by Maribel Fox
“Gonna tell me what’s going on?”
I sigh, turning the cup in my hand.
“Do you think I’m wasting my time?”
Miles stiffens, and the change in his body language is enough to make me look up, head tilted to one side.
“With what?” he asks.
“Being here. This search. All of it? I don’t know why I’m asking you. I already know the answer,” I grumble, shaking my head. And I know his answer, too. Of course, they don’t match up, so the one thing I don’t know is what that means for me.
“I came out here trying to prove something, and all I’ve done is prove the naysayers right. There’s nothing out here. I’ve made a laughingstock out of myself and my career. I don’t know if I can ever show my face back in my lab again — or if they’ll even want me after an embarrassment like this… And for what? Some sparkly rocks I don’t even have anymore?” I snort, shaking my head, tears brimming up hot and fast now, threatening to make me look even crazier. I don’t know if I can hold it in any longer though.
Tea sloshes inside the mug as I bring it up to my lips with a shaky hand, every breath ragged enough that I’m sure it’ll be the one to break into a sob.
“Wait… What? What happened to the—?”
“It’s gone,” I answer, voice barely a whisper. “It’s all gone. The maps, the evidence—”
Miles scowls, and it’s clear he doesn’t know what to make of the new information, trying to piece things together with the limited information he’s been given.
“Your ex?” he finally asks, connecting the dots better than I thought he would.
“I’m sure. I can’t imagine anyone else would even know about it. But there’s nothing there. For all the time we’ve spent, all the money spent, there’s really… nothing.”
For so long I’ve been clinging onto whatever tiny sliver of hope I could find, but it’s all crashing down now. Now I have to face facts that I have nothing to show for my months in Lupine Bay, for the dwindling balance in my savings account.
Miles moves closer, inching his way around the booth close enough that the hairs on my arms stand at full attention, like my skin is waking up, ready to be touched by him.
Being close to him always has that effect, and I think there’s a part of me that wanted to come here because of it. For the distraction.
For one last shot before I leave. After this, after losing all my research, there’s no point in staying. I’m sure that’s what Trenton was hoping to accomplish, I just don’t know why when I’ve made it abundantly clear I want nothing to do with him anymore.
Pure assholery, maybe. Tough to say.
But I don’t want to think about Trenton right now. Not with Miles this close, giving me a look that says he’s hoping for the same thing I am.
“I wouldn’t say there’s nothing,” Miles says softly. “There’s definitely something.”
Is he still talking about the bay, or something else now? This tension between us maybe?
Even with the light on the inside of the cabin is dim, usually lit from sun streaming through the windows along the hull. The darkness makes it feel like I’m closer to him, our shadows already touching even though we haven’t made the leap ourselves yet.
Yet, listen to yourself.
“A few sparkly rocks?” I scoff.
“And the boulders, don’t forget those. We can still map that, still dive for more clues, it’s not over until—”
“You aren’t sick of coming up empty yet? It’s a wild goose chase.”
Suddenly, Miles’ hand is on mine. I have to look up, into his dark brown eyes, lost in the intensity and sincerity there.
“If there’s something out there to be found, you’re the only person that’s going to find it, Cal. When you put your mind to something, there’s nothing that’ll stand in your way, nothing that can stop you from getting what you’re after. It’s what I… What’s so great about you. One of the things,” he adds, giving my hand a little squeeze.
I’m honestly in shock for a long moment, not sure how to respond. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Miles say so much all at once, and certainly not something emotional. He might rant about scuba gear or protocol, but… This is different.
This leaves me stunned.
I guess I’m quiet long enough that he’s worried, because he pulls his hand back, face unreadable.
“You know, you’re the only person that’s ever believed in me,” I say, voice softening as I’m made aware again just how close we are. The boat rocks under and around us, the sea choppier than usual. I swallow past the lump in my throat, sure I’m crazy. Sure the next step is going to ruin everything.
But will I ever get another shot?
“I always will,” Miles answers, his voice just as deep and whispery as mine.
A monster wave barrels into the boat, nearly tipping it on its side. I’m not braced for it and go lunging toward Miles, who manages to catch me before we collide.
But then we’re even closer, our faces inches apart, and I can’t wait anymore. I can’t keep holding my breath if I don’t want to suffocate.
Sometimes, when you’ve had an amazing experience, you can build it up into this incredible thing in your memory, so that the next time you try to do the same thing, it’s impossible for it to live up to expectations.
That’s not what happens with this kiss.
If anything, kissing him the second time is more explosive than the first. There’s a zap, like static shock the moment our lips touch, but it’s Miles’ reaction that makes it so much better. Last time, I caught him off-guard and ran off before he could really react. He’s not taking any chances of making that mistake this time. This time, his arms are around me in an instant, one hand slowly moving down my spine, the other up into my hair.
He’s gentle but firm when he holds me there, waiting until I invite him to deepen the kiss, my tongue skimming the seam between his lips until he’s groaning.
“Cal,” he breaks away, gasping, head shaking. “This is… You’re—”
“Going after something I’ve wanted for a long time,” I interrupt, leaning into him, pressing him back into the curve of the booth. This time I’m the one with my fingers in his hair, holding him captive in the kiss as his hands cautiously skim my sides.
It’s enough to make me shiver. To make my whole body yearn for more. My skin feels hot and flushed and the only balm to the burn is his touch. For every bit I lean in, he edges back, trying to be gentle if I had to guess. Before I know it, I’m straddling his lap, placing his hands on my hips, practically begging him to take this further.
“This is real?” he asks finally, his voice so soft I’m not sure I heard him right. His hand, calloused and rough, slips under my shirt, teasing up over my ribcage, a fingertip tracing each little indent on his journey upward.
It’s the lightest sensation, but I feel it everywhere. Nerves from my toes to my fingertips light up, jolts of shimmering pleasure waltzing through my bloodstream. His hand keeps moving up until he’s palming one breast. His thumb swipes over the taut peak of my nipple and I gasp, thighs clenching around his waist.
“It’s real,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss him again. Again and again. Never ending now that it’s started. Miles groans into the kiss, his voice vibrating through me, all the way to my core. He pinches my nipple and there’s an answering flood between my thighs, decades of dreaming and anticipation finally coming to fruition.
He yanks my shirt off, and a wave rolls under us at the same time, making me unsteady on his lap, forcing me to lean forward to brace myself against the wall.
It puts my nipple right in front of his mouth.
And his very obvious erection right in the cleft of my aching sex. The pressure alone has me squirming, desperate for more, and that’s before he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks hard enough to make me gasp.
“Miles,” I cry, fingers in his hair, holding him tight to my chest, everything he’s doing wi
th his lips and tongue is directly connected to the quivering and clenching between my legs, and no amount of grinding on his lap is soothing this fire burning in me. “Miles, I need you,” I pant, pulling him back, my nipple leaving his mouth with an audible pop.
“Jesus, Callie. I’ve wanted to hear that for so long, but this is—”
“No buts,” I insist, kissing him with all I’ve got, grinding on him until we’re both panting like horny teenagers in the back of the car — a fantasy I had a lot when I was a kid, but never got to act out. I don’t even want to admit how many times I canoodled with my pillows fantasizing about being with Miles. I’m not letting him talk us out of it now that we’ve gotten this far.
If he had a real objection, maybe, but I know what his objections are going to be. It’s a bad idea, it’s going to complicate things, yadda yadda.
News flash: shit’s already complicated.
“You’re really sure?” he asks, still looking skeptical.
I fold my arms over my chest, feeling weirdly exposed with his strange behavior.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re looking for an exit route, Halloran. I can go if—”
A growl stops me. Then firm hands on my hips, locking me in place.
“Don’t you dare.”
“So you wanna fuck me or not?” I ask, surprised with my own boldness. That’s not how I’d normally put it, but it seems appropriate for the situation.
Another groaning growl is the only answer I get before he’s holding my hips down, grinding up into me so there’s no doubt about his answer.
“What do you think?” he asks, head tilting to one side.
“I think,” I whisper, yanking his shirt off before kissing him, “we should lose the rest of these clothes.”
That seems to be the magic phrase, because the next thing I know, there’s clothes flying everywhere, both of us panting, fighting with fabric, desperate to get to each other. The swaying of the boat doesn’t help matters, and I go sprawling off his lap before I manage to get my pants off, but that just makes the job faster. I’m worried if we take too long one of us will start thinking, and thinking is a bad idea. Thinking leads to rational decisions and I’m not in the mood for rational anything right now.
The moment Miles has got his pants and boxers around his ankles, I’m straddling his lap again. This time, we’re skin to skin, heat trapped between us. My whole body is trembling with anticipation and I can’t believe I’m really about to do this. After all this time. After everything…
I groan as Miles’ lips latch onto the side of my neck, sucking softly, my insides clenching in response. My thighs quiver, and when I start to lift my body over his, my hard, sensitive nipples rake across his chest, making me gasp as lightning shoots down to my core.
“Fuck,” I whisper, already on the verge of melting into a puddle and he’s only barely touching my slick entrance with his cock. His hand moves between us, down over my front, until his fingers spread my lips and he teases my clit with the lightest, most feathery touches.
“Mi-Miles,” I gasp, voice breaking. I don’t know how I’m so close to the edge already, but I know if I don’t have him soon, I’m going to explode. His fingers on my clit are making it hard to think, making everything blurry and fuzzy with how good it feels, but somehow I manage to get my head on straight enough to lift my hips, to grab him with one hand and guide him into me, our bodies fitting together like they were made for each other.
Neither one of us makes a sound. Hell, I’m not sure either one of us breathes until he’s fully inside me, until my muscles engulf him entirely, quivering and trembling around his thick cock.
Yeah, I said it. Miles’ cock.
Not like I haven’t thought about it a billion times. And now it’s inside me. And holy shit does it feel amazing. He fits inside me so perfectly, stretching me in all the right ways, until it’s just flirting with the edge of pain, but never pushing over. We’re so close like this, like we’re one entity, sharing a heartbeat. I swear, I can feel his pulse moving through me, echoing in my veins, a steady drumbeat inside me driving me wilder, making me want to move.
“Cal,” he whispers, reverent, almost worshipful. I press my forehead to his and kiss him, lips merging in the ferocity of it.
“So fucking perfect,” he whispers between kisses, oblivious to the tight grip I’ve got in his hair.
I use my grip on him to leverage my body, to start the slow, sinfully torturous process of riding him. It’s excruciating in the best way. Part of me wants to blaze through it, to let go and be wild and have it all over and done with in under a minute.
The other part knows this might be the only chance I get, and wants to take it slow, to savor it.
The majority part of me though, is too preoccupied to think about anything. With Miles’ hands on my hips, there’s only so fast he’ll let me go. And if I try to go too slow, he’s got enough control to speed things up. As long as I’m moving, he’s content to let me. To sit back and enjoy. To touch my body, to kiss me, squeeze me.
But the moment I slow, trying to make it last, Miles tugs down on my hips, thrusting into me with a force that makes me gasp.
Eventually I stop fighting it. I give into the natural rhythm between us, the slow steady strokes that end with him grinding so deep inside me my eyes roll back in my head. I push down on his lap, and the boat rises up to meet me. Our eyes snap together, and we seem to come to a silent agreement.
That was fucking awesome.
I try again, trying to time the thrust with the wave, the choppy seas a sudden gift if only I can get it right. My timing is off, though, and as good as it feels to ride Miles like this — and believe me, it’s really, really good — it’s not quite the same.
The boat dips beneath us, and I know it’ll rise up again a moment after, but this time, Miles beats me to it. He grabs my hips tight enough to bruise, and follows the motion of the wave all the way up, thrusting into me as the boat rocks, white sparkles pricking at the edges of my vision.
“Yes,” I whisper-moan, clinging to him for dear life.
Miles can read the waves better than anyone, and soon it’s like he and the waves are working together to fuck me into an absolute stupor. There’s no thinking left, no words, no awareness of anything other than the volcano of ecstasy bubbling toward an eruption inside me.
The waves come hard and fast, seeming to build into the exact rhythm I need, the exact rhythm to push me over the edge into the weightless abyss of a mind-blowing climax.
“That’s it,” Miles encourages, kissing me between thrusts. “No more holding back. Let it out,” he says, thrusting with another wave, pushing me past the point of no return.
I cling to him, determined I’m never letting go. Not after this. I can feel him swelling up inside me, the roar that comes out of him possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, and then quiet.
Our heavy breaths, the waves outside. That’s it.
Miles is staring at me like he expects I’m going to realize now that this was a mistake and run out. Little late for that, huh?
To ease his worries, I lean in for a kiss before carefully pulling myself off his lap, conscious of the mess I’m going to make on the way to the bathroom.
I’m floating on cloud nine, even while I’m struggling to clean up in his matchbox-sized bathroom. I can’t believe that just happened — with Miles — and I’m not really sure what happens next.
That puts an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I take longer than I need to wash my hands and fix my hair and all that jazz. Just delaying the inevitable, I know, but it’s all I’ve got.
Miles is cleaning up when I come out, feeling way too exposed now that it’s all over and I’m still stark naked. The mugs from our tea have been washed and put away, and he’s currently collecting clothing in a neat pile. Probably wanting me to get dressed and get out of here.
I knew this likely wouldn’t be anything significant when I came runnin
g to him in the middle of the night, but it still stings to get kicked to the curb right after the deed is done.
I thought better of Miles.
“I’m sure it’ll be too big for you, but I got this for you to sleep in,” he says once he spots me. He heads into the bedroom and comes back with a t-shirt and pair of pajama pants.
I feel like anything I say is going to jeopardize this going as well as it is, so I take the pajamas without a word and change into them, the smell of the ocean enveloping me the moment I’ve got them on. Even clean, his clothes smell like him.
“I don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I know I just kind of barged in and—”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re looking for an exit route, Seaver,” he says, lips quirking up at the corner.
“Not a chance,” I murmur, leaning in for a kiss, getting that and a warm embrace to boot.
Miles flips off the main light, and in the darkness, I can barely make out his outline, the entirety of him just a shadowy shape. His arm is around me though, and when he says, “Let’s go to bed,” there’s nothing I’d rather hear.
18
Henri
I am as useless as an umbrella on a boat. There’s nothing I can do as I watch this bloodless weasel stash Callie’s prized belongings in the shabby rented room he’s got in another part of town. A part of town I’ve never been to. Possibly because it’s no place for a little girl and Nora’s been my main escort.
While the parts of Lupine Bay near the water are picturesque and quaint, further inland, it’s obvious this is a town that has seen better days. Closed storefronts line the streets, buildings in disarray, threatening to collapse at any moment.
I’d be far more intrigued by it all if I wasn’t still irritated that I’m here against my will. What is this scoundrel up to? What does he have planned for Callie’s belongings?