That didn’t count for shit in his book.
“Mason,” she said in her throaty voice that made his groin tighten. “Bed at sea or bed in a port o’ call?
“Bed at sea. Port o’ call would defeat the purpose.” Although, if they were to take a trip like that, he would have to go to land every so often for supplies. It wasn’t like stores had the ability to deliver to boats at sea. Yet.
Her brows crashed together. “We have a purpose?”
“Getting your sea legs, landlubber.”
“I do lub the land,” she said with a sigh.
Bomber groaned and turned over on his side.
“Dog’s life,” Mason said with affection.
“I brought lunch for two with me, if you’re ready to eat.”
“Starving.”
After lunch, Skylar rolled out her towel beside Bomber and lay down, claiming the sea made her sleepy. Not that he cared. If she wanted to stay out here with him, then damn it, she could stay without having to give him an excuse.
Mason settled down in the captain’s chair and pulled a ball cap low on his head. While they dozed, he kept an eye on them and their surroundings.
A pod of dolphins passed by, and then a whale surface not too long after that.
“Skylar,” he called out for the third time, but she slept on.
Lastly, a cruise ship sailed by, heading south to the Bahamas from Norfolk, Virginia. Finally, the sun started to sink behind them, and he made his way to her.
Tenderly, he brushed back her hair from her face. “Wake up, Skylar.”
Slowly, her eyes blinked open and the smile she gave him rocked his world. “Hi,” she said, adorably sleepy sounding. Actually, this was probably exactly how she sounded when she woke up in the morning.
“Time to go,” he said gruffly, letting his eyes roam her body. Her bikini was askew, exposing one perfectly made-for-him breast. Her pink nipple peaked in the cool air, and his mouth went dry.
Skylar gasped and adjusted the material of her top. “Sorry.”
He glanced away, hoping like hell his board shorts hid his erection. “Didn’t see a thing.”
“Good.” Quickly, she got up, put her life jacket on and sat down. Her cheeks were as pink as that mouthwatering nipple.
Yeah, he had to stop thinking about that before he stopped thinking at all.
As he did a safety check, she motioned for Bomber to join her.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked, curious if she would go out with him again. Wait, did he want her to go out with him?
The answer was yes. His terms, he reminded himself. Honor his brothers by attempting to live. He could do this, starting with Skylar. She was his test.
And if things went well…
“I had a great time. Maybe you could invite your brother, Tristan, and my friend Lemon to go out with us on the boat.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You think there’s going to be a next time?” He decided not to inform her that it would be a cold day in hell before Tristan and Lemon did anything together that didn’t require a court order.
She flashed him a flirty smile, and his gut clenched. What was it about this woman that made him lose his mind? Made him want to try to live again? “I know there will be.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Snatching his sunglasses from the captain’s chair, she settled them on her nose and struck a pose like an old-school movie star. “I’m fabulous company,” she said and tossed her hair. “So fab.”
His lips twitched before he could stop them, and her mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “You’re tolerable.”
“I’m irresistible, sugar,” she replied in an over-exaggerated accent.
Yes, you are. He grunted. “That might be stretching things.”
“That’s not exactly disagreeing with me.”
“Bomber needs company while I swim or dive.”
“You normally go diving alone?” She looked at him over her glasses, green eyes wide. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“For him it might be.” He rechecked her lifejacket and Bomber’s. “But for me—no.”
“What about sharks?” She whispered the last word.
“I stay away from them, and they stay away from me. Predator respects predator.”
“Oh, good Lord,” she muttered. “Try being serious.”
This time, he did more than allow his mouth to twitch. He laughed, and damn, it felt good.
Skylar, however, didn’t think he was amusing at all. She crossed her arms and turned up the cutest nose he’d ever seen.
“There are no sharks in the sound,” he said, but he didn’t go diving in the sound. The water wasn’t clear enough for his liking.
Her lips flattened. “Hmpf.”
“Okay, so you might run into a sand shark every now and then, but they won’t bite you. Hell, I’m more likely to bite you.” Nibble on you. Kiss the golden skin of her neck and work his way down to—
“I read online the other day that in January of this year, Katharine was practically all the way to Belhaven.”
“They’re still tracking her?” The fourteen-foot, twenty-three hundred pound great white had been tagged a few years back. He’d never seen her, not once, since he started diving. Maybe—
“Mason, you should not look so happy about a shark hanging out where people normally swim.”
“I’m not happy,” he snapped.
“Of course you’re not, but your mouth started doing that thing.” She touched her lips.
He frowned. “What thing?”
“The opposite of what it’s doing now.”
He started the engine and headed to shore, grateful for the excuse not to talk.
The pier came into view and he cut the boat’s engine, letting the tide carry them the rest of the way, with only short bursts of power when the boat went off course.
“You worry way too much about stuff you can’t control,” he said as he stood, grabbing the anchor and dropping it over the side. Then he formed a clove hitch and looped it over a post, securing the boat.
“I don’t have to be in control.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Well, if I’m a control freak, then you are an ultra-to-the-max control freak.”
“Never said I wasn’t, but I can’t control Mother Nature,” he pointed out and turned to his dog. At his signal, Bomber leapt onto the pier.
“Yet, you like to tempt God by going out alone and swimming with sharks.” She grabbed her beach bag, and stuffed her towel in it, then allowed him to help her onto the pier.
“No great risk, no great reward.”
He had lost his damn mind. “No swimming with sharks, get to see another day.”
“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he said to rile her up and managed to somehow piss himself off as the same time. “And I’ll swim anywhere I want, when I want.” Damn woman. He made to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me.” Skylar let go of his arm and fisted her hands on her hips. “You will listen to what I have to say.”
A tic started up in his jaw. “You have one minute.”
Chapter Nine
‡
Skylar fumed. He wasn’t taking her seriously, and nothing could be more serious than a man with a death wish.
“I am not cute, and I am not going to let you distract me from my original point. You will not go swimming with sharks or diving with them. And you need to spend time with your family,” Skylar said firmly. “If I still had family left, I would see them every day—sometimes twice a day just to make sure they were okay.”
“Honey, it’s a damn shame you don’t have family, but you can’t put that off on me.”
“I’m not putting anything off on you.” Except she was. Sorta. Okay, she totally was, but the man had support. All she had growing up was her dad and the people who dared to make friends with Carnies.
Mason took a step closer to her, crowding her up agai
nst a stack of wooden crates. “You need to mind your business.”
“I’ve made you my business. What are you going to do about it?”
“This.” His head dipped and then his mouth was hers, softly sliding against her lips in the barest of kisses. But that kiss was her undoing.
She dropped her bag, and it hit the wood with a thud.
Twining her hands into his hair, she brought him closer. She had to have him closer. There was the very good possibility he would stop kissing her, that he’d only kissed her to shut her up about family.
But she didn’t care.
Nipping her bottom lip, he pressed his big, lean body against hers, hip to hip, chest to chest, and everywhere in between. She let out a ragged moan, and he smiled against her mouth.
“I like when you do that.”
“Kiss me again, and I’ll make you like me even more,” she said.
Lowering his head once more, he slanted his mouth over hers, warm and hot, slightly salty. Desire and need hit her hard, made her cling to him.
Picking her up, he set her down on the top chest and got right between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her back, his fingers touching her gently, as if he were exploring her. As if he were trying to soothe her, but she didn’t want soothing. She wanted him.
His tongue swept inside her mouth, rubbing against hers until she melted against him like a chocolate bar left out in the sun. Their kiss became deeper, wetter, and so good that goose bumps rose on her arms.
She dropped her hands to his shoulders just as one of his slid between them to cup her breast. His thumb slid over her hard nipple, and a thrum of pleasure rippled over her. Over and over, he tortured her with kisses and that damn thumb as it rubbed her overly sensitized flesh.
Rocking her hips against him, she almost cried out at the sensation. His other hand drifted down her back, cupped her bottom, and held her firm against him. Then he began to move, began to hit her in the same spot over and over. Her flimsy bikini bottoms allowed her to feel every stroke against her, every hard inch of him.
She dug her nails into his shoulder and he hissed, but didn’t let up. Didn’t stop rocking against her even as he devoured her. He was greedy for her, and she was just as greedy for him.
Suddenly, he stopped and cursed. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Why?”
He shook his head, but he didn’t let go of her. “I can’t do this.”
She wriggled her hips against him. “It feels like you can, and I could. I mean, I was about to.”
He let out a ragged breath. “So was I, which is why I stopped. There are a couple of boats a few yards off shore. Don’t want to be on YouTube.”
Peeking over his shoulder, she gasped. “Oh my goodness.” Sure enough, two boats filled with kids and cell phones were within earshot of his pier. She blanched at the thought of their private moment being uploaded to every website on the planet.
“They just showed up. Heard the engines first. I don’t think they’ve spotted us yet.”
“That’s good.”
“You got plans tomorrow?” he asked as he nibbled his way down her throat and breathed deeply into the hollow of her neck. “You smell so damn good, sweetness.”
Oh my. When he talked like that…after kissing her like that… “Church,” she said, trying to concentrate. She was hot and bothered and wet…so wet for him. “Your brother, Adam, is preaching and—”
He kissed her again, and then pulled away. “Afterwards?”
“Plans with you,” she said, searching his face.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He leaned into her again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I need to go. Bomber and I need a shower.”
“Together?” she teased.
“I go first. He uses too much hot water.”
“Oh, so he teases all the time now,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “I think I like this side of you.”
“Sun poisoning.”
“Right.” She schooled her face. “That can make a person completely out of his mind.”
Instead of answering her, he wrapped his big hands around each side of her waist and lifted her off the wooden chest. She almost sighed then. It was so romantic. And sexy.
A man who could lift a woman like that, without complaining or grunting, was definitely sexy in her book.
Positively giddy, she almost skipped down the pier. “See you tomorrow after church.”
“Bring more of those sandwiches you made, and I’ll supply the rest.”
“Aye-aye Captain.” Turning slightly, she gave him a smart salute. “What other booty do you require before we set sail?”
His blue eyes darkened. “Wench,” he grumbled, but there was the tiniest bit of affection in his voice. “The boat’s leaving at two. Be here.”
With a little sigh, she turned and walked back home, knowing that tomorrow would be another amazing day.
“See,” she told herself. “All he needed was a little kindness and affection. And apparently, all I needed was a kiss or two.” Or hundred.
*
That night, Skylar closed her eyes and began to play. She let the music flow out of her and onto the keys, the composition forming as she went. She didn’t see notes—she saw colors, feelings…Mason. The memories of today guided her hands. She played for hours, time becoming meaningless as she poured herself into it, as she surrendered to her muse.
You have a gift. Don’t waste it. Don’t throw it away.
The voices echoed in her head, but she didn’t falter. Instead, she shoved them away and concentrated on Mason’s words.
You’re a gift.
I’m a gift. I having meaning and purpose. My students need me.
Mason needs me.
Or at least, she hoped he did.
The tempo changed, becoming seductive. Heated. If only her music could actually seduce. If only her music could talk for her, weave a magic love spell around Mason and her.
She giggled a little and then turned serious, letting the music take over once more.
Come to me. I need you.
That was what the music seemed to say to him. Hell, at one point, he could have sworn Skylar had whispered it in his ear with her sexy-as-ell voice. Then again, he’d actually taken his meds tonight with water only, thank you very much, so it was entirely possible he was hallucinating.
But he wasn’t hallucinating the need he had for her. The unmitigated desire that had him worked up from kissing her.
Mason gripped the front porch railing so hard that his knuckles were white. His resolve to stay on this side of the yard wavered the longer she played. It was as if a siren had taken over, trying to seduce him into going to her house. Into knocking on her door and claiming her mouth before he claimed her body.
“Damn it.” He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His body was tight, tense. His leg especially. He was ready to charge, ready to snap…ready to be the breacher.
Only… she hadn’t invited him.
Chapter Ten
‡
Over the next couple of weeks, Skylar spent more and more time with Mason. He took her out on his boat, cooked dinner for her every night, and sometimes would even accompany her town on Saturdays.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, or his sudden change in attitude. It was as if he’d done a one-eighty and that more than anything bothered her. No one changed that quickly after going through what Mason had, but then again, who was she to judge?
After all, the change was positive. He looked healthier, stopped relying on his walking stick as he called it, and had put some weight back on, but his body was more cut than ever since he started diving again.
“My leg doesn’t feel so useless when I’m in the water,” he had told her over dinner one night.
“But I worry about you. Out there all alone.”
“I’m fine. Besides, I need the practice.”
Skylar sighed and waited for Mason to join her in his living room. T
onight, she had suggested they watch the latest Romanov flick, and he had agreed.
“You know he married a local girl from Holland Springs,” Mason said as he joined her on the couch. “My cousin, Bella, knows them. Her husband works with his twin brother—the earl.”
“Really?”
“Impressed?”
“Should I be?”
He leaned into her. “I can impress you,” he said, his voice all husky as he pressed her into the cushions of the couch. “Pretty sure I can impress the hell out of you.”
“Impress away, sailor,” she said with a giggle.
He settled himself between her thighs and placed his arms alongside her head. “I haven’t kissed you lately.”
Staring up into his dark blue eyes, she shivered. “No, you haven’t. Is there a reason for that?” She touched his face, tracing the scar on his bottom lip. “I’m very open to more kissing.”
“What about other things?” He lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just shy of kissing her. Then he pulled back a little, and she almost groaned at the loss. So close. “Or was what happened on the pier between us just the heat of the moment?”
Her eyes widened. “There was heat, but there’s heat now, too.”
“Really?” His mouth curved into a sexy smile. “How hot are you, Skylar?” He slid a hand between them and cupped her between her legs. “Oh, baby, you are so damn hot.”
Her body pulsed in response. “Make me hotter,” she whispered.
He slid down her body and pushed up her skirt, baring her lace-covered panties. “Nice lingerie.”
“Doing what I can to keep up your morale.”
Pressing a kiss to her mound, he said, “My morale is most definitely up.”
Hooking his thumbs under the edges of her panties, he worked them down her legs. She fought back the urge to cover herself and concentrated on being a confident woman who knew what to do with a man like Mason Lawson.
Only she didn’t have the first clue how to tell him that she had no idea what to do with him, or that she wasn’t good in bed. Donovan had never been able to make her come during sex. It had gotten so frustrating that she, ever the people pleaser, had resorted to faking orgasms with him so he wouldn’t be pissed off later, perform badly in class, and then blame her.
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