Going Down (Divemasters #1)

by Jayne Rylon

  It had been a while since she’d indulged in sex with a real live partner. He had her vibrator beat both in length and girth. So when he wedged inside her, it took some adjusting to make him fit.

  “Shh.” He held her still as he worked into her pussy bit by bit. “I’m gonna give you all of me, don’t you worry about that. Just let me take care of you. My way.”

  When she relaxed, he slipped another few inches deeper within her.

  They both groaned.

  “That’s right. Take me.”

  She did.

  So he kept giving.

  Each time she thought they couldn’t possibly be connected any tighter, he showed her that they could. With every push and retreat, he simultaneously stoked her lust and delivered additional pleasure.

  And that was before he even really began to thrust.

  Archer smothered her with kisses. He supported himself on his forearms, which were braced somewhere near her shoulders. His fingertips caressed her cheeks while he rippled his body above her, making contact with her breasts, belly, and pelvis.

  Then he did it faster.

  Harder.

  With a wicked twist that pressed his abdomen against her clit in the most delicious way possible. It was at that precise moment that Waverly realized exactly how badly she’d underestimated him and his abilities as a lover.

  “How the hell can I not remember this?” She moaned and hugged him tighter, probably scratching the shit out of his back in the process. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “While you blew my mind, I probably wasn’t this great in bed back then. I’ve learned a few tricks in the past decade.” Unapologetically sexy, he demonstrated one or two then, sucking on her neck somewhere below her ear as he ground his pelvis against exactly the right place to make her spasm around him.

  “Not sure I caught that one. Better show me again,” she panted.

  He did.

  Repeatedly.

  “Oh, fuck!” she screamed. “Archer!”

  “Am I hurting you?” His stride hitched then, making his cock slip from her pussy. “Scaring you?”

  “Only because you stopped. Now I’m afraid you might leave me hanging. Get back in there and finish the job.”

  “I’m not used to taking orders when I’m fucking, Waverly.” Something in his stare made her shivery at the revelation.

  It wasn’t threatening when he admitted it. It was exhilarating.

  “Then I guess you’d better do something to shut me up. You know, like fuck me some more. Harder.” She didn’t know where these suggestions were coming from. They weren’t like her either.

  Though he plunged back inside her body and rode her furiously, her plan backfired.

  Instead of keeping her quiet, his jackhammering hips only made her more vocal.

  Waverly put one arm over her head, palming the headboard to keep him from shoving her into the wall with his frenzied fucking. She cried his name over and over.

  Pleaded for him to get her off.

  For all she knew, she might have begged him to marry her if it meant he’d do this with her every day of their lives. There was no telling what he drew out of her during those impossibly long minutes. One thing was certain, though—it was something that no one else had ever evoked.

  The next time he kissed her, she knew she was going to shatter.

  She tightened around his stroking shaft, trying to keep him as deep within her as possible. Sweat slicked his chest, making him glide over her.

  And when she felt the first flutters of orgasm, she called to him.

  “Yes, that’s it. Come for me, Waverly,” he grunted. “I’m right there with you. Going to fill you so full. Fuck.”

  Who knew dirty talk did it for her?

  Archer did, now.

  She drummed her heels on the bed as she flew apart, afraid that she might never recover from bliss this complete. Her heart nearly exploded in her chest when he began to shoot deep in her pussy, branding her with the rush of his come.

  Feeling him share this ecstasy with her set her off again. She wrung him dry.

  Archer collapsed onto his back, making the entire bed shake as if there had been an earthquake. Then he patted his heaving chest, calling her to him. She gladly went, cuddling into the crook of his arm. Her head rested perfectly on his shoulder and she slung a thigh over his. He kissed her forehead then lay still, recovering.

  It took a few minutes before she could even think straight again. What they’d shared hadn’t been perfect, or careful, or planned. It had been authentic. An outpouring of relief and passion that had been stored up for years.

  Of course, it was also exhausting.

  When she became aware of their surroundings, she wanted nothing more than to pack up and leave so they could do this all over again. Somewhere not so creepy.

  “I have to admit. I never pictured my first time—actually, second, I guess—with you going down in a place like this.” Waverly chuckled as she glanced around at the yellowed wallpaper, which peeled up at the corners.

  “Try not to look. Next time we do it in a hotel, I’ll make the reservations.” He put his hand over her eyes and drew her closer still.

  “Yeah, right. You’ll ask Banks for help.”

  “Even better idea.”

  Waverly snuggled against him, sighing in bone-deep contentment.

  She stayed there, utterly relaxed, until her body refused to listen to her brain’s demands any longer.

  “Archer?” she mumbled on a groan, hating to ruin the moment.

  “Hmm?” He sounded half-asleep. Content and relaxed in a way she never remembered seeing him before, unless it had been for a split second when he reclined on the swim line after their snorkel last week.

  Her stomach protested. Loudly. “I’m starving.”

  “I don’t suppose this place has edible room service?” he sighed.

  “Negative.” She shook her head, sending her hair flying.

  He ran his fingers through the messy waves and smiled softly at her. “You’re so fine. Leave your hair down from now on. Loose, like this. It suits you.”

  “Thanks.” She shoved him off the edge of the bed. “Now get up. Before you give me any ideas. Because I’m seriously going to pass out if you don’t feed me soon.”

  Archer growled. “Oh, I’ll feed you all right. Once we’re back on the ship.”

  Though she realized he wasn’t talking about lunch, she couldn’t help but ask, “How long is that going to take? Can I swing by McDonald’s or whatever the equivalent is here on our way to the airport?” Honestly, she didn’t recall from her harried trip here. Her mind had blanked.

  “I’ll buy you a whole damn restaurant chain of your own if you get it to go.” He eyed her with an entirely different sort of hunger. “I’m going to be hard again before we even make it there. I don’t suppose road head is an option when you’re the pilot, huh?”

  “Sky head,” she corrected as they yanked their clothes on nearly as fast as they’d shed them. “And sorry, no.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll entertain myself by watching you handle the stick and being jealous.” He grinned.

  Just then, Waverly heard voices outside the broken door. Maybe someone on staff had noticed the damage. Oops.

  Except they weren’t speaking Spanish.

  Archer noticed that, too. He put his finger over his lips and stepped between her and the door.

  Without wasting a second, Waverly grabbed the gun off the nightstand and unpacked her bullets. She had not found Archer again, and begun to make things right, just to get jumped by some street thugs who might do more than steal their wallets.

  Archer was wealthy. That made him a target wherever he went.

  Confirming her suspicions, the dresser rocked. They were trying to get in.

  Fifteen

  “You need anything else out of there?” Archer pointed to her suitcase.

  “No.”

  “Then I think we’re going to have to go ou
t the back way.” He lifted his chin toward the rickety fire escape outside the window. At least it had that.

  She nodded.

  They hadn’t made it there before the door splintered and two guys toppled in over the tipped furniture.

  “Get the window open!” he shouted. No use for subtlety now. “I’ll take care of them.”

  She thought that was an odd call given that she was holding a gun, but there wasn’t any time to sit there and bicker. So she yanked on the window.

  Painted shut, of course.

  Waverly wrapped one of her discarded shirts around her fist and the pistol, then smashed the window as she’d been taught. She knocked out the remaining glass as best she could, then turned back to Archer. He had a mean right hook, she noted, as if this were just another training maneuver.

  Shaking off shards of glass and the shirt covering her weapon, she leveled it at the intruders.

  “Stop!” she shouted. “Or I will shoot.”

  They hesitated long enough for Archer to sprint to the window and dive out, testing the rusty fire escape. Fortunately, it held. He stuck his hand through the opening a moment later and helped her climb through with only minor scratches.

  When they hit the street level, they ran around to the front of the hotel, screaming for Captain Alex’s officer to get his ass in gear. To his credit, he didn’t ask questions, simply kept up as they made their way to the rental car Archer had left in the lot across the street.

  He drove. She sat shotgun, her pistol ready yet held out of sight as they tore down the street toward the airport.

  “Guys?” The officer tried a few times to buckle his seatbelt then gave up as Archer flew around corners like he was driving that Lamborghini Banks had promised him.

  “Did you see two men come inside just now? One about my height, the other six inches shorter? Both on the bruiser side of the spectrum?”

  “Uh…maybe?” the officer, Ted, stammered.

  What was up with that?

  Was he in on whatever had almost happened? Or had he been sleeping on the job?

  Archer looked at her, shooting her a look that clearly said stay alert.

  Yep. No problem there.

  She probably had enough adrenaline in her system between the orgasms he’d given her and the scare the bad guys had given her to keep her awake for a week. Her fingers drummed on her knee.

  After ten miles, winding through dense city streets, Archer slowed. There hadn’t been a single sign of the guys from the hotel or any other pursuit, so they started to relax. At least she calmed down from, say, a nine-point-five on the Oh Shit scale to a solid seven.

  Bad luck? Could be. Nothing to completely freak out about. Right?

  Waverly laughed internally at that. How fucked up did your life have to be that after having your afterglow snuffed out by muggers you thought hey, that wasn’t so awful?

  “What’s funny about this?” Archer threw up one hand while the other guided the car proficiently through traffic. He was a great driver.

  That had her squirming in her seat.

  He peered at her weapon, shaking his head.

  “Are you intimated by the size of my gun, Archer?” She spared a glance at him, lifting one brow dramatically.

  “Only when you aim it at me.” Now he was laughing, too. “You know this is not normal right? You’re not supposed to enjoy yourself when you’re being chased by thugs.”

  “Eh. I’ve lived through worse.”

  He slid his free hand to her and squeezed her thigh before returning it to the wheel. Then he addressed the bewildered and slightly green officer in the backseat. “Hey, Ted. Get Banks on the phone. Tell him you’re going to need a ride home in a second chopper since ours is a two-seater. You’ll have to take it to Aruba, and we’ll send a tender in for you, since Waverly will be on our pad. Make sure he has something ready for her to eat as soon as we land. Also, I need him to settle up Waverly’s hotel bill and pay for some damage.”

  The guy nodded and took care of the details.

  Waverly almost mentioned that she could make two trips to transport Archer and then Ted, but she figured it was for the best if she didn’t. Obviously that was where Archer was going with this, too.

  But was he concerned for her or did he want her to himself when they got back?

  She figured she knew the answer to that when he only stopped long enough to clean out the mini bags of peanuts from a vending machine in the crew lounge at the private airport before hustling her out onto the launch pad. “Let’s get you the hell away from here.”

  When they were safely tucked into his helicopter, she paused to toss back a few handfuls of the snack he’d given her. With her mouth full of nuts, she said, “Mmm, salty. Probably not the kind you imagined me eating when you asked about sky head, huh?”

  Though he laughed, he was still tense, so she tried again.

  “Feel free to show me how you handle your stick while I play with this one.” She winked at him as she fired up the engines.

  It might have sounded flippant, but if she didn’t joke, she might freak out. What the hell was happening? Who would have thought active duty would have been less dramatic than retirement?

  “Definitely no distractions today. Take us home, please, Waverly.”

  Once they were airborne, she took a moment to appreciate the view. It never failed to amaze her. Archer had the sea. This was her world, and she loved it every bit as much.

  “How mad is Miguel going to be that you got to fly with me before he did?” she asked over the headset as they picked up speed, flying directly toward the ever-changing coordinates sent to her by the Divemaster’s systems.

  Landing on a moving target was always an exciting challenge. One she was more than capable of executing even in her current condition.

  “He’ll probably get over it by the time we turn fifty.” Archer didn’t seem too disturbed.

  Miles of gorgeous blue water streaked beneath them as they raced back to the Divemaster. Lost in the familiar rhythm of flying and the gorgeous landscape they zipped through, Waverly felt like their trip had just begun when her instruments told her the Divemaster would be in sight any moment.

  Archer finally broke the silence. “I’ve never seen something up top come close to being as beautiful as what I see underwater.” When she glanced over, he wasn’t looking at the spectacular scenery or the megayacht where he did good while having fun.

  He was staring at her.

  Sixteen

  “Do you still need me to fly you somewhere this afternoon?” Waverly asked the next day as she emerged from their over-the-top bathroom, which could easily have passed for a high-end spa. Funny, he didn’t think of it as his quarters anymore. Overnight, she’d changed his perspective on everything.

  It felt right when she shared his space. Less lonesome and wasteful.

  For the first time, he found himself actually enjoying the deluxe appointments, proud he could ensure her comfort and pamper her as she deserved.

  Naked, she tipped her upper body to one side so to blot water from the long length of her hair with a thick towel. The motion put her perfect-handful breasts and the soft dip of her waist on display. She didn’t resemble models he’d seen in either fashion or jack-off mags. Not overly voluptuous or stick-thin, either.

  That didn’t matter. To him, she was the ideal woman. Her fit and healthy proportions had him regretting his decision not to shower with her. Except he’d had to finish arranging some final details before they left.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” He made sure she couldn’t see his face when he replied. Didn’t want to give any of his plans away. Unlike most people, she knew him well enough to recognize when he wasn’t being entirely upfront.

  She laughed. “You’re the boss, Archer. Literally.”

  “Should I fire you?” he asked, in all seriousness. It had been weighing on his mind as the connection between them strengthened, turning into something precious that he was afraid to s
ever with bullshit like this. “I mean, I don’t want you to think of me as your employer. We’re equals, Waverly. In our relationship, and in what we do here on the Divemaster.”

  “It’s up to you.” She strolled over to him then, probably intending to use her nudity to her advantage, though he didn’t mind. It was a highly effective strategy. After placing a quick kiss on his cheek, she said. “Let me put it this way…you know how even if you never got paid for it, you’d keep diving?”

  He nodded, reaching for her hip.

  She slapped his fingers away then abandoned him in favor of rummaging through the dresser, which also meant her ass was on display for him to ogle. Banks had waved his fairy godfather wand or something, sending one of the housekeeping staff on a shopping spree at his request. They’d stocked her wardrobe with sundresses, bikinis, and killer underwear so she had selections beyond her Banks Foundation uniform.

  “Archer?”

  He had to think back for a moment as he watched her shimmy into a skimpy pair of panties. He was going to order Banks to give himself a giant Christmas bonus this year. “Yes? Of course, I love diving. Doing it for a living was really just a way to survive while I did what I wanted anyway.”

  “Flying is the same for me. Except I need an aircraft to pilot. So as long as you supply that, I’ll gladly schlep you anywhere you want to go. Because it means I get to do what I love most.” She smiled slowly at him then as she finished clasping the bra he already couldn’t wait to peel off her later. “Make that second most.”

  It was going to be harder than he had thought to keep his hands to himself until they arrived at their destination.

  “Okay. If you’re going to do the work regardless, you deserve to be paid for it. But I need you to understand that I don’t see you as hired help. In fact…” An idea came to him then.

  “Yes?”

  “How about you ditch that uniform? I feel kind of sleazy lusting after you when you’re wearing it.” He wouldn’t tell her about his true stroke of genius until he’d already made it official. That way, she couldn’t argue. Or refuse.