Adrift: Book Two of The Crashing Tides Duet

by Ruby Rowe

  “Don’t make the mistake I made years ago, because I can tell you right now that the fucking regret will change who you are, leaving you bitter and useless to anyone else.”

  “I’m not taking the decision I have to make lightly. They’re boarding now; I have to go. Wait a second… Take care of her. I’m moving out for a while.”

  He hangs up on me, and I suck in a breath.

  Mother. Fucker.

  Sailor

  “I’m so ready to talk to Jake,” I say to Elliott as he unlocks the door to our condo.

  He exhales loudly and turns to me. “I have to tell you something. I didn’t do it sooner because I worried it would spoil the rest of our trip.”

  The reluctant, dreadful look on his face leaves me feeling as if my stomach’s been cut open and splayed out on the floor of a crime scene.

  “This is about Jake, isn’t it?”

  “He told me he’s staying somewhere else for a while.”

  Shoving the door open, I push past him, drop my shit and stride to Jake’s room. I look around, searching for things that would prove he’s here, but it’s obvious he packed some of his belongings and left.

  From behind, Elliott grips my shoulders, but I pull away, feeling the need to revert to my imaginary bubble where I counted on no one but myself.

  “Everyone leaves. Even Carrie, who I know loves me, has managed to leave me alone.” As I turn around to face Elliott, the tears blanket my eyes to the point he’s blurry. “It’s only a matter of time until you disappear again, too.”

  He grabs my face. “You don’t get to think you’re unlovable just because Jake needs time to figure out if he can be in an unorthodox relationship. It isn’t about his love for you. It’s about his insecurities and whether he possesses the strength to stand up to those who are closed-minded. Like I told you before, he won’t be able to stay away.”

  “I need to talk to him. I can’t help the situation if he doesn’t tell me what his family said and what he’s feeling.” I widen my eyes. “I know where he’s staying.”

  “Where?”

  “Um, shit. He was supposed to tell you about this place, but I’m sure he hasn’t had the chance. He rented an apartment attached to Jeanine’s pottery shop. It was his Christmas gift to me. He said it would be a getaway for us when you were home yet it was our time to be together. A place for Jake and me to have some privacy.”

  Dropping his hands, Elliott purses his lips.

  “That conniving little shit. He’s been thinking about taking you away from me for a while now. This wasn’t something he suddenly felt because of his family’s persuasion.”

  “Jake wasn’t trying to steal me.”

  “Then why were you hesitant to tell me what he did?”

  “It was only because he didn’t inform you ahead of time. We agreed not to keep secrets, so I felt he should’ve run it by you before he rented the apartment. I don’t believe he was plotting anything.” I rub my temples. “Why did I let you two talk me into this? Why did I agree to get closer to you both, ultimately loving each of you more, only so I can be left alone and ruined when this relationship unravels?”

  “You’re not losing anyone.” Elliott wraps me in a bear hug, and I breathe in his clean scent while wanting more than anything for him to be all the safety and love I need. But I love Jake, too, and I’ll be devastated if he doesn’t come back to me.

  “I’m going to go unpack.” I conjure a weak smile and kiss Elliott’s lips. “Despite the turmoil with Jake, I loved my time with you this week. It was fun, relaxing and memorable, so thank you.”

  He leans his head against mine. “Promise me you won’t let Jake’s issues mess up our relationship. Don’t put a wall up between us.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jake

  I rub my towel over my head one last time before I drop it on the floor of the small bathroom. I stroll naked into the bedroom, which is only a few feet away and almost as cramped.

  No one was supposed to take up residence here. The tight quarters were only appealing when I thought I was going to be sharing them with Sailor. I sigh, and as if she can read my mind, my phone buzzes on the bed with a text from her. Seeing her name makes my heart beat faster.

  Sailor: I’ve tried to give you space, but I can’t take it any longer. I miss you … a lot. Please spend New Year’s Eve with me.

  Me: I already told Thatcher I’d come to his party.

  Sailor: Elliott’s working, so we’d be alone.

  Fuck, she can’t spend New Year’s Eve alone. But, is that why she wants to see me? Is it because Elliott won’t be home to keep her company?

  Dammit, I hate that I’m questioning her motives when deep down I know how strong her love is for me. As much as I’m frustrated and confused, I don’t want her to be alone.

  Maybe I should take her to Thatcher’s. The party will be too distracting for her to corner me about our relationship. I’ll only have to keep us off the topic while we’re in the car.

  Me: Would you like to go to Thatcher and Marybeth’s party with me?

  Sailor: I’d love to.

  Me: I’ll pick you up at 8:30.

  Sailor: I’ll be ready. I love you.

  I toss my phone on the bed, and the second it hits the mattress, I groan and grab my damp hair. Fuck. I pick my cell back up.

  Me: I love you, too.

  What am I doing? She’s going to suck me right back in before I’ve had time to figure shit out, and then if I can’t stay with her for good, I’ll have given her false hope.

  I’ll feel like a selfish dick no matter which choice I make, so I do what my aching heart wants and begin to dress.

  ***

  “Sailor, I’m so glad you could make it,” Thatcher says to her at the door as he gives me a wink.

  “Yeah, why don’t you ignore that your most awesome cousin has graced you with his presence?” I reply.

  “What in the hell do you think I was doing?” He smacks my back. “No, I’m only fucking with you. I’m glad you’re both here … the way it should be.”

  I want to tell him to shut the hell up before he adds something to solidify what I’m sure he’s insinuating, which is that he’s glad the two of us arrived without Elliott. “Come on in, and order some cocktails,” he adds.

  I need a damn drink. Every time Sailor began to speak on the way here, I brought up random shit. We burned up a good ten minutes when I asked her what she thought of her little excursion on the yacht.

  During dinner the night before I left Laguna Beach, while Sailor was in the restroom, Elliott told me about how he’d reserved it.

  Reluctantly, Sailor filled me in on the details, her voice only raising an octave when she told me about the dolphins they’d spotted.

  “What would you like to drink?” I ask her.

  “Champagne please.”

  “She’ll have a glass of champagne, and I’ll take a double shot of rum,” I say to the young female bartender at the makeshift bar in the living room. I imagine there’s another bartender in Thatcher’s family room. He never disappoints at parties.

  He and Marybeth have settled into their new house, and I wish I could give Sailor a luxurious place like this. I can envision us now, raising kids in a home of our own and hosting hip parties.

  And whether it’s right or wrong, I can only picture Elliott as a guest, not a man who lives there, banging and impregnating my wife, as well.

  The brunette bartender extends our glasses with a smile, and I gulp my drink like a man in desperate need of fresh water after being washed ashore on a deserted island. I want something to stop these incessant thoughts and the obsession I have about Sailor being only mine.

  “I thought you said rum makes you mean,” she utters, the alarm evident in her voice.

  “Only if I drink too much of it. Let’s mingle.” Hearing chatter from the family room, I walk that way. I’m looking for a crowd, and that’s the perfect nam
e for one. Their noises crowd out the thoughts that threaten to ruin two of the most important relationships in my life.

  We enter the space that’s packed with probably thirty-plus people, and in seconds, Marybeth’s at our side, wanting to talk to Sailor. Good. That should keep her occupied for a while.

  Slipping away, I stroll over to catch up with a couple of my and Thatcher’s mutual friends. We talk sports until I’ve drained my glass. I get a refill, and when I turn around, Harrison, Thatcher’s half brother, approaches me and smiles.

  “Jake, how’s it going?”

  “Good, I guess. How are you?”

  “Awesome as always. I have plenty of money, success, pussy and bourbon. What more could a guy ask for?”

  As he holds up his sloshing tumbler, I watch two women’s eyes dart his way for his vulgar choice in words.

  I’d like to reply that he could ask for the pride of knowing he earned those things, instead of having them handed to him by his rich daddy, but I leave it alone.

  “Sounds like your life’s golden,” I say instead.

  “What about your life, Callister?” He stretches out his hand that’s holding his glass until it’s pushing against my chest. I don’t like him in my personal space.

  He’s drunk already, which means he probably won’t be standing at midnight. “Do you have plenty of those things, or are you having to share more than pussy with that roommate of yours?”

  I shove him away from me, and he struggles not to spill his drink.

  “What did your brother fucking tell you?”

  “Nothing more than what you and I discussed the last time you were here.” He smirks. “I’m only fishing to see if I can take a turn since Sailor seems to be communal property.”

  Nostrils flared, I pull my fist back and punch him square in the nose. Blood squirts from it before I can even draw back again.

  “Jake, stop!” Sailor pleads while hooking her arm around mine. As Harrison groans and curses, all eyes are on me. “Let’s go.” Sailor drags me behind her to the kitchen and empties what little is left of my glass of rum.

  Opening cabinet drawers like she owns the joint, my angel goes into teacher mode. She finds a Ziploc bag and fills it with ice before covering my knuckles with it. Brushing hair from my face, she stares into my eyes.

  “We need to talk.”

  “This isn’t the place.”

  She fists her hip. “Oh, but it’s the place to punch someone in the face? What the hell did he do?”

  “He said you were communal property and wanted to fuck you. Wanna know why he thinks that? I can take a guess.”

  “Shut up. If you only invited me to this party because you felt bad that I’d be alone on New Year’s Eve, I’ll relieve you of that guilt; I’ve spent most of them alone and could certainly handle it again.”

  “I know you could handle it.”

  She glances toward the entrance of the kitchen since people keep peeking inside at us.

  “If guilt’s not why you brought me here, then it’s the other reason I suspected. I know you would’ve cancelled on Thatcher to have time alone with me, so the fact you didn’t jump on that chance tells me you were looking for a buffer.”

  Fed up with all the bullshit between us, I drop the bag of ice in the sink, grip her bicep and pull her down the hallway. We enter Thatcher’s study, where I lock the door behind us.

  Sailor pierces me with a dirty look before she strolls toward my cousin’s clean distinguished-looking desk, surveying the room with each step.

  I follow her, and when she reaches it and turns around, she gasps from how close I am in proximity. I inch closer until her sultry body is backed up against the hunk of cherry wood. Without taking my eyes off Sailor, I grip the desk, pinning her against it.

  She’s inside my cage, and that’s exactly where I want her.

  No thinking.

  No talking.

  Only fucking.

  I want to believe that I can be inside her whenever and wherever I choose.

  I want to dominate her the way she thinks only Elliott can.

  I’m going to show her that I could be enough.

  “It appears you’ve forgotten how much I want you.” Dipping my head, I skim my nose up her neck and breathe in berries. Fucking Christ, I’ve missed her exhilarating scent … an orchard for me to feast upon.

  “That’s your fault,” she spouts.

  I lift my head to stare at my firecracker head-on.

  “Then let me remind you.”

  Sailor

  It has to be the rum.

  Never has Jake lost his temper like tonight or worn this fierce of an expression.

  Never has he submerged us in a well of lust to this depth.

  His alluring irises are shrouded by darkness, a swamp where the vivid green draws you in but the unknown of what’s beneath the sheen of algae leaves you too frightened to enter. He’s intimidating, his heady look drenching my panties.

  Slowly, he takes off the satin sash on my puffy black skirt, and my lip quivers.

  “Hold out your wrists.”

  I exhale a clicking sound as I remove my tongue from where it’s cemented to the dry roof of my mouth. I must’ve also removed the seal holding the dam closed since saliva’s now gushing from my salivary glands.

  “I said for you to hold out your wrists.”

  Swallowing the spit his commanding voice seems to hold the lever to releasing, I stick out my trembling hands. He licks his lips, and this desk is going to be wearing a stain if he keeps up this dominating persona.

  After wrapping the sash around my wrists, he ties it in a knot that leaves long tails of satin. “Get up on the desk, and lie back.”

  Once I hop up on it, I begin to shimmy my butt back, but he clasps my thighs. “No. I want your pussy right at the edge of this desk. Lie down like I said.”

  The second my back makes contact with the wood, I feel the coolness of it through my shimmery silver blouse. Walking around the desk, Jake ties my bound wrists to the arm of the chair sitting behind it. My body is taut, my torso arching…

  I tilt my eyes up to look at him, and as he licks his lips again, I shudder beneath his captivating gaze.

  “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do something like this to you for a long damn time.”

  “Are you sure the Appleton coursing through your veins isn’t inciting this behavior?”

  “Rum’s not controlling me, Princess. Only my love for you. Now, drop the attitude.” Leaning over, he brushes his lips along mine before walking around to the front of the desk. Shoving my skirt up, he removes my heels and plants my feet flat on the desk.

  He drops to his knees...

  “What if Marybeth or Thatcher want inside this room?”

  “I’ll tell them it’s occupied. They’ll get the hint.” He skims his fingers over the thin strip of fabric barely covering my dripping center. “I knew you wanted this from me.”

  He’s right. I’ve always imagined Jake taking control of my body the way Elliott has, but now, what that could mean scares me. I can’t latch on to Jake even more, especially when he could still leave me.

  Hooking his finger around my thong, he leans in with his tongue and licks right down the middle of my pussy. I decide in that gasp of breath to forget my worries.

  What is it about panties being pulled to the side? Damn, the way the fabric touches my skin while fingers or a tongue caress my bundle of nerves… It feels heavenly. I whimper, the need for more paramount.

  “Fuck, there’s warm honey between your legs.”

  I want so badly to grab hold of his hair and bring his mouth closer, but when I pull on my arms, the chair only gives me a few inches of freedom before it slams against the desk.

  “Please, Jake. Please put your mouth on me.”

  Gifting me his searing lips and eager tongue, he goes to work, licking and sucking my pussy. His stubble abrades my thighs, and the feel of my thong teases me, too.

  In case it never happens
again, I burn to memory every dizzying tingle and frenzied touch. Every sensation Jake elicits is rapture, and I never want to forget it.

  He pulls his mouth away, and I whimper, desperate for more. Raising up until our eyes meet, he drags a finger through my juices and sticks it between his lips, pinning me with a calculating stare.

  “Like I already knew … sweet as honey.”

  I close my eyes and grapple for air. My coiled body’s a grenade, and I’m barely able to hold in the pin. I feel his fingertip slide down my ass crack and slip underneath my thong. I buck … the pleasure too much.

  “Jake, I’m going to come.” He circles my asshole with the wet finger he’d had in his mouth. “Oh, Godddd.” I barely grab another glimpse of the abundance of desire in his vivid eyes before he drops again and eats me out like a starving man.

  He pushes his finger inside my ass, and I’m done for. I squeeze my eyelids shut as I release the pin on the grenade. My orgasm splinters into a million particles of pleasure that slice through every neuron, every capillary, and every pulsing vein. The heat rushes through my skin like a lit trail of gas racing to start a fire.

  Jake yanks my thong down my legs before I hear him undoing his pants and climbing onto the sizeable desk. His muscular thighs flank me, guard me … hold me prisoner.

  I open my eyes, and I see through the swamp color of his irises, the darkness below the water. He’s been holding back for months.

  He clenches the edge of the desk behind my head with his strong grip to the point the wood crackles by my ears. My legs are shaking, my feet barely able to stay grounded to Thatcher’s desk.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll have trouble walking out of this room. I’m going to ensure you never forget what happened here.”

  Ramming his cock into me, he’s the archer, causing my torso to bow as he fills me to the hilt. The invisible arrow pierces my soul, and the wanted scar will die with me. I’ll never forget this moment.

  He draws back again and slams into my pussy. He’s rougher than he’s ever been, burying so deep that I’m forced to suck in a breath and hold the flames in my lungs. I feel a cramp in my hip from where I’m splayed open for him to use–fill–fuck.