut up, I chide my own know it all, irritating mind.

  “I never get sick,” he boasts and gives his right bicep a playful flex. Yup. Thoughts of big, strong Spartan warriors, cross my mind. “It will only take me a minute and then I’ll head down to check out the food supply and make us some dinner. I’m starving and you must be too. We forgot to stop to eat today.”

  At the mention of food my stomach responds right on cue with a loud rumble.

  “I guess that means yes.” He laughs and walks toward the door.

  “Dak?”

  “Trace.” He turns and gives me his infamous half smile. Between his smile, and the way he says my name in an easygoing, sensual tone, I’m sure my wet panties must be adding to the steam in the bathroom.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” I smile and his face lights up in a bigger smile.

  “No problem. Your wish is my command, milady.” He gives me a charming smile and then bows.

  “You’re such a weirdo,” I tease, even though my heart grew two sizes in response to his sweetness.