Ship-Wrecked (Love Is... Book 6)

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Ship-Wrecked (Love Is... Book 6) Page 6

by Cassie Cross


  He’s been out here for a while, so there’s this thin sheen of sweat on him, making his skin glisten in the sun. It makes him look more like a model than he usually does, and it also makes me want to lick him from stem to stern. His bright blue swim trunks aren’t doing much to discourage that desire either; they show off his perfect ass, and his muscular thighs.

  The last time I saw River he was holding a man up against a wall, but here, now…I kind of want him to pin me to one.

  “Hey,” he says, pulling me out of my horny daydream.

  His hungry eyes linger on me, making me shiver. There’s naked lust written all over his face, and no cameras around here to fool. Just the two of us, the air crackling with tension and want, a powder keg ready to explode.

  He walks over to me with long, sure strides and comes to a stop right in my personal space. It’s closer than we’ve been in a week, but still not close enough. His arms move slowly toward me, like he can’t figure out where he wants to touch. He settles on gliding the backs of his fingers down my sides, and this cocky smile makes its way onto his gorgeous face when I sway on the spot.

  “Are you trying to kill me looking like that?” he asks, voice low and rumbling.

  I smile. “No. I’d very much like to keep you alive.”

  He moves in closer, to kiss me or to say something, I don’t know. He’s interrupted by Casey yelling at us from the sliding glass door off the sunroom.

  “You guys need to get going if you’re gonna stay on schedule.”

  River’s fingers make another circuit before he reluctantly breaks away, takes my hand and says, “C’mon.”

  I watch River tie up the boat on the tiny dock, enjoying the play of muscles beneath his tanned skin. He just rowed us the length of two football fields and barely cracked a sweat, and he looked good doing it. To distract myself from jumping him right in view of the cameras I know are lurking somewhere in the boat traffic off in the distance, I admire the cute little bungalow on the island. It’s the only structure here, with a thatched roof over a little patio and palm trees throwing the place in a little bit of shade.

  The island is bigger than it looked from the house, about the size of a city block, with a luxurious private beach on the back side of the property. That’s where Claudia said we’d be able to get the best shots.

  I’m pulled out of my thoughts by River’s warm hand on my back. “Ready?”

  Not really. I don’t feel like putting on a show right now. I want to sit down with River and ask him what he wants this to be, if it’s real or if it’s just for the cameras, or some mix that we can’t distinguish because this game we’re playing blurred the lines between the two.

  “Yeah,” I’m ready. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to the house and maybe have a talk.

  River laces his fingers through mine, and we walk the length of the beach, letting the tide sweep across our toes. He surprises me by wrapping his arm around my waist and spinning me until our bodies are pressed close together, my bare stomach on his.

  “I love this suit,” he says, his hand lingers low on my back, skimming the top of my bikini bottoms. “I don’t know if I want anyone else seeing you in it. I feel like this should be just for me.”

  I drop my head to his collarbone, brushing my lips across his skin. It should be just for him. It’s the kind of thing I’d be wearing if I thought we were alone, just spending some time together on a long weekend in paradise.

  That’s what I want, not this sham that we have. Not this fake thing where our private moments are put on display like this. The reminder that we’re being watched makes my skin crawl. It sets this low-level anxiety buzzing through me, making it impossible for me to act natural.

  I look up at River, and he’s fully swept up in me. Eyes half-lidded and drunk with lust. Maybe he’s forgotten what we’re here for, but I haven’t. I can’t.

  I pull myself out of his grasp, and head for the chairs that are set up a couple of yards away. I make a beeline for them, toss my bag on one and run out into the surf.

  “Skye?” River asks, confused. I don’t blame him.

  “Don’t you feel like swimming? We don’t have water like this in California.” It’s true, we don’t. It’s crystal clear and sparkling, and the last thing I care about. I just need some space.

  River gives it to me for a little while, lets me tread water on my own, like it’s a game. He splashes me, and I laugh despite myself. I splash back, and it becomes a war that he wins by pure physicality. When I go to splash him the last time, he grabs onto my fingers and pulls me over to him. Instinctively I wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist.

  It’s nice here, like this. I could almost forget where we are and what we’re doing. Almost.

  His beautiful, confused eyes search mine. “What’s the matter?” he asks. He brushes a strand of wet hair off my forehead with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. I move in, his whole body is like a magnet to mine. My eyes flutter shut as our noses brush together. We’re just on the edge of a kiss, and it brings me back to the first time, the utter bliss of it before the the camera flashes ruined it all.

  I swear I can hear the shutters clicking from all the way over here, and this is yet another private moment I don’t want stolen from me.

  I jolt back and swim away.

  “Skye?”

  He catches up with me on the beach. I grab my bag and pull out a towel, then toss one at him. “We have to go back, I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what? Skye!”

  I run back to the dock, wanting to get far away from the cameras and just…be with him. Alone.

  River chases after me, calling my name, but we both shut up when we reach the boat.

  The boat which is…halfway under water.

  “What the hell?” I yell, desperate. I jump down into it to see what could’ve happened, but River pulls me out and back onto my feet.

  “Are you insane?” he asks, looking at me like I’m losing it.

  Which I am.

  That’s when I notice the note nailed to the dock.

  I rip it off and read it.

  Yes, we sabotaged your boat. I was the long-distance brains and Casey was the brawn. The bungalow is yours for the night; use it wisely. Figure things out. Someone will be by to get you tomorrow morning. But not too early. ;)

  Have fun! Don’t try to swim back, there are sharks and I know you don’t have the endurance.

  -Kendall

  I let out this roar of utter frustration, crumble up the paper and throw it into the boat, where it just floats on the water that’s filling it halfway up.

  “What did it say?”

  “Kendall put your sister up to sabotaging the boat.”

  He looks like that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard, because it is. “What?”

  “They want us to talk, so they’ve…they’ve shipwrecked us. Now we’re stuck.”

  “Okay, I’ll swim back and get someone to—”

  “You can’t swim, there are sharks!” I don’t even know if it’s true, but River’s body is far too gorgeous to have a bite taken out of it.

  “What do you want me to do?” he yells, frustrated. “I kiss you, you run. You avoid me for a week, then back on the beach I thought you wanted me to do it again, and now…now I don’t know what in the hell you want.”

  His eyes are blazing mad, and it kind of makes me want to jump him even more, which is messed up, I know.

  “I want…I want something real! I want to rewind time to that morning we met. I want you to have asked for my number, to have asked me out. I want to erase that meeting in my publicist’s office, I want to erase this whole damn farce and just…be with you. No paparazzi, no people watching our every move, just…just us.”

  He looks at me with fire in his eyes, his gorgeous chest heaving. Without warning, he scoops me up and runs me over to the bungalow, fumbles with the doorknob, and sets me down on the floor inside.


  He takes a deep breath, looking beautifully wild, then cups my face in his strong, callused hands. He looks at me, eyes bright and happy. It’s a look I haven’t seen on him since that night.

  River brushes the pads of his thumbs across my cheekbones, looking at me with all the tenderness of a man in love. He leans in and kisses me that way too, soft and sweet, warm and inviting. I cling to his shoulders, needing something to tether me to the ground, and lose myself in the glide of his tongue against mine, the feel of his arms holding me tight.

  We kiss for minutes, maybe hours. However long it is, the earth has definitely shifted on its axis. When we part, breathlessly happy, I ask, “What was that?”

  He brushes his lips against mine, a little clumsy because we’re smiling.

  “Something real.”

  That? That’s when I jump on him and all hell breaks loose.

  River and I kiss like we’re making up for lost time, we touch each other like nothing’s off-limits. That’s one of the good things about foreplay in swimsuits: you’re already almost naked.

  His hands are everywhere. My back, my ass, my stomach. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to touch you,” he says between kisses. “When you were wearing that dress at the premiere, that dress at the cologne party. Hell, even when you were wearing sweats when we were walking Gigi.”

  I laugh, then kiss him some more. “So, all the time, huh?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Same for me. I’m glad you said it first so I didn’t sound like a weirdo.”

  He laughs, then nips at my breast. “By all means, touch me whenever and wherever you want to.”

  I let my hand slide beneath his swim trunks and take him in my hand, gliding it just over the tip and making him grunt.

  He retaliates by trailing hot kisses along my chest, then traces the outline of my bikini top with his fingers, before gripping the string and ripping it off.

  It surprises me more than anything, but he doesn’t waste any time. He cups my breasts, rubs his callused thumbs across my nipples. His hands are rough in the best way, and I want more of them, all over.

  My head falls back, and River takes that as an invitation to kiss my neck. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me. “Perfect.” He licks a trail down my chest, across one nipple and then the other, gently teasing it between his teeth.

  He picks me up and lays me down on the bed, then makes quick work of kissing all the places he’s yet to explore. My stomach, my hips, my calves. My thighs fall open for him, and he quickly unties my bottoms, pulling the scrap of fabric off and tossing it aside. He teases me a little, curled fingers first, then his mouth heads right where I want it.

  His tongue is absolute magic and I quickly lose the thread, bucking up against him so hard that he has to sling his strong arm across my hips to keep me right where he wants me. He doubles down when I grip his hair between my fingers, begging for more. I come with a rough shout, and he tenderly holds my hand as he works me through it, kissing and caressing me as I find my way back down to earth.

  I reach for him and he immediately knows what I want, draping his big, warm body over mine, finding his spot in the cradle of my hips. We kiss a little while, just enjoying each other and working up to more. I curl my toes around the waist of his shorts and pull them down, freeing him from the restrictive fabric.

  When I reach down and touch him again, he lets out a moan followed by a frustrated grunt.

  “I don’t have a condom,” he says, like it’s the most devastating news in the world.

  I laugh a little, giddy off of him. “I do, in my bag.”

  He heads over to where I dropped it on the floor with a quickness, fumbles around inside like a keyed-up man on a mission.

  He pulls out three. “You were feeling lucky, huh.”

  I grin and take him in, all six-foot-three of his naked, beautiful body. I want him inside of me now.

  “Before you get too carried away, I always have those in there.”

  “I don’t care,” he says, ripping one open. “I’m just glad you came prepared.”

  He rolls it on, and I lick my lips in anticipation of him. He makes his way back to the bed and crawls over to me, settling back between my thighs with a long, sweet kiss.

  “Skye McLane,” he says reverently, curling an errant lock of my hair around his finger. His face is all happy and flushed. “I think I could fall in love with you.”

  I go in for a kiss and wrap my legs around him, not wanting to wait another second. We both sigh as he pushes inside of me, finding a rhythm quickly, like we were born to do this with each other. He rocks against me, kissing me languidly, taking his time to make me feel cherished. It’s good, it’s amazing, but I’m so keyed up that I need more.

  I catch him off guard and flip him on to his back, and he lets out this surprised little laugh that fades away when I grind down on him. My hips are like magnets for his hands, his grip guiding me at a punishing pace. Every single nerve ending is on fire; I can feel him from my fingertips to my toes with each move. He hits just the right spot, over and over until my muscles feel weak and ready to explode all at the same time. He surges up when I’m right on the edge, mouth finding my nipple as I come apart around him, holding onto him for dear life.

  I wrap my body around him like he’s the only thing that can give me a soft place to land when I come down. It takes me a minute to catch my breath, and when I do, I cup his beautiful face in my hands.

  I kiss him tenderly and whisper. “I think I could fall in love with you, too.”

  He revels in the thought for just a moment, then I push my hips down on him, making him moan. He holds me like a lifeline, his hips frantic. He buries his face in the crook of my neck when he comes, bringing me along with him for a third time.

  We collapse onto the bed, boneless and breathless.

  When his breathing has returned somewhat to normal, I run my fingers through his hair and kiss the tip of his nose.

  “Wow. Three times. Congratulations to me.”

  He laughs and holds me closer. “There’s more where those came from. Eventually.” He reluctantly gets up, leaving me a little bit cold until he returns to bed and pulls me back against his chest.

  I let out a contented sigh and fall asleep with the afternoon sun on my face.

  Chapter Ten

  I wake up with my head on River’s chest, my body pleasantly aching and my soul at ease.

  He pulls me out of the last of my sleepiness with a kiss on my forehead. “Good morning,” he says. His morning voice is all rumbly beneath my ear, and it’s the best sound to hear first thing. I squeeze him tight.

  “Good morning.”

  The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, and I wonder if I’m imagining it because I’m in need of caffeine, or if this little tropical bungalow is actually stocked with the essentials. Maybe Casey brought a Keurig pod or two inside before she put a hole in our boat.

  A thought that makes me giggle.

  “I’m glad you’re happy this morning.”

  “How could I not be happy this morning?” I press my lips against any spot I can reach as River traces absentminded patterns on my upper back.

  “I looked in the cabinets. There isn’t anything to make you breakfast in bed, but I just wanted to make it known that I tried.”

  I run my fingers along his chest and bring my hand to rest over his heart, loving the steady thump of it beneath my palm.

  “I won’t ever turn down breakfast in bed, but that was a Fake Skye thing, not a Real Skye thing.”

  He cuddles me closer. “Tell me what Real Skye likes, then.”

  “She likes spooning, being kissed awake in the middle of the night, ice cream—of course—”

  “Of course,” he laughs.

  “She likes long nights of sleeping and not sleeping, she likes loyalty, monogamy, and most importantly, not referring to herself in the third person.” I hike myself up on my
elbows, so I can kiss his lips. “And I have to say you’re doing a great job at all of those things so far.”

  He slides his fingertip along the curve of my jaw. “You don’t have to worry about loyalty or monogamy with me, you know that right?”

  I nod. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know that. I’m confident in the kind of man you are, River. I don’t doubt that. I would also like to add that I like using you as a pillow.”

  Another rumbling laugh. “I like being used as a pillow.”

  “What about you? What do you like?”

  “I like the sounds you make when I make you come. I like falling asleep with you in my arms and walking up the same way. I like your smile, your heart, your dog. But most of all, I like you,” he says with a dopey smile. “I like you a lot, probably more than anyone.”

  I laugh. “Well, that sounds like a good start.”

  “Yesterday you said that you wish I would’ve gotten your number and asked you out. Skye, if I didn’t know you were the woman I was going to be meeting with that day, I would’ve gotten your number. I wouldn’t have even waited an hour to call you. I would’ve asked you out that evening, if you were free.”

  I smile, thinking about the what-ifs. “I would’ve said yes.”

  He presses a kiss into my hair. “Good to know.”

  We lie in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other and listening to the waves crashing against the sand outside.

  “We have to end this arrangement,” he says.

  “We definitely do,” I say, propping myself up to look at him again.

  “I don’t think we can totally avoid the paparazzi though, I mean, they’re bound to get us sometimes if we’re out and about.”

  I sigh, because I know he’s right. “So long as we’re not catering our relationship to photo ops, I think I can put up with that. I think I’d put up with a lot to be with you.”

  He grins and moves in for a kiss, and it spirals out of control pretty quickly. I pull away and clasp my hand over his mouth. “We should stop, I have morning breath.”

 

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