by Karina Halle
Emmett, meanwhile, stands by the boom with a beer in hand, grinning at me like a fool.
“Are you enjoying this?” I yell over the wind.
“Sexiest fucking sight I’ve ever seen,” he says to me. “Why don’t you show me your tit and make it even better.”
I balk. “Fuck you. Let’s see your dick then.”
He considers it, then nods. “Okay.” Starts to unzip his jeans.
“Stop,” I tell him. “I was kidding.”
“Secretly you weren’t,” he says, reaching into his boxer briefs.
I should look away, I really should but I’m also curious to see if he’s hard or not.
My brain wins at the last minute.
Just as he starts whipping it out, I throw up my hands to shield my eyes.
It all happens in slow motion.
I let go of the wheel.
The wheel starts to violently spin.
The boat begins to turn.
The boom begins to swing.
The boom comes across hard and strikes Emmett in the shoulder and sends him, his dick, and his beer, soaring through the air and right over the side of the boat.
Into the water.
Splash.
Man overboard.
“Emmett!” I scream, my hands grabbing onto the wheel and trying to control the boat as it keeps sailing forward. I look over at my shoulder to see him surfacing and starting to tread water, gasping for air.
“Hold on I’m coming!” I yell at him, trying to turn the boat around but now the boom is swinging the other way. “How do I reverse?!”
“You can’t reverse!” he yells from the waves. “You’re under sail!”
“How do I turn it off?” I yell back, frantically trying to hit all the buttons with one hand while steering the boat with the other.
“You can’t! You’re under fucking sail! Jesus Murphy, Alyssa, throw me the ring!”
Right. The ring. I have no choice but to let go of the wheel again until the boat is completely turned around. At least now, the sails are slack and flapping and the boat is slowing down.
I grab the ring off the back of the boat and quickly throw it into the water with all my might. My throw isn’t the best–neither is my aim–but at least it’s in the water and Emmett is swimming toward it.
Despite the danger and trauma of watching him possibly drown, there’s something incredibly sexy about the way he’s slicing through the water, doing a front crawl through the waves like he’s a fucking tugboat on speed.
Damn. No wonder the man used to be on the swim team.
It’s not long before he’s reached the ring and slides it over his head. He then grabs the rope and starts pulling himself in after the boat until he’s finally at the platform at the back.
“I am so, so sorry!” I cry out to him as I feebly try to help him on board. He’s so cold to touch and shivering, his lips looking a shade of blue.
“It’s okay,” he says, trying to catch his breath as he crawls onto the deck and slowly tries to get to his knees. “It’s okay. It was my fault.”
“No, I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have let go of the wheel,” I tell him, holding onto his wet shirt, afraid to let go in case I lose him again.
“No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have shown you my penis. I know the power it has over you.”
He’s smiling as he says this but it still doesn’t make me feel any better.
“Hold on,” I tell him. “I’ll get you some blankets, you would have gotten hypothermia if you were in there for one minute longer. Do you think you can steer it back or should I call the Coast Guard?”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, heading over to the wheel.
I swallow hard, hating the sight of him like this, regardless of how well his wet clothes are sticking to his muscles, and I quickly hurry downstairs to gather up as many blankets as I can. When I get up top, I dump them at my feet and then start pulling his shirt off his head. “Gotta get you out of these first,” I tell him. “That’s all.”
“Sure, sure,” he says with a grin, even though he’s unable to keep from shivering. “Pants next. But, mind you, the water is cold.”
His pants are unzipped anyway, so I pull them down until he’s naked and try not to stare at his cock, which truly does look quite different than what he was showing me prior to going overboard. Then again, the man is blessed in that department, so it doesn’t look any different from average.
“You don’t need to stare at it,” he says. “You’re making him shy.”
I smile at him. “Shy or not, I have to stop and appreciate. I learned my lesson before.”
“Never look away from my dick.”
“You got that right.”
Then I start wrapping the blankets all over him, covering up every wet inch so that by the time we’re heading back into the marina, he looks like he’s started some kind of blanket-wearing fashion trend. I’m sure Kanye West would try and sell it for a couple grand.
Somehow, we manage to dock the boat and he gives me instructions on how to properly tie it down, fancy knots and all.
Then I come back on board.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” I ask him, even though the color is coming back into his lips and his eyes look brighter.
He nods. “I just need to get warm and rest. Come on.” He puts his arm around me and ushers me downstairs into the cabin.
Cold and wet (him), high (me) and exhausted (both of us), we crawl into the berth with each other.
And promptly pass out.
Chapter 12
Alyssa
When I wake up it takes me a moment to realize where I am.
It’s almost dark, the blue glow of twilight comes through the glass hatch above me. I yawn, feeling as if I could sleep forever, and slowly turn my head to see Emmett beside me.
This is the first time I’ve seen him sleeping.
I feel like such a creeper.
Because even when he’s asleep, he’s a fucking babe. His boyish face is almost pretty with his tan skin and long eyelashes. His thick hair is slightly mussed up from the seawater and his stubble seems darker in the dim light.
I could literally stare at him forever.
That’s when I’m hit with a curious pang. This side of us, the one rife with intimacy, where we can sleep beside each other, is not part of the deal. This isn’t supposed to happen, it just has by silly accident, and now I’m soaking it up as much as I can.
This is the part that feels real.
And this is the part I really want.
I close my eyes and lie my head back on the pillow, letting out a dramatic sigh.
After a few beats, Emmett murmurs, “Everything okay?”
“You aren’t sleeping?”
“Not when I can feel your eyes on me,” he says. “Though I do like being admired.”
“You would.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
I give him a wary look, even though kissing him really is one of my favorite things. “Why?”
“Because I want you to.”
“But no one is here to take a picture of it.”
“But I want you to.”
I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure him out. “Is this what Emmett Hill wants?”
“I want more than just a kiss, but it will do.”
I close my eyes, lean over and leave a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.
I’m about to pull back and ask if that was enough but he reaches up and grabs me by the back of the neck, pulling me further down so my mouth is crushed against his, my breasts pressed against his chest. He moans into my mouth and I feel it all the way through me.
I’m wet in a second. Damn that he has this kind of power over me.
Before I even know what’s happening, my clothes are being pulled off and I’m pulling off the blankets he’s wrapped in and then the both of us are nak
ed on the berth, our bodies tangled in each other.
“Fuck,” he swears, holding my face in his hands and sucking my lower lip into his mouth like it’s candy. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Alyssa. I can’t survive the days anymore without feeling you like this.”
Jesus. When he says things like that, I don’t even stand a chance.
Real or fake?
But it doesn’t fucking matter. I want him, I want him so deep inside until I can’t breathe. I want to feel just how real he is.
“Lie back,” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes burning, lit from within. “Spread your legs. Touch yourself. Show me what you like. Where you want me to put my tongue, my lips. Where I need to take my time tasting you.”
I swallow hard. My cheeks are hot, tight, flaming red. There’s blushing and then there’s me.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to his dirty talk.
But I know one thing, I never want him to stop.
And so I do as he says. I scoot back onto the bed and, teasingly I might add, I open my legs.
I know we’ve had sex before but this is the first time he’s getting a good long look at me.
It feels extra-long because he’s taking his time, staring at me with simmering lust.
“I could feast on you for hours,” he murmurs, his eyes briefly meeting mine before settling between my legs again. “What a perfect, wet, pink pussy. You’re fucking stunning, baby.”
I swallow. My body is absolutely ravenous. I feel put on display but the way he’s looking at me only makes me want him more.
“You want me?” he asks gently, coming closer, prowling like a jungle cat.
I nod. “Fuck yes.”
“I want to lick every inch of your body,” he murmurs as he looms over top of me, his hard chest and tanned skin taking over my world. “Is that all right?” He licks along the rim of my ear, the sensation causing my skin to tingle.
“Yes,” I say and it sounds like I’m begging.
I am begging.
He continues to move his lips and tongue down the length of my body, caressing my collarbone, my breasts, sucking hard at my nipples until I’m dizzy and nearly mad with sensation.
God, this is so good, so good.
My stomach shivers under his tongue and my hips jerk under the tickle of his permanent stubble, the sweep of his full lips.
Finally, his head settles between my legs, already parted wide for him, hungry with want. Just as he did before as he gazed at me, he takes his time. He parts me open, slowly letting the rough pad of his fingertip brush over my sensitive flesh.
I’m already gasping, unable to keep quiet, to contain myself.
Yes, yes, yes. More.
Give me more.
Then his tongue snakes out, sliding along my clit and setting off more fireworks that flame the fire inside me. My breath shakes, unstable, my fingers clawing at the cushions. My hips lift up, wanting more of him.
He obliges, putting his mouth and lips into it. He’s watching me. Those icy-blue eyes are watching my every movement as he gives me more and more pleasure, his teeth grazing over my clit, his tongue plunging deep inside. His head between my legs is the world’s most beautiful sight.
This feels more real than anything else before.
I can’t hold his gaze any longer. I throw my head back and the world becomes hotter, tighter, combustible. The heat inside me grows and grows and grows, this impossible force, like the sun, that gathers every single nerve in my body, winding it over and over again.
The slide of his tongue sets me off.
“Emmett,” I cry out, and he murmurs into me, his groans vibrating deep inside and kicking me over the edge. I’m going over, falling over the edge, whistling through the wind, and my body quakes endlessly, until I’m quivering, boneless, spent.
I can barely catch my breath, my chest heaving and covered in sweat. He gets off of me and disappears briefly into the galley. When he comes back, he’s got a condom in his hands, sliding it on his cock with ease.
Then he’s back on the berth and he’s yanking my thighs, positioning himself. He pushes inside, still fucking hard through all of that. I’m so wet that he slides in easily, as huge and thick as he is.
What a man, to have that face, that body and that cock and still know exactly what to do with it.
And that he does.
He shoves himself into me with raw urgency that borders on savage.
I cry out, gripping the cushions again, filled to the brim with too many sensations to understand at once. I am wonderfully, stunningly overwhelmed.
Emmett is merciless and I am at his mercy. He grinds into me, his hips circling as he pistons himself in and out. He grunts hard with each thrust, this rough, animalistic noise that gets louder and louder the closer he gets to coming. It’s such a gorgeous, raw noise that causes the heat to build in my core, the beautiful pressure inside rising again.
Faster, harder, deeper. His pace is relentless. It slams me hard into the berth, enough that I’m afraid he might hit his head.
But he has no fear.
Only raw lust.
And it has never felt so good.
I can see him starting to lose control, dipping over the edge. His eyes burn into mine, and then he’s in deep, so deep that he’s shaking and muttering my name in low, guttural tones.
I can listen to these sounds forever. These sounds, all for me, all because of me.
Before he totally loses it, he places his fingers at my clit, rubbing, swirling, faster, faster. I’m so fucking slick, he’s sliding all over the place.
It sets me off–BAM–and once again I’m floating, flying, but this time I’m with him, and we’re riding it together, our bodies joined inside and out. For this moment, we are one, falling over the edge together.
When it’s over, Emmett collapses against me, his large, muscled body sweaty and sliding against mine. His breath is rough and steady in my ear, and his lips brush my neck briefly. I want to hold on to him, to feel his skin as it calms, but I can’t move. I think my arms are asleep.
Once he catches his breath, he places a soft kiss on my forehead, then pulls out. He takes the condom off, disposing of it in the trash in the head.
I need a moment to think. There are too many emotions swirling around inside. Too many of them that don’t have a place. Not with us, not with what we’re trying to do.
This is getting complicated.
This is getting dangerous.
Maybe for no one else but my heart.
In the waning tide of the orgasm, I’m starting to think clearly again.
“We can’t do that again,” I say to him quietly as I sit up, making a feeble attempt to cover my breasts. “I really mean it this time.”
He stares at me in surprise. “Why not?”
“Because,” I tell him. Suddenly the berth’s cushions seem infinitely interesting as I run my hands over them. “Because the more I have sex with you, the more things begin to blur. Things are already so confusing as it is. The last thing I want is to feel things for you.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I slowly look up and watch as he swallows, rubs his lips together like he doesn’t quite understand. “Why is it so wrong to feel things for me?”
There’s a quiet desperation in his voice that nearly catches me off-guard. I push on.
“Because I think, in time, you’ll probably just break my heart. None of this is real Emmett. The last thing I need is to forget that.”
He nods. Studies me. A flash of realization comes over his eyes, turning them cool. “You’re right. In the end, I’d probably just hurt you. That’s not what I want. That’s not what you deserve.”
Fucking hell. Even though those words pretty much came out of my mouth, it hurts something fierce to hear him say it, like a steel-toed boot to the gut. He can’t even pretend that he can be the man I need him to be.
He’s being honest with you, that’s what you like about him, I remind myself. Now tell your heart t
o go fuck itself and get back in the game.
Sheesh. My inner pep talks are getting pretty harsh.
“Can we have that table in the corner?” Jackie asks the hostess and then gives me a triumphant look when she starts to lead us that way.
It’s lunchtime at a restaurant a block away from work and it’s the first day Jackie has been back. The lucky bitch’s honeymoon stretched on for almost two weeks before her and Will had to return with matching tans and big smiles. She only works part-time at Mad Men so she can spare it, and Will, well Will only has to answer to Ted and we all know how Ted feels about it. I think he’s just glad they came back at all.
While I’ve talked to her every other day while she was in Mexico, I still haven’t been able to get down to the nitty gritty with her. Not that I particularly feel like it today. After the boating trip, my head has been all over the place and I’m really not sure what to feel anymore.
“I think Tiffany was a little upset that she wasn’t invited,” I tell Jackie after we order drinks, a Caesar for me and a virgin one for her.
“Hey,” she says to me, giving me a steady look. “Remember when you needed to talk to me about Will, back when we were secretly dating, and you said she couldn’t come? Just doing the same favor. We both love her to bits but you know she can’t keep her mouth shut, try as she might. If word gets out about the truth about you and Emmett, it could ruin everything. The press would be so quick to jump all over that.” She pauses. “Speaking of press, have you been keeping up with yourself?”
She takes out her phone and waves it at me. “I pretty much spent the whole honeymoon reading all the gossip sites. I think I learned more from them than I did from you. Alyssa, these people are fucking everywhere following you around. This must be driving you crazy.”
I shrug. “To be honest, I’m getting used to it.” I gesture around the restaurant. “And no one ever looks my way unless I’m with him. In a way, it’s the perfect blend of fame and anonymity. With Emmett I know people will take pictures and we’ll turn heads, I mean that’s why I’m here. And when he’s not here, well I’m just myself.”