by Kim Karr
Jake tries to play it cool, but I can see past it. “It’s going . . . okay.”
“Oh, yeah? I haven’t seen you talking that much,” I have to say.
He shrugs.
“What’s going on?” Charlotte asks, sounding truly concerned.
Rubbing his jaw, he surprises me when he says, “I’m not sure what to say.”
Charlotte gives him a little laugh. “Jake, just start talking. The conversation will evolve from there. Why not start with her grandfather? I don’t know, maybe ask her if she has pictures of him with his car, or something like that?”
He gives her a couple of nods. “Not a bad idea.”
I’m trying my best not to burst out in laugher because Charlotte giving Jake dating advice is the funniest thing.
“Don’t even, asshole,” he mutters.
“Go get her, Pretty Boy.” I shove him toward the bow.
Turning to face Charlotte, I hang my arms over her shoulders and let the boat sway beneath my feet. “That was nice of you.”
“It was nothing.”
“That’s not true. You could have made fun of him like I would have, yet you took the time to help him out.”
Her arms go around my waist. “He acts all rough and hard, but inside he’s a softy.”
That makes me laugh. “A softy? I might have to disagree there.”
“Well, I think he is.”
“Hey, there’s Collins’ yacht. He’s throwing a party. Who’s coming with me?” Drew exclaims, practically jumping in the water to get over there.
Shading my eyes, I turn to see the sixty-foot yacht just trolling toward the island.
“Tyler Collins?” Shannon asks.
Jake gives her nod.
“I want to go,” she says already standing.
Jake hadn’t even sat down yet. “Let’s go then.”
And just like that splash, splash, splash, goes our three boat mates off to party with the Detroit Tigers.
“Don’t forget, beads for boobs!” I shout.
Jake throws me the finger.
Giving my attention to Charlotte, I ask her, “Do you want to go? I’m sure we can get close enough so we could wade over.”
“I’d rather stay here with you. Unless you want to go?”
“I’m good here,” I tell her and toss the anchor overboard before grabbing my shades and two cold beers. “Come on, we’ll sit up front.”
We spend the next thirty minutes sunning on the bow of the boat, drinking a little more than we should, talking about baseball, music, and movies. Everything between us right now is easy, free, and fun.
Like when we were younger, except we’re not younger, and hormones are raging. Looking over my sunglasses at her, I ask, “You sure you’re okay with us living at the loft?”
She nods her head. “I promise I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”
I take a long pull from my beer. “When do you want to move your things over?”
For a moment she looks stunned by the question. “I don’t know. I don’t really have that much. What doesn’t fit, we could put in the storage unit I have.”
This would be a good time to discuss what to do with the documents she has in the storage unit, but I don’t want to weigh down the moment with reminders of the heavy. “You decide. We can move your stuff in and mine out, or get rid of it all and start over. It’s totally up to you.”
She swallows, looks over at me, and then draws in a small gasp of air. “You’d do that?”
I sit and turn to face her. “I’d do anything for you.”
Setting her beer down, she grabs for my hand and brings it to her lips. “And I believe you.”
“You should.”
As if inspired, she sits up. “Let’s keep what you have. There isn’t much I have that I want to keep anyway. Probably just my coffeemaker.”
“And we could hit up Crate and Barrel and get whatever else you think we need.”
The smile she gives me is sweet. “I’d like that.” The kiss she gives me after is anything but. It’s lips, and tongue, and teeth. Each tempest touch sends the wildness in me spiraling out of control. Clashing, licking, sucking. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s the water, but I need to get her alone.
I pull back. “Come on. Let’s go down to the cabin,” I tell her. “You’ve had enough sun.”
“I have sunblock on. I could put some more on, but honestly I should be fine.”
“Well I’m not,” I growl into her ear. “I need you on me.”
The tiny triangles covering those small perfect tits have little diamonds protruding from them. “Oh,” she gasps before grinning at me.
She gets me.
SLIPPERY WHEN WET
Charlotte
THERE’S NO QUESTION about it—I can’t walk on water. I’m too heavy and I’d sink like a stone. Yet, right now, I have to wonder if I tried, if I could, if I would, because I certainly feel like sinking isn’t even a possibility.
Maybe I’m walking on air.
Jasper unhinges the door to the cabin and stands to the side. I step down and look around. It isn’t as small as I thought it would be. There’s a wet bar, a bathroom, a dresser, and a bed shaped like the bow.
The boat sways as I take a step inside and then turn to see Jasper locking the door behind him. The porthole windows allow a dim view, and I can see the way the muscles in his back flex with his movement, long and strong. His ass, more than perfect, and his strong legs and arms, are all parts of him I can’t wait to touch. When he turns, all I can see is his tight stomach, taut and fine, with a single line of faint hair trailing from his navel into the waistband of his bright-orange board shorts. His belly button is perfection, and all I can think about is dipping my tongue into it. And then there’s his cock, hidden by the fabric covering it, yet eager and waiting for some attention.
I’m not sure when I developed a case of sex on the brain, but I have it bad. At eighteen, I never felt the sexual urges like those around me in high school, at twenty-one the freedom to drink legally didn’t loosen my inhibitions, by twenty-five, I’d given up on the idea of sex being appealing, but now, at twenty-eight, I can’t seem to get enough.
And it’s because of him—not just his body, but his mind and his soul. All of him.
Not drunk, but a little tipsy, I reach around and pull the strings to my bikini top before he’s taken the final step down. Anxious, I’m out of my bottoms before he’s even standing in front of me.
He swallows, meeting my gaze, and breathes out, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
Running my fingers up his chest, I take a step to the side. One, and then another, until somehow I manage to shift us so he’s the one who’s closer to the bed.
His body contracts with pleasure.
I push him back. “You make me feel that way.”
Maybe a little surprised that I’m taking the lead, he pops up on his elbows and inches his way back until his head reaches the scattering of throw pillows. “I can never get enough of you.”
Loving hearing that, I can’t help but think that what happened earlier with my mother should have left me drained. Instead, it seems to have done the opposite—given me strength and courage, an assuredness about myself I never remember feeling. Then again, it could simply be a result of the way Jasper is looking at me. “I want to taste you,” I whisper as I hover over him, bringing my knees to his.
He watches for one stunned moment as my fingers start down his warm, sculpted chest, slowly ascending to the edge of his waistband.
It doesn’t take long for his hands to begin to explore my thighs and move onto my stomach, then up to tweak my nipples. My sex burns with need as I slide my fingers into his swim trunks.
Raising his hips, he helps me ease his bottoms down. Springing out, his straining cock is freed. It’s long, thick, and hot, and in my fist before Jasper has a chance to kick his swim trunks to the ground. It pulses against my palm as I skim my hand upward, and I love tha
t even this slight contact arouses him. When I barely brush the head, Jasper’s hips surge forward, and I can’t help but grin. Making sure he doesn’t move, I grip his shaft, keeping him in place.
He looks down at me, his gaze dark, lustful, and ready. His palms go flat against the mattress. His body is taut with tension and maybe screaming for release.
Lowering myself, I look up at him and return his gaze with the same passion I see in his. As soon as our eyes lock, I mouth the inside of his thigh, tasting lake water and him, and wanting more. I suck a little, lick a little, press my teeth into his flesh, nipping hard enough that he cries out.
I can feel his eyes on me as I draw my tongue up his thigh to his shaft and open my mouth ever so slightly around his crown. Keeping it there, I let my hot breath seep over his even hotter flesh. He shivers and it excites me. Moving slowly, gripping his cock with my good hand, I move it back and forth, letting it brush lightly against my lips.
His hands are still at his sides and he’s scrunching the fabric covering the mattress with his fingers.
When I run my lips along the underside of his cock, stopping along the way to feel the smooth, velvety skin that covers his giant hardness against my tongue, he closes his eyes and pumps his hips. It’s such a primal move that it sets my blood on fire.
Moving a little faster with small, quick flicks of my tongue back up his shaft, I concentrate on the head of his cock and take it into my mouth. Just a little, enough to cover his tip with the dark confines of my wetness.
That’s enough to set him off.
Jasper shudders and his eyes fly open. He’s looking down at me with those brown eyes and want written all over him. He licks his lips and blinks, waiting. That patience he only seems to have for me surfacing.
I wait a little too, allowing my tongue to lick around only the tip of his cock.
“Please,” he says at last. “Please . . .”
Wishing I could hold out a little longer, make him all the more ready for what I want to give him, I know I can’t. Impatient myself, I give in. I just can’t make him wait another minute.
I want to give him what he wants—always and forever.
Engulfing him, I take him into my mouth. Greedy to taste him, I suck him hard, harder than I ever have. I use my hand to follow the path of my tongue and soon the rhythm I create allows me to fuck him with my mouth.
My pussy is swollen and dripping with need, so when he slides his fingers into my hair and anchors them there, pulling just a little hard, he makes me gasp.
His groans of enjoyment send a rippling wave of pleasure tearing through my body. It can’t be possible, but I’m coming and he hasn’t even touched me. As colors fill my vision, I let Jasper fuck my mouth in the way he needs to. Faster and faster, his hips surge forward. My jaw goes slack and that allows him to go deeper. When his cock hits the back of my throat, his groans are louder than I think I’ve ever heard. He’s on the brink, I can tell. And I can’t wait to taste him.
Just as the rainbow of light I’m seeing through my eyes starts to fade, he stops and reaches for me, rolling us so that I’m on my back.
“Hey . . . what are you doing?” I ask feeling dazed.
“This is where I take over,” he pants.
Stunned, I can’t do anything but look at him. “But I—”
He silences me with a heart-stopping kiss. “I know what you want, and the next time I promise I’ll finish in your mouth, but right now, I need to be inside you.”
The shirtless Adonis-like vision of ripped abs and sculpted shoulders is bending down. Long and lean, my mouth waters at the sight, and I concede. “What are you doing now?” I ask impatiently.
Sitting back up, he has my bikini top in his hand. Without a word, he lifts my arms above my head.
I glance up and watch as he uses my top to wrap my wrists, cast and all, a few times, before securing it to a hook where a floatation device is attached. I tug at the straps, my eyes darting to his, and he grins.
A sly, seductive raise of his brow has my insides twisting. “It was either this or that spanking I promised you.”
Swallowing hard, I can’t resist answering, “Maybe you should have let me pick?”
He looks too sure of himself, too cocky. A man who always thinks he knows the answer. “Would you have picked the alternative?”
“You’ll never know,” I purr, my face heating.
“Nah, you wouldn’t have,” he says with a rasp of uncertainty.
I shrug and arch my spine. He’s right, I wouldn’t, but I won’t spill it now.
His palm presses flat to my belly. “Next time we’ll find out,” he promises and kisses me, and kisses me, and kisses me.
Kiss after kiss, his hands and mouth explore my body in the most erotic way. “I’ve been dying to touch these for hours,” he groans as his lips find my breasts, giving them each equal attention. Licking, tugging, and sucking on each one of my nipples before soothing the pain with his tongue.
Slowly, his mouth travels to my stomach, his lips leaving a white-hot path as they trail down my thigh, my ankle, and then back up the other side of my body. Finally, he pauses and centers himself just above me.
Bound, I should be afraid, but I’m not. Not with him.
He puts a finger inside me, then two, stretching me a little. He strokes me in and out, as if his fingers were his cock.
I breathe in, and in, and in, almost forgetting to let the air from my lungs come out until it hisses out in a shuddering sigh. Shameless, I push myself against his hand. Unable to stand the wait any longer, I blurt out, “I thought you couldn’t wait to get inside me?”
Sexual tension fills the room. He laughs, the sound broken by his own harsh intake of breath. “I couldn’t. I can’t,” he hisses and then proceeds to rub the head of his cock around my swollen and very ready pussy, over and over.
Payback.
Not being able to use my hands is getting to me. I’m on the edge and can’t take another minute of waiting. “Jasper, please, I need you,” I plead softly.
And because he’s Jasper, because he never could resist giving me what I ask for, he abandons whatever his plan was and plunges inside me.
My pulse leaps as he fills me and I cry out his name.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he mutters and unties my arms with one tug.
Free to move, I wrap my arms and legs around him. The slight change in angle allows him to bury his cock deeper inside me.
A low cry escapes my throat at the tiny spark of pain that only spurs the pleasure.
Fully inside me, he starts to move. Slow, smooth strokes at first, then after a few moments, faster. Harder. Deeper.
The boats sways and our bodies rock right along with it.
Hard and fast, he moves. I follow, my body writhing beneath him. Soon enough, we’re fucking. Really fucking. Wild. Out of control fucking. And I love it. I love the look on his face. The way he’s making me feel. The scent of sex in the air. Even the sounds we’re making.
“Fuck, oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmurs.
My heart hammers, the beat of it so loud in my ears I can’t even hear the water lapping against the boat.
Our lips crash together at the same pace as our bodies are moving. He’s powering in and out of me, and I love it. In one quick move he’s changing positions. Grabbing my waist with one hand and my ass with the other, he drags me to the edge of the mattress and pulls my legs over his shoulders.
Just like that he’s deeper inside me than he’s ever been. He watches himself slide in and out. I watch him. The way his chest moves at the same rapid pace as his excitement. The way his long cock exposes itself and then disappears. Soon though, I’m finding it hard to concentrate because his harder, deeper thrusts are dragging across my clit and causing tiny sparks of fairytale-like pleasure.
I’m so incredibly turned on that everything inside me draws tighter, knotting, twisting, turning, until I begin to feel like I’m unraveling. When my orgasm str
ikes, it strikes hard. My fingers dig into his skin. I cry out. Blasting colors and waves of light flash before me. A rainbow so vivid, it blinds me. “I’m coming!” I scream in ecstasy.
My pussy clenches and I know he can feel it in his cock because everything about him changes.
Sweat coats his brow. His body goes rigid. His lashes flutter. His lips twist. “I’m coming too,” he murmurs bending to bury his head against my shoulder, biting down as his cock jerks fiercely inside me. And then he thrusts one more time, hard enough to throw us both back down onto the mattress. In that instant that we both split apart, I swear I can feel my inner muscles ripple around his pulsing cock. A roar-like noise rips from his throat as he continues to come. It’s rough and wild, and the sound is spellbinding.
While I lay panting, warmth rushes through my limbs to the tips of my fingers and ends of my toes.
Jasper looks down at me. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it without words. Opens it again. Closes it, and then he flops to his back. One hand beneath his tousled hair and the other pulling me over to him. He’s quiet.
I prop up on my elbow to look at him. “Wow,” I whisper, still picturing the look on his face when he came. It was the hardest he’d ever come with me, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“Yeah.” He exhales slowly, his fingers combing through my hair as he catches his breath.
I smile languorously. “So that was pretty intense.”
“Yeah,” he repeats.
I laugh softly. “Are you going to say anything except, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he repeats again with a cute chuckle.
I crawl closer, resting my chin on his shoulder. “I’m waiting.”
He grins at me and shakes his head, that silky brown hair falling over his eyes.
“At least tell me what you are thinking.”
Still grinning, he pulls me on top of him. “I’m thinking what just occurred between us had to be the best sex of my life.”
Feeling smug, even though I felt the same way, I smile at him and then kiss him on the lips. “Don’t stop there. Go on.”
His head falls to the pillow. “You need to give me a minute to recover before I can have this conversation.”