Anchored_Book One of The Crashing Tides Duet

by Ruby Rowe

  “I see where Jake got his wit from and his dynamic green eyes.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. His father’s quite amusing.” She nudges Jake’s shoulder. “You found a gentle soul. I like her already.”

  “Thank you.” Blushing, I examine the room again. “I see why art is Maddie’s favorite class. She’s so creative and imaginative.”

  “Like her Uncle Jake, she’s a natural on the pottery wheel.”

  “Oh, really? Jake hasn’t told me about this.” He’s the one turning a bright shade of red now.

  “Are you ready for your surprise?” he asks.

  “This isn’t it?”

  “Nope. There’s more. Follow me.”

  Jeanine removes her apron as she walks back toward a counter near a doorway that’s covered by a pink and green paisley curtain. We follow her, and I’m eager to see where we’re going.

  “I’m grabbing my purse and heading out. I’ll lock the front door.”

  Jake kisses her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart. It was lovely meeting you, Sailor. You’ll have to come over for dinner soon and meet the old man from Brooklyn.”

  I giggle. “I’d love that.” Taking my hand, Jake leads me through the curtain, and I glance around a spacious room with a concrete floor. On the right are rows of shelves and supplies, along with some plastic tote containers resting on the floor.

  An open walkway is straight ahead, and a half-wall starts on the left about fifteen feet in front of us that somewhat divides the large room into two.

  Jake walks us over to the makeshift area, and I cover my mouth. Small strings of white lights are hung up on the perimeter walls and run across the top of the half-wall.

  There are two giant red pillows on the floor, and between them is a blanket spread out with a picnic basket, a place setting for two and an ice bucket with a bottle of wine chilling. Behind that is a pottery wheel and a table with supplies.

  “Jake, this is so romantic.”

  He kisses my temple. “Have a seat, doll.” I take a pillow, and once we’re both seated, he starts a mellow playlist on his phone and pours us drinks. I open the picnic basket and pull out containers.

  “Oh, you got noodles and dumplings,” I say excitedly. “I love both.”

  “You’re too easy to please.”

  Looking down at the containers of food, I ask, “So, have you brought other dates to the pottery shop?”

  “Hell no, woman.” I giggle over the surprised tone in his voice. “That would’ve given them the wrong impression, and I don’t mislead people. They weren’t special like you.”

  “Thank you.” Once we’re eating, Jake’s quiet, but not in the I’m hungry and only focusing on my meal sort of way.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask.

  “Elliott told me he’s working a bunch of extra hours so he can take you away for a couple of days. Hell, he can charter a private jet if he wants. I can’t compete with that, so it’s at least cool to hear you like what I’ve done tonight.”

  I reach across our cozy space and squeeze his hand.

  “I wouldn’t compare the two dates. You and Elliott are different, and I don’t feel one of you is better than the other. Your differences are what make each of you unique, and you both give me special, contrasting experiences.

  “Honestly, until you mentioned Elliott, I was only in this moment with you, thinking about how romantic this is. I’ll admit I enjoy luxury at times, but I also crave this right here … with you.”

  I grin bashfully. “Believe me when I say that our brief staycation and trip to Walmart was the most fun I’d had in years.”

  As he chuckles, his dimples peek out, and the twinkling lights shining in his captivating green eyes remind me of Christmas.

  I bet the holidays with his family are so much fun, not stuffy like with my parents. I feel lonely when I see my family at the holidays, but I bet I’d have a blast with Jake’s.

  “Now, what are you thinking about?” he asks.

  “How I’d love to spend the holidays with your family since I imagine it would be amazing.”

  “Seriously?”

  Nodding, I lean over and give him a kiss, hoping I’ve eased his mind. I didn’t know if I could feel as close to Jake after the intimate time I spent with Elliott, but like always, as soon as I was back around Jake, seeing his smile, and feeling the positive energy and happiness he transmits, I fell deeper in love.

  It’s so easy to picture us ten years from now, married with children. I didn’t know it was possible to want that so soon.

  We talk and finish eating, and afterward, Jake directs me over to the pottery wheel.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “Yes, but not since college, and I wasn’t good at it.”

  “I’ll help you. It’ll give us another opportunity to be up close and personal.” He winks, and I swoon since he’s so good-looking without the added charm. I touch the stubble on his face.

  “I look forward to it.”

  “My mom wedged the clay for us, so we’re all set.”

  I sit on the stool in front of the wheel, and Jake sits on one right behind me. As he explains the process of throwing clay, I realize how much he’s learned from his mother.

  Starting the wheel with the foot pedal, he places the clay in the center and pats it in place before we wet our hands in a bucket next to us. He presses his body against mine and instructs me to bring my elbows in close to my waist.

  In no time, his hands are over mine, and we’re shaping the clay. The act of squeezing it with our wet palms, and forming it into a cone, is arousing.

  While he gives me instructions, I imagine my palms around something else, and that something else is pressing against my ass.

  He moves my right hand to the top of the cone, and as we push down on the clay, our left hands press against the side of it. This new move redirects my thoughts, and I focus on what we’re trying to accomplish.

  Once we’ve done this a while, it’s time to create a hole in the top center with our fingers, and my mind is having dirty thoughts again. I’m blaming it on the wet hands.

  Next, we begin to shape the cylinder into a pot. We use my thumb and fingertips to pull the clay … squeezing and lifting it gently to raise the wall.

  Even though I know we’re not creating a masterpiece since we’re using two sets of hands and I’m new at this, it’s cool to see the mound of clay form into another object.

  We smooth the rim and repeat the process, needing a sponge at times to soak up the excess water. I’m having a blast learning, finding it enjoyable to be the student again rather than the teacher. I feel safe in Jake’s arms, and as we finish, he kisses my neck.

  “You did good, Teach. Don’t let go while I get the wire to slide under the pot to remove it.”

  As he reaches farther over me to the grab wire off an attached area at the front of the wheel, I say, “I could call you Teach tonight, and you must be a pro at pottery since you were able to create this with your hands over mine.”

  “We were pros.” Carefully, he removes the pot from the wheel and moves it to a table. I turn around on my stool, hoping he’ll return to his so we’re facing each other. He takes the hint and sits in front of me. “Want to wash your hands?” he asks with a smirk.

  “No. I want them on you. This experience turned me on.” I glance back toward the door. “Will your mom come back?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Do you have a condom?”

  “I do.” Pulling one from his pocket, he holds it up and smiles. I bite my lip and get up to remove my jeans and panties, not worrying that they’ll be dirty from my hands.

  He lowers his jeans and underwear, too, and once he has the condom on, I straddle him and sink onto his hard cock. My satisfied moan and his groan are exhaled simultaneously.

  I’m soaked from having his body against me and from squeezing and shaping the clay. I recall his fing
ers directing mine to make the wet hole, and yeah, I’m diggin’ pottery class.

  He clutches my ass, keeping us both on the small stool. Sliding my hands up into his hair, I press my elbows against his shoulders to brace myself as I ride him.

  We kiss, our tongues probing and stroking, and I have to let go to catch my breath as the pleasure builds swiftly. My orgasm hits me fast and out of nowhere, so I grip the back of his coarse hair and cry out.

  He holds me down forcefully, burying himself deep as he’s pummeled with pleasure, too. He leans his head over to rest on my shoulder, and he pants for breath, the sounds in time with mine.

  Gradually, the banquet of sensations subsides, and it’s the perfect ending to our perfect date. I circle my arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

  “Thank you for tonight. It couldn’t have been better, and now, we have a reason to go to the condo and shower together.”

  “I like the way you’re thinking, and if throwing pottery gets you this horny, we might have to do it more often.”

  “I’d like that, but just know that any time we spend together is exciting.”

  Cupping my cheek, Jake strokes my hair with his other clay-covered hand.

  “I love you, Sailor. How is that already possible?”

  As I grin, I feel the butterflies in my stomach and the heart palpitations.

  “I don’t know, but I love you, too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Sailor

  It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m bored as I lie on my bed. With nothing to distract me, I keep obsessing over the guys. Jake’s been at Maddie’s this weekend, and Elliott’s been working extra hours since he wants to take a few days off while I’m on fall break, but I wish he was around this weekend.

  I should call Carrie. I grab my phone off the nightstand.

  “Hello, chickadee,” she says, obviously seeing my name on the screen of her phone.

  “Hi. How’s it going in Oahu?”

  “Amazing. Joshua and I are getting along, and his family has been more than welcoming. I’ve been applying for jobs, hoping someone on this island will need a Harvard graduate with an economics degree. How are things with the guys?”

  “Confusing and wonderful. I can’t choose, Carrie. They both said they’ll give me time, but each day that passes, I feel guiltier about it.

  “They have an odd relationship, too. They try to put on a front that they’re not close, but talking to them individually, I can tell they care about each other. I don’t want this to ruin their friendship, but I believe it could.

  “I don’t see how they’re going to live together after I choose, either. I’d feel like I could never go to their place. Sometimes I think it would be better if I left them both, but I don’t want it to come to that.”

  “Have you done a pros and cons list yet?”

  “No. I feel like I should follow my heart, not what’s on paper, but since I love them both, I don’t know how much help my heart’s going to be.

  “Elliott thinks I’ll be his last love, and Jake says I’m his first, but what if I could be both his first and last? Elliott told me he doesn’t want kids, but I don’t know if he meant it, and Jake wants them like I do.”

  “It sounds like you are considering the pros and cons. If you feel you love them equally, you may not have a choice but to pick that way.”

  “How did I get myself into this mess?”

  “Like I said before, this situation seems meant to be, regardless of whether it makes sense now.”

  My phone beeps, signaling another call, and I see that it’s Elliott. “Carrie, Elliott’s calling. Can we talk later?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye.” I push the button to talk to Elliott.

  “Hello,” I say.

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m bored and wish you were home.”

  “I am home. They wouldn’t let me work any more hours in a row, and I kept thinking about how we could have the condo to ourselves. Come over and curl up with me in front of the fireplace. We’ll listen to jazz and have dinner. Then, I’ll tie you to my bed and make you come.”

  “Elliott,” I whisper.

  “That wasn’t a no.”

  “I’ll be over soon.”

  ***

  Elliott opens the door and one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. Damn, he’s sexy in a pair of black sweats and a snug light grey Cornell t-shirt with the words in red across the front.

  He spots the anchor necklace around my neck, and his smile morphs into a grin as he gives me a look of appreciation. Grabbing my wrist, he yanks me inside and encircles me in his strong arms.

  “I can’t tell you what it means to me to see you wearing that necklace.”

  I breathe in his fresh shower scent and hum with contentment.

  “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too, baby.”

  Releasing me, Elliott cups my face and kisses me. He always has this seductive way about it where he pays extra attention to my lips, lightly grazing his over them before dragging my lower one between his teeth.

  Taking hold of my hand, he leads me to the stairs. “I think we should save relaxing by the fireplace for last.”

  I giggle over how fast he’s pulling me. “I agree.” I smell his lingering clean, ocean scent even more once we’re in his bedroom from where the attached bathroom door is open.

  His bedding is already pulled back, revealing grey sheets, and I immediately notice the slats on his headboard, which he could easily tie me to.

  I haven’t been with many men, and none have ever restrained me, so I’m a little scared of the unknown. I can’t help but feel excited, too, since I love the dominant Elliott I’ve been newly introduced to.

  He pulls my tight black sweater over my head, and I straighten out my hair. As he leaves kisses along my shoulder and collarbone, he unbuttons and unzips my jeans gradually … teasingly, and I clench the muscles between my legs.

  The desire he unearths in me is unparalleled. I know my pussy’s already wet as the familiar throbbing intensifies.

  He bends down and pulls off my short boots and socks before lowering my jeans and removing them. I tremble as his lips travel down my thigh.

  Elliott stands, and after admiring me, he unhooks my lacy black bra and ducks to suck one of my nipples into his mouth. He palms my other breast, and I whimper from the pleasurable sensations.

  “Climb up to the head of the bed and lie on your back.” Letting my bra hit the floor, I do as he instructs, and he disappears into his walk-in closet.

  I gnaw on my lip, and my trembling turns into shaking as I wait to see what’s in store for me. He strolls back out carrying two silver ties. “Tell me you trust me enough to be tied to my bed.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Baby, you just made my day.” As he takes one of my wrists and begins tying it to his headboard, I strain to look at him over my shoulder.

  “I take it you like kinky sex.”

  “I do, and I look forward to introducing you to all the ways we can play.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Even better. I get more of your firsts.” Walking around the bed, he leans over to tie my other wrist. Once he’s done, he lightly pulls on it. “You’re all mine now.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” I ask anxiously.

  “Don’t worry; I’m only going to make you feel good.”

  Straddling me, he gently kisses my lips, assuring me of his intentions. He skirts his mouth eagerly down my neck to my chest before he sucks on my nipples again.

  His tongue swirls around the stiff peaks, and I arch up against it while tugging on my wrists. I already wish I could touch him.

  Moving down my body, he leaves more open-mouthed kisses until he reaches my pelvis. He hooks his fingers around my thong and taunts me by slowly dragging it down my legs.

  Once I’m naked, he spreads my thighs open and slides his hands down the
m before he touches my most sensitive spot, opening me up there, too. “Fuck, you’re enticing, and I’m ready to lick this pink pussy.”

  “Elliott,” I whisper like I did on the phone. I’d cover my face if I could move my damn arms.

  “You’re blushing.” He grins. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He shifts onto his stomach and licks me right down the center. I jerk my arms like I want to get away, but really, I want to grab his hair and shove his face against me.

  “Are you wanting more?” He tilts his grey eyes up at me. “Say it, Sailor Girl. Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to lick me more.”

  His lips part as he inhales a breath, the exhilaration and lust present in his gaze.

  “As you wish.” He tastes me again and fucks me with his tongue. I pull on the bed, and as it squeaks, I moan. Combine those sounds with the ones he’s making with his mouth, and the moment is libidinous and sinful. It’s intoxicating to think of all the erotic experiences I could share with Elliott.

  Having no other way to get closer to his mouth, I shove my heels against the mattress and lift my ass. He wraps his fingers around my thighs, digging his fingertips against them. He’s relentless with his tongue, flicking my clit until I unravel against his mouth.

  “Fuck, those sounds … I almost come every time I hear them.” Elliott climbs off the bed and strips at record speed. I take strenuous breaths as he gets a condom from his nightstand and puts it on.

  Getting back on the bed, he positions himself between my legs and lifts them up so that they’re straight, which raises my pelvis, too. He clutches my calves and slides his rock-hard cock into me at a teasing pace.

  Not in a rush, he closes his eyes and slides forward and back, the deliberate, laggard movements hotter, the sensations that much more noticeable.

  As his cock rubs my front wall, I feel the rise in pleasure, the way it’s mounting and intensifying. He’s purposely driving us to the cusp at this speed, and it’s ecstasy.

  “Yes, baby … squeeze my cock just like that. I’m gonna come.” He’s not the only one. He thrusts a little faster, and I’m done, having held on as long as possible.

  My muscles clamp around his dick until I feel it pulsing inside me. His head falls back, and as he growls at the end of his orgasm, I admire his body.