He understood the question she was really asking and wanted nothing more than to reassure her. “It’s all for you.”
A light eyebrow raised. “You tied me up pretty deftly.”
He grinned. “I was a bosun for years,” he reminded her. “I know my knots inside and out.”
This had her smiling as well and he took a deep breath, energized. She loved him, too; he knew it. All he had to do was get her to realize it and then convince her to stay with him.
“Fair point,” she allowed, considering him as he lay naked and spread before her. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and then dropped the rope on the floor. “I’m not sure if I want you tied. I want you to obey me of your own free will.”
He exhaled through his nose and met her eyes. “I will always do that.”
She nodded in satisfaction before she spread his legs apart in one smooth motion, her eyes locked on the upward jut of his cock.
“You like this,” she said, half question and half observation.
“I pretty much like anything you do to me, Molly.”
“I thought being at your mercy would make me feel overwhelmed or taken advantage of, but I felt powerful instead. Is that how you feel?”
“Kind of,” he admitted. “I trust you enough to let you be in control so that kind of intimacy is a turn-on. I’ve never let a woman have that much power over me before.”
She leaned down to take his mouth, her soft tongue teasing his lips open as she invaded, the shallow thrust of her tongue sensuous and loving, so much so that it nearly killed him not to be able to touch her, to show her with not touching her how much she meant to him and how much he needed her to stay.
When they disconnected, he said the truth. “With or without the ropes, you have all the power here, Molly, because I’d do absolutely anything to make you happy. Literally anything. When you frown it’s like I’m being punched in the gut—that you’re leaving is like you’re ripping out my heart, Molly. I need you.”
She met his eyes, hers dark and stormy and full of flashing emotion—pain, love, confusion, but in the end settling on determination. “That’s exactly how I feel about you,” she whispered, her voice urgent. “That’s why you need to let me go so that I can do that for you.”
Christ, he wanted to argue so badly but like an idiot he’d walked right into her trap.
“I love you, Molly,” he told her, the words slipping out before he had a chance to think about the consequences. Maybe while he’d promised not to touch her wasn’t exactly the best time to reveal one’s love for the first time, but hell, maybe it was. He didn’t have defenses or pride when it came to her. He was just a bleeding vein and when she left he’d spill out empty onto the ground, deflated and useless. “I think I’ve loved you for so long, and if you’re really going to leave, then I need you to know.”
She audibly choked back a small sob and he furiously whispered to her, begging her to let him touch her finally and she nodded her head.
Her mouth met his in a messy, tear-streaked kiss, her hands holding the sides of his face as she straddled him, still fully clothed. He could smell her subtle citrus scent, feel the smooth cotton fabric of her shorts against his throbbing dick, the gentle fall of her hair against his shoulders. He was drowning in her, the soft skin of her palms against the stubble on his chin that she’d earlier coined as vacation chic. Their tongues met, his focused on hers as it moved through his mouth, teasing, getting more intense as she took over.
Eventually, she broke away, tracing a featherlight trail of kisses down his chest, and then his leg, her deft fingers kneading the balls of his feet, the rough calluses of his toes while she murmured things he couldn’t hear, but the tone was loving and warm and he couldn’t believe their time together was ending already. It wasn’t anywhere near the lifetime he’d aimed for.
“There are a lot of toys in that bag,” she finally said, her mouth very, very close to his cock and yet so goddamn far away. “I thought when we got around to me being in charge, I’d have a field day with them. You know, really put you at my mercy.”
He grunted when her finger grazed the root of him, teasing him. “I’ve been at your mercy since you stepped onto this boat.”
She looked up at him and when she spoke, he felt it on the stretched skin of his head. “I like that, Oliver. You’re always so good with words that for a long time I didn’t believe the things you said. I thought you were too glib to actually mean anything you said.”
His gaze shot to the ceiling as her hand came around his width. “Yeah, well, I like getting what I want and people generally don’t respond to it when I’m an asshole.”
“That’s what I mean,” Molly explained, her tongue ever so lightly dabbing at the liquid on top of his cock.
Jesus Christ, this was torture.
“I never knew if you were just trying to get what you wanted or if you were being honest.”
On some level, Oliver knew what she was getting at. That maybe she didn’t believe him when he said he loved her, or thought he was playing her. Hell, if he were her, he’d have his own doubts. “I’ve never had to work to be charming with you, Molly—I’ve always been able to be myself. That’s part of the reason you’re so important to me.”
He guessed she liked the answer because she took him into her mouth then, her hot, wet, velvety mouth, and his hips bucked. The pleasure was so great, her tongue stroking, her hand pressing the thick root of him that wouldn’t fit in her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked and he lost his goddamn mind when she looked up, her eyes meeting his as she did it, his glistening dick sliding in and out of her mouth. And then she went deeper and he thought he was dying, the engorged head hitting the pliant back of her throat as she swallowed.
“Christ, Molly,” he cursed, the guttural sound of pleasure ripping out of his throat.
She didn’t respond, just kept going, the sounds echoing in the room and driving him insane with need. His hips thrust against her, not even pulling back, and she took all of him, her lips meeting the skin of his abdomen as she stretched herself.
“I’m going to come,” he panted, his voice rough and raw.
At her single nod, she kept on, her tongue running around the length of his head before taking him in again, sucking until with a final lift of his hips, he came in a sharp explosion, his whole body strung tight as all his blood and attention centered on being in her luscious mouth. As she swallowed him, the tremors continued to rule his body. Continued still as she licked him clean, completely disregarding his pleas for reprieve.
But Molly was ruthless and that in itself turned him on and by the time she’d removed every drop of him he was already fully hard again.
A satisfied smile on her face, she stepped off the bed.
“If you fucking leave now, I will lose my shit, Molly,” he growled.
Instead of answering, she threw her shirt and bra off, followed by her shorts and the pale blue panties that always got him super revved up.
She climbed back on the bed, her breasts swaying with the movement. “Bring those close so I can suck them, Molly,” he directed. “I’ll make it so good, you’ll be so wet.”
“No bossing from you,” she admonished. “And I’m already wet.” So saying she dipped a finger into her folds and when she pulled it out it was wet with her own desire.
She leaned forward and he thought she was going to have mercy and let him have a taste, but at the last second she stuck her entire finger in her mouth, making him watch as she licked that clean, too.
“You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Molly Madix,” he told her, his hands fisting so he wouldn’t grab her, knuckles white as she straddled him.
“I know,” Molly said, her mouth red and a little puffy from going to work on him. A corner of it quirked as she met his eyes. “I’m really enjoying it.”
She straddled hi
s hips, poised directly above his cock, notching it into her crevice, the feel of all that welcoming heat sending him into the stratosphere. “Condoms are in the nightstand,” he told her, wondering just how he was going to make it through this.
A flash of determination flew across her face before she met his eyes. “I’m on the pill and I trust you,” she confided, her voice hushed. “Do you trust me?”
“Fuck, Molly,” he said, rising from the bed to take her into his arms even as she pushed him back. “You don’t just say that and then expect me to lie here and do nothing.”
She shook her head, moving away from him then. “Do you not want me to?”
Damn it, it had happened; his mind was truly gone. “I would kill for you to do it, Molly,” he groaned. “But I need to touch you. Please.”
That bottom lip disappeared between her teeth again and she returned to where he was notched at her entrance, only this time she sank down.
Everyone on the damned yacht probably heard his cry of pleasure as she fully took him in, their hips meeting. His gaze held hers because he was letting go of this small connection. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted.
Her eyes closed and she moved her hips just a little. “Me neither,” she told him.
Oliver’s heart thrilled because maybe this meant he had a chance that he could change her mind and make her stay.
He held on to this hope, probably foolishly, as she moved over him, every second, every thrust, every look a miracle. She took and took without him able to give back to her, but in the end, when they came together in a rush of heat and sweat and hoarse shouts of pleasure, he knew he’d given her everything he had.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MOLLY DIDN’T WANT to go back to Colorado. It didn’t matter that she was going to do it or that Oliver didn’t want her to; she knew she had to. This whole time they’d been lazing about on the yacht cruising the Caribbean and he’d known his own parents were going to make his life a living hell just because he’d made the choice to live his own life. It broke her heart and she wasn’t having it. Oliver deserved to be happy and if she had to go back to chilly Colorado in December, then that’s just what she would do.
She shivered thinking about how cold it would be compared to her sun-drenched days lounging on deck, jumping into the cool water when they got too hot, then warming up together again in bed. It was going to be a harsh reality to be thrust back into, but her bags were packed and ready for her to go. Heart heavy, she did a last inspection of her original room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. Then, so he would be safe on the next leg of his trip, she inspected the engine room one last time to make sure everything was good to go. She’d be taking the small speedboat ashore to Nassau and flying from the little airport there to Florida and then straight to Colorado.
A sigh on her lips, she swallowed as she headed up to the sky lounge, for her last meal with Oliver and the goodbye that she was dreading. She opened the glass French doors and entered the deck, her heart clenching in misery when she saw him there, sitting at the table gazing off into the ocean, the same pain she felt etched on his face.
She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she moved to her chair, his pissed-off mood emanating from him in waves. They’d argued again this morning when she’d finished up packing and it hadn’t ended how it had last night with her pouring out her heart to him in bed. Just the thought of what they’d done and then the way he’d held her against him all night, how they’d woken up in the wee hours of the morning and made love, clinging to each other in the dark silence, was almost enough to make her stay. Tears threatened because she knew she couldn’t. What was a couple of months apart for him to have the life he’d dreamed about?
She took the seat beside him, brushing her hand over his knee as she did so. She wanted to soak up every last bit of him she could before she left. He must have felt the same way, too, because he pulled her chair flush against his and put an arm around her back, pulling her into him.
“Are you really going to do this to us?” he asked Molly, his voice hushed.
She hated that she was hurting him, but her mind was made up. Daphne had been a tangible reminder of what she’d known from the beginning: Oliver’s life didn’t include her and the threats to what he was trying to build were legitimate. His sister had flown to the Bahamas all in the hopes of warning him of what was to come, which meant it was serious. All of Molly’s fears from the beginning about how she didn’t fit into his life were realized and while she believed him that he wanted to build a new life together with her, it would never happen if his parents were that threatening.
“You know I need to go.” His eyes were sad and defeated, echoing the desolation she felt.
Molly speared a piece of tomato in her shrimp salad even though she had absolutely no appetite.
“I know you think that,” he said. “I just wish you’d trust me. I have it handled, Molly. Your presence in my life won’t make my dream impossible. You staying with me makes it all more possible.”
Molly shook her head because she didn’t believe him. She ate the meal with her gaze down, just trying to make it through without crying. The minutes were counting down until she left and she didn’t want to spend them arguing, not when every breeze that blew across the deck brought back all her memories of being with Oliver; his laugh, his smile, his hungry gaze, but most of all the look on his face when he’d said he loved her, would haunt her. He’d already been resigned that she wouldn’t say it back but hopeful that she would. And she hadn’t—that would haunt her as well.
The moment he’d said it, she’d known. She loved him so much and knew 100 percent that while she was leaving to help him, she was also doing it because she was terrified of not being enough for his world. And Oliver, whose parents wanted to ruin his life through her, and his own self who was charm personified. She couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t be collateral damage. She couldn’t trust him with her heart yet. Not in these extraordinary circumstances that she could barely wrap her head around.
The last bite of her salad eaten, she set her fork down, the metallic clink a sad sound that meant it was time for her to go.
Oliver rose, holding his hand out to her. His grip was warm and firm as he led her downstairs. Standing together on the stern, mere feet away from the speedboat that would take her to shore, Oliver drew her into his arms. Her luggage was already loaded onto the smaller vessel with a waiting bosun at the ready to take her to shore.
“What can I do to make you stay?” he murmured against her lips, his forehead resting on hers.
Her arms tightened around him and she just shook her head, not able to get words out.
He dragged her more firmly into his arms, her body pressed up against his, the last feel of his hard lines and ridges against her. She wanted to soak it all in to remember, to take out on her imminent cold winter nights alone.
“You could stay here with me, help me,” he urged. “Work together with me on this. We’ll be brilliant at thwarting my parents and building the best boats the world has ever seen, Molly.”
It was a plea and Molly would have to be made of stone not to be affected by it. The tears came, unstoppable, because she loved the idea of being on a team with him. “You know I can’t.”
“Why?” he pressed, pulling back and searching her eyes. “I can handle my parents, Molly. I’ve known I was going to do this for years. I have it under control. You don’t need to leave. And if you don’t want to work for me, I’ll let you buy some of the company and then we’ll truly be partners.”
She just shook her head, any words she might say stuck behind the lump in her throat.
“I don’t know what else I can say, but know that I love you so much, Molly. These weeks have been the best of my life. There’s nothing else that even comes close and it’s all because you were here.”
“I can’t, Oliver!”
she cried, much louder than she’d intended, but how was she going to get him to understand? “I have to go.”
Those light eyes again, scanning her face as if memorizing it before landing on her gaze again, searching and searching. Then he was kissing her, his lips sweet and soft against her. “Trust me not to hurt you, Molly,” he whispered against her lips, a final plea that ravaged her. “I won’t ever lie or cheat or be anything but thankful that you’re mine. Please know it’s the truth.”
She kissed him again, hugging him tight to her before letting him go. “I have to go.” She repeated the words, choked and broken.
There were tears in his eyes, too, as he gave her hand one last squeeze before slowly releasing it, savoring the final contact between them.
“I love you, Molly,” he said again when she’d stepped onto the speedboat. “At least believe that.”
She nodded, then turned away as the tears threatened. The bosun in the boat gave her a commiserating smile as he started the engine and drove off toward the shore.
Finally, when she knew Oliver could no longer see her face, she let herself cry. It was embarrassing in front of another person but there was nothing to be done about it.
The worst part was that she knew Oliver was still standing there, alone on his boat, hurting just as badly as she was and she’d been the cause of it. She could go back and take the risk on love, but here she was running away, just like the scared person she’d been the first time things got serious with them. Even then, she hadn’t asked him to come with her to Colorado, assuming that he wouldn’t want to without really knowing. Not brave enough to take the chance and have her fears realized that it had been just another yacht romance for him.
They docked the boat at the marina and Molly helped the bosun take her luggage into the clubhouse, which was where the car was waiting to take her to the airport. But she had one more thing to do before she could go. She walked quickly to the small patch of beach near the docks to give the boat she’d had the best weeks of her life on a final look. And perhaps see a glimpse of Oliver on the yacht where she’d left him.
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