by Karen Rock
Game on.
He tugged his tank from his waist, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, the cool air in the berth making his abdominal muscles contract. When the shirt reached shoulder height, he pulled it off and circled the fabric over his head before tossing it at her feet. One side of his mouth lifted.
There.
Nolee sucked in her cheeks, her look of approval filling him with pleasure, strong and tart. Had she thought he’d back down? She was the one who’d been trying to remind him just how bold he used to be...not just when it came to saving lives, but in his own life, too. The one behind closed doors. How daring they both could be.
He unfastened his belt buckle then slowly slid the leather through the loops before dropping it to the floor. His fingers hesitated a moment above his straining zipper.
Go time.
He slid the iron teeth apart and pushed the fabric down over his hips, dropping his jeans so they pooled at his feet. The air slid across his bare ass and his rock-hard cock, her sharp intake of air the only sound in the room.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, fairly sure it was a rhetorical question given the way her eyes roamed over his body, lingering on his bobbing erection, the shallow breaths coming from her parted lips.
“Get over here,” she croaked, blinking fast, scooting forward to the edge of her berth.
He reached her in two steps and lifted her, squealing, against him. He turned in a circle, her thighs clenched around his waist, breathing in her mouthwatering, feminine smell. At last, he slid her down along the length of his body, hard and tight for wanting her.
“Is this what you want?” he growled once her toes grazed the swaying floor.
“Yes,” she gasped, then she reached to a shelf behind him.
Sheathing himself in the condom she produced, Dylan forgot every reason he’d given himself to follow her lead and grabbed it himself.
Once he’d slid off her panties, he lowered himself back onto the bed, gathered her in his arms and positioned her over his lap, straddling him. Her thighs spilled over his so she was right where he wanted her. “I’m not nearly done with you yet,” he vowed.
A fleeting smile danced over her mouth, eyes glittering with satisfaction. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be done for a very long time.”
She made a show of sucking on her finger and then circled the tip of his cock with it. Teasing. His groin clenched in an agony of pleasure.
If he didn’t give in to this insistent need soon, he’d explode.
Gripping her hips, he lifted her, savoring the feel of feminine flesh as he nudged his way past her entrance. The oceanic scent of her skin rose from her neck and shoulders to intoxicate him. He inhaled deeply.
Her eyes widened as he eased himself all the way inside, dark hair cloaking her tawny skin as she fell against his body. Something softened inside him at the way she gave herself to him, so totally uninhibited and unselfconscious. She was trusting in her complete submission, allowing him to take control.
Gone was Captain Arnauyq and in her place was Nolee, the woman who’d once rocked his world...still did. She trusted him enough to let down her guard. Unexpected tenderness threatened to level him as she wound her arms around him, holding on to him as if she wouldn’t ever let go.
He didn’t want to acknowledge the deepening, resurging connection he felt to Nolee, but it seemed suddenly to be there as naturally as his next breath. It went far beyond simply rekindling an old flame.
How had she justified trusting him again this way? And how the hell had he ended up thinking this now, when he was sliding between her thighs and the blood pounded through his ears louder than the swells outside?
But as her dark eyes looked into his, so giving and warm, he knew he would do everything in his power to make sure that trust of hers wasn’t misplaced. She commanded him and he commanded her. It was a gut-check responsibility. Not one he would take lightly. Especially given his limited time in Kodiak. Nobody would hurt Nolee on his watch. Even him.
Especially him.
Then she cupped his face and kissed him, swiveling her hips, and all else was lost in a tide of pure sensation.
Except the need to imprint himself on her memory.
He gripped her hips, lifting her high so that he withdrew from her completely, and then he buried himself inside her all over again, hoping he could find the hedonistic rhythm that would make him forget all about this deepening bond he felt for her.
In a state of mental frenzy, he palmed her delicious ass and worked her hips to accommodate a faster pace, willing her to understand his need to forget. To lose himself in her. He thrust into her again and again, accelerating, faster, harder, nudging her to her own peak. Only when her back arched with a tension that gripped her whole body, her shrieks muffled against his mouth, her thighs squeezing his in a death grip, did he allow himself to hurtle over that edge with her.
Release came in one butt-kicking moment after another in a successive chain of spasms. He fell back onto the bed, Nolee in his arms. A primal satisfaction coursed through him long afterward, a pleasure that went beyond physical to a deep sense of rightness at being there with her. Too tired, too replete to question the feeling, he merely held her.
She dropped to his side and he cradled her in his arms. Within moments, her breath eased into an even rhythm, her eyes closed. Looking at her, he felt damn privileged to hold her. She was special. Unique. His first and only love. Not the kind of woman to be trifled with.
Yet he was in no position to offer her the serious relationship she deserved. Because as much as Dylan enjoyed his time with her, and despite their blazing reconnection, he knew he could never give up the nomadic lifesaving job that had always been his personal mission—not for any woman, even Nolee.
It was something she’d understood and accepted nine years ago, even before he had, when she’d let him go. The ultimate sacrifice. An act of true love. His heart clenched in his chest as he smoothed her hair. She would never leave this area, and he would never stay...
Could they enjoy each other now and walk away in a couple of weeks without looking back?
His eyes slid closed, and he rested his chin atop her head. Listened to her now regular breathing, his arms tight around her. One thing he did know was that he could not let her go.
Damned if he knew his way around their situation.
But he did know he wasn’t ready for it to end.
Not now.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
11
NOLEE SLOWLY SWAM to consciousness, moored in Dylan’s arms. A thick quilt enveloped them. It kept out the cool, damp air that flowed through the cracked-open porthole and protected the body heat that glowed inside their love nest.
Nestled against Dylan’s steely contours, Nolee replayed last night’s sensational sex. She squirmed backward and fitted her bottom snugly into the curve of his muscular side. Rock-hard arms tightened around her reflexively.
They’d vowed to make the most of their time together, enjoy one another physically while keeping things from getting emotional. She’d hoped that by taking charge last night, she wouldn’t be as vulnerable. But the tenderness that now seized her, the sense of completeness she felt lying in his arms, as though a part of her, long missing, had just been returned to her, called into question all of her assumptions.
She might be older, wiser, but her heart had stayed constant, still opening for Dylan as easily as ever. It terrified her.
Returning to sleep was definitely out of the question.
A long, low ship horn reverberated across the sea. The Pacific Dawn answered. Nolee slit open her eyes, hoping the day hadn’t yet dawned. She wasn’t ready to face last night’s impulsive actions.
She took a fortifying breath of briny ocean air and peered around her. The world wa
s gray and shadowed. Darn. Sunrise and reality were only moments away.
She thought about waking Dylan, leading him outside to share this sunrise the way they always used to, then stopped. She was getting way ahead of herself. They had less than two weeks until the opilio season ended and they went their separate ways.
How foolish to imagine, even for one unguarded moment, that they could have a second chance. They’d agreed that this could only be a physical affair. A time-limited, no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached sexual adventure, which should make her happy, but left her unsettled instead.
Dylan’s deep breathing rumbled in his chest and vibrated against her back. She hated to wake him from such a peaceful sleep. They had another hard day ahead of them setting pots, and he needed this rest.
Hopefully, he’d keep sleeping so she could sort out her feelings. She inhaled his musky, masculine scent. The longer she lingered, the less clearly she could think.
A lonely rush of chilled air wafted over her as she emerged from his arms. Quickly she tightened the blanket around him. He stirred slightly, his arms reaching out into her now-empty space. A sigh escaped his parted lips, but he didn’t wake. The hard planes of his face relaxed back into an impossibly handsome visage.
After dressing, she hurried outside to her favorite spot on the bow. Behind her, stacked steel pots rose twenty-five feet. They blotted out the wheelhouse, kept her from Stu’s watchful gaze and gave her the privacy she craved to settle herself before she took the wheel for another fifteen-hour shift.
She took a fortifying breath of the briny ocean. In the distance, she spotted a large black ship with a distinctive motorcycle figurehead. Captain Bill’s Easy Rider. Must be heading back to Dutch Harbor, she guessed, given its direction.
Her hair billowed behind her as she leaned against the rail. Across the semi-flattened arc of the horizon a glowing crack sheared into the dwindling dark as the Pacific Dawn drove through growingly rough seas. The sky was gray and oppressive, streaked with bloody orange trails, the low-hanging clouds full and purple tinged on the horizon.
A storm.
She didn’t need a weather report to see the telltale signs of another gale. Her stomach churned along with the crashing swells, filled with uncertainty. Having Dylan on board had tipped the careful balance she’d made of her life. He was an exhilarating and generous lover, giving as much or more than he took. And what he gave...a shivering warmth rattled over her bones despite the frigid temperatures. He alone knew her body. How to make her scream with delight, writhe in exquisite agony. He could make her die slowly in his arms and then breathe life back into her with a single, searing kiss. He knew how to touch her in places no one else could.
What if her heart gave itself to him as easily as her body?
Her gloved fingers tightened on the rail. If she got too attached over the next two weeks, she’d be devastated when he left. She might not be able to let him go or worse...she’d be tempted to leave everything to follow him if he asked.
Please don’t let him ask.
Boots clomped behind her. Nolee’s back stiffened as she was engulfed in Dylan’s powerful embrace. He rested his head atop hers, pulling her close.
“Morning, beautiful,” Dylan murmured low and husky in her ear, as if her thoughts had conjured him.
Heavy clouds blackened the horizon.
Nolee’s traitorous heart drummed, nearly drowning out the rising waves.
“Looks like rain,” she replied, concern rising. Lightning forked, an ominous rumble confirming her prediction.
“Red sky at night, sailors’ delight, red sky in the morning, sailors take warning.” He tossed out the old adage as he trailed a molten flow of kisses down her neck, wreaking havoc with her senses and her willpower, creating another kind of storm inside her.
It would be difficult to keep things light between them.
“Then you should be warned,” Nolee managed, breathless from his touch. She twisted slightly around to peer up at him. “We’d better get going before the downpour arrives. Plus, someone might see us.”
It was a weak objection, token really, since she made no move to step away. Couldn’t if she tried, she admitted to herself. It felt perfectly right to be standing here with Dylan, the ocean at their feet, the rest of the world falling away.
“They’re all snoring like logs.” Dylan’s devil-may-care smile flashed, as electric as the air crackling around them.
“Did Stu see you leave my room?”
“Nah.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “I ducked outside while he was in the head.”
“Good.” She breathed out a relieved sigh.
“Ashamed of me?” Dylan eyebrows slashed downward, his inscrutable eyes narrowing, at odds with his teasing tone. He released her, then leaned his side against the rail. The wind ruffled his flattened curls and his nose flared.
“No. I don’t want to give the crew any more reasons to doubt me.”
“The crew adores you, Nolee.”
Her lungs labored to push against the heavy weight now pressing on her chest. “I haven’t made them any real money. That last haul was average at best, and we need to do better than that or we won’t make quota.”
Dylan squinted at the Easy Rider’s silhouette. “So call my uncle. Ask for help.”
“No, I—I—can’t.” She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering at a sudden, icy gust that whipped off the surf.
He gently raised her hood, then carefully fastened the Velcro closure. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Dylan, you know why I need to do this alone.”
“I don’t think I do, Nolee.” His gloved hands slid down her arms to tangle in hers. “You never wanted to talk much about your life outside the ship back when we were together.”
At the concern in his voice, her heart fluttered. She’d always been ashamed of her family’s grinding poverty...had brushed it off, mostly, when she’d talked about it in the past. But suddenly she wanted to be real with him. Emotional currents pulled at her, sweeping her off balance, loosening her tongue.
“All my life I had to depend on others for everything. Where I would sleep, what I would eat...if I would eat.” She shivered as she remembered nights she’d gone to bed hungry, questioning how much she mattered in a world that took hardly any notice of her, one where she made barely a ripple. “I promised myself I’d call the shots someday. Control my life. Never go hungry or sleepless or without again.”
“You could’ve stayed on the boat with me and Bill year-round, not just when we were fishing.”
“No,” she said fiercely. “Then I would’ve depended on you, too, and I couldn’t have that. Never you.”
He squeezed her hands then drew her close against him, smoothing a hand down her back. “Why, Nolee? What did I do to make you doubt me?”
She tensed against him and her gaze swept out over the horizon. “You’re a man.”
“And all men let you down,” he prompted.
She opened her mouth to reply but the answer stuck in the back in her throat, swelled.
“You’re talking about your dad.”
Her eyes stung, and she turned around in his arms to face the brisk breeze stirring the waves. She shook her head fiercely. Denial.
“I don’t care about him.”
“Not even when you were little?”
Silence. Her breath rasped in her throat. Grated against the sandpaper of her tongue. In. Out. In. Out.
At last she said, “I wanted a PO box.”
“Come again?”
“A PO box. I begged my mother to get one because we moved so much. I thought if my dad ever wrote me, his letter wouldn’t reach me. If he ever came back for me, he’d never find me.”
“Oh, Nolee...”
The break in his voice had her braci
ng. She wouldn’t let anyone feel sorry for her. She was to be taken seriously. Respected. Not pitied. Not dismissed.
“It’s okay. I mean, I knew he’d never come back for someone like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dylan turned her so that they faced each other again, their sides against the bow. The sky drizzled, cold stinging sheets.
“I’ve never achieved anything, never done anything special with my life. I’m nothing. Nothing without...” She gestured, sweeping her arm out to encompass the entire deck.
“This ship? Your quota? Nolee. None of that defines you. And you mean a lot to many people. Especially me.”
“Dylan. Don’t.”
“Don’t what, Nolee?”
“Don’t make me depend on you.” Ashamed of her weakness, she stepped close and burrowed into him. Spoke into his chest. “Don’t make me need you. Not again.”
He smoothed a shaking hand over her hair. “I don’t know how much of this I can control.”
She pulled back. “Me, neither. And that scares the hell out of me. I’d better go and relieve Stu.”
His eyes searched hers. “I’ll wake the crew. Call my uncle, Nolee. It’s not a weakness to ask for help. You’re not the girl you used to be.”
Pleasure ripped through her at his words. He was right. She wasn’t that hungry, scared, powerless little girl anymore, forced to accept others’ help. She decided when to reach out to others and right now, with her quota a dwindling dream, it was time to admit she couldn’t do this alone.
“See you tonight,” he whispered against her lips before capturing them in a head-spinning kiss. Then he strode across the slick deck and disappeared from view.
A half hour later, up inside the wheelhouse, Nolee picked up her handheld and spoke into it.
“Bill. Bill. Bill. This is Nolee—do you copy?”
After she repeated the question a few times, Captain Bill’s voice sounded through the speaker.
“Nolee, this is Captain Bill, over. How the hell are ya, kid?”