Chapter Six
Sam
Waking up with Elliott at my back, his cock hard and seeking between my legs, was my new favorite start to the day. It’d been a week since the first time we’d slept together. Seven days of secret touches, of naughty texts and barely concealed heated looks across the quad. Seven days of the sweetest pleasure and the most agonizing torture. Having him, but not being able to shout it to the world was agony. We couldn’t go out to dinner like normal couples. Couldn’t meet in the middle of the day for lunch or coffee. Couldn’t even call each other in public, too worried about the wrong person overhearing.
But we’d made do. After that first night, we’d agreed to keep our relationship locked up tight, at least for a few months. No one could see us together, which meant no public interaction. And no one could know about us, which meant I still hadn’t told Lucy.
To make up for everything we were missing out on in public, we practically devoured each other whenever we were alone. Most of the time, that meant me sneaking into and out of his apartment, spending our nights up wrapped in each other. And fucking like we were the last two people on earth.
“Want you so bad,” he mumbled against my shoulder.
I hummed, tilting my head so he could press kisses against my neck, his teeth sinking into my skin. “Maybe we have ti—” Before I could get the words out, the alarm on my phone blared, as if mocking us.
He groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder, his breaths hot against my bare back. I had a shift at Bundt and Grind this morning—in half an hour, actually—and Elliott had a few things to do on campus. No sleepy Saturday morning sex for us.
After shutting off my alarm, I reached back and patted his hip, intent on us both getting out of bed. But Elliott had other ideas, his hands roaming my body. Brushing against my breasts, trailing over my stomach, cupping my pussy. Instinctively, I rocked into his hold, closing my eyes and letting myself fall into the pleasure he pulled from my body. As his fingers worked expertly against my clit, I was more than halfway to an orgasm when his phone blared our backup alarm.
With a muttered curse, he reached and shut it off. He was only gone a moment, then he was right back to work. As much as I wanted to let him get me worked up all over again, we didn’t have time. I pushed his hand aside and slid out of the bed before he could drag me under with his magic fingers.
“Later.” I rested my hands on the mattress and leaned toward him to drop a kiss on his lips.
“That better be a promise, princess.”
Tossing a grin over my shoulder, I headed into the bathroom, pulling my hair on top of my head into a messy bun. I brushed my teeth with a toothbrush that had magically appeared after our first night together. Toothbrush, floral body wash, conditioner for my hair since he didn’t use any—he’d even bought three different kinds of tampons to keep under his sink, unsure which kind I preferred. The day I’d found everything, I’d just stared, stupid grin stretching my mouth. Never more grateful for being locked in the bathroom than I had been then as I’d swooned my face off all because my secret boyfriend was so considerate.
Considerate and making me fall for him a little more every day.
By the time I was dressed and ready to go, Elliott was in the kitchen, a cup of coffee brewing in his single-cup machine as he stood watch over the toaster, his fingers brushing against my hip as I walked by.
It may have only been a week, but we already had a routine. As soon as the whir of the coffee machine shut off, I picked up the cup, readying it for Elliott the way I made his coffee at Bundt and Grind. Just as I dropped the pinch of cinnamon into it, he pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, reaching around me to slide a plate with two pieces of toast—slathered with butter and jam, just how I liked it—in front of me before he grabbed the coffee I held out to him.
“Thank you, baby.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled as I bit into my toast, and then he was off to finish getting ready. Everything about our routine was so...domesticated. It was probably dumb, this warmth that crept over me as I ate something he made for me, but there was no denying it was there. No denying the...happiness that had settled over me in the past week we’d spent together.
After we’d gotten those first few bumps out of the way, things between us had fallen into place almost too easily. Ours wasn’t a new relationship. It didn’t feel like we’d been together for mere days, but rather a month...six months...a year. We’d fallen into something between us so effortlessly, it was shocking.
Once I’d polished off my breakfast and loaded my dish in the dishwasher, I headed into Elliott’s room to say goodbye before I had to leave for work. He stood on the other side of his bed as he stared out the window, phone to his ear.
I crept up behind him, sliding my hands around his bare torso and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
“I’m not sure that will work,” he said, his body tense under my hands. “I appreciate the offer, Charles, but—”
As soon as my father’s name left his lips, I jolted, my hands freezing in their path toward the waistband of Elliott’s pants. I stepped around him, sliding my body between his and the window, trying to get a read on his expression. His eyes were closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, it is a Saturday, however—”
With a pained sigh, he finally opened his eyes and looked at me. I mouthed what to him, which only got me a short shake of his head in response. Then he pressed his lips together, as if he were holding in a rebuttal, and reached out to stroke my cheek.
“Fine, I’ll see you then.” He hung up, tossing the phone behind him on the bed. Hands on hips, he dropped his head.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“Have you checked your phone this morning?”
“No, why?”
But rather than responding, he reached over, plucked my phone off his nightstand, and held it out to me. I lifted my eyebrows, but took the phone. Two missed calls and a single text—all from my dad.
Since I know you’ve got the afternoon off, I’m going to call Dean Goodridge and invite him on the boat for a sail. Give you two a chance to talk, maybe pick up where you left off at the Lights Festival.
“He doesn’t realize what he’s suggesting,” Elliott said.
With a huff of laughter, I looked up into Elliott’s face. It was easy—okay, not easy, but doable—to refrain from going out in public as a couple. But being forced into public together and not being able to touch? That was going to be hell. “What do we do now?”
He wrapped an arm around me, slipping his hand down to cup my ass and tugging me up against him. “Now we pretend I don’t want to do as he suggested and fuck you on your parents’ boat.” Pressing a kiss to my lips, then my jaw, then my neck, he said, “Think you can do that?”
Not even a little bit.
* * *
It had been the longest, most uncomfortable morning of my life. Rather than doing the smart thing and spending the time cooling off in preparation for the show we had to put on for my parents, we’d sexted. Or at least he had.
Is my pretty pussy missing me today? I barely had time to pet her.
Next time, I should just slide my cock inside you the second I wake up. You’re always so wet and ready in the morning. Pin you down to the mattress and make you scream your way awake. Much better than the alarm on your phone.
I’m going to make it up to you tonight. Maybe fuck you against the window again. You definitely liked that last time. Or we could reenact the night of the Lights Festival. I love it when you come on my tongue.
And those had all been before 10:00 a.m. Any time I’d checked my phone, I’d done so with equal parts arousal, excitement, and trepidation. I didn’t know if he was a glutton for punishment or what, but I’d spent my morning shift perpetually red-faced, my nipples hard enough to cut glass, and my panties uncomfortably damp.
And even now, seated on the boat, the slight wind of the picture-perfect May day blowing across my face, I was still flushed. My mom and dad were engrossed in conversation with Elliott, though about what, I had no idea. I was too busy staring at the way his shirt fit him so perfectly, the sleeves showcasing the bulge of his biceps, the front draping mesmerizingly against what I knew was a rock-hard chest with just a smattering of dark hair. I sat and I stared and I rehashed every dirty text he’d sent me, completely oblivious to anything but how he looked when he laughed at something my parents said.
And then he turned to me, those bright blue eyes of his locking with mine, and for a minute it was just the two of us. His desire was written all over his face. It was in the hungry scan of his eyes over my chest, the slight tick of his jaw, the sweep of his tongue across his lower lip. I was two-point-seven seconds from coming, and the man hadn’t even touched me yet.
“Samantha?” my dad asked, pulling me out of my Elliott-induced trance. “Why don’t you show Dean Goodridge around below deck while the wind is calm?”
It was a bad idea to be in close quarters with Elliott. Alone. And from the look on his face, he had the same thought. But without an excuse to keep me from doing so, I did as my father suggested and led Elliott toward the stern and down the ladder.
Feeling him so close behind me caused the hairs on my arms to stand on end, my nipples so hard they actually hurt. I couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in my life. And he hadn’t touched me in six hours.
As soon as he stepped into the galley, he tugged me against him, his mouth crashing down on mine. Moaning against his lips, I met his tongue stroke for stroke and wrapped my arms around him, taking the tiny bit of relief I got from finally being able to touch him. He stumbled us toward the stateroom, no doubt trying to get us as far away as possible from the ladder that led to the main deck.
“How much time do we have?” he asked against my lips, his hands already sneaking under my shirt to cup my breasts.
“Not long. Five minutes.” I bit my lip to stifle a moan as he tweaked a nipple through my bra, my hips rolling against his as I sought relief.
“Then we better hurry.” His fingers deftly undid the button on my shorts before slipping inside, going straight to my pussy. He hissed out a ragged breath, his eyes connecting with mine as his fingers slid against me. “Jesus, you’re wet.”
I nodded and clung to him, eyes going fuzzy as he stroked my clit. The day had been the longest foreplay session I’d ever been part of, so I wouldn’t need more than thirty seconds of focused attention to come. I was already close, and he’d only just started touching me. It should’ve surprised me, how easily he elicited these reactions in me, but I no longer was. Our connection wasn’t something I questioned anymore. It simply was.
Just as I was climbing to fall over the edge, Elliott removed his fingers, then tugged my shorts down and off, along with my panties. Before I could do anything but gasp out a shocked “What—” he had me pinned to the wall, his shorts pulled down just far enough to free his cock. And then he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushed inside me with a low groan.
“Elliott,” I moaned, my head thumping quietly on the wall. I’d intended his name to come out as an admonishment, but there was no denying the breathless quality of my voice. Or the way I swiveled my hips as he thrust into me. “My parents—”
“I know,” he said, his forehead pressed against my neck. “I know. I couldn’t wait another minute to have you. My cock’s been hard all day because I can’t get you off my mind, and you looked so fucking stunning up there in the sun. I kept thinking about your freckles and...shit. I just wanted to make you come.”
The sounds of our joining filled the stateroom, Elliott’s hips slapping fast and frantic against the inside of my thighs. He gripped my ass in his hands, pulling me forward as he thrust deep. And even though my parents were nearly right above us, could have come down at any moment and stumbled upon the dean of students fucking their daughter against a wall on their boat, I didn’t care.
More than that, it heightened the buildup low in my belly. As Elliott worked his thick cock in and out of me in the perfect rhythm, at the perfect angle, it only served to thrust me that much faster toward my orgasm. The threat of being caught was my ultimate undoing, the muffled voice of my dad above deck reaching my ears just before I clamped down on Elliott’s cock.
“There it is.” Elliott groaned. “Fuck, so tight and hot. Never enough. I’ll never get enough of your pussy, princess.”
I moaned low through my release as he gave a short succession of shallow, fast thrusts before pushing deep, his cock pulsing inside me as he came.
“Fuck, Sam.” He exhaled sharply, catching his breath before he pressed a kiss to my neck. Then he took my mouth in a slow, sweet kiss, so contradictory to the way he’d just fucked me, I couldn’t help but smile against him. My grin only grew when his lips curved to match mine.
“That was really stupid,” I whispered against his mouth.
He nodded. “I know.” Pressing two quick kisses to my lips, he pulled out and set me on my feet before reaching for my shorts and panties. “Why don’t you get cleaned up in the bathroom and we can go back up.”
“Head.”
“What?”
“It’s not a bathroom. It’s a head,” I said, stopping just inside it. “If we go back up and you don’t even know the proper names, my dad will know I didn’t do my duty.”
“How about I tell him we didn’t discuss head nearly enough?” He shot me a salacious grin. “But that we plan on making up for it this evening.”
Laughing under my breath, I hurried into the head, very aware of how long we’d been gone, and cleaned up before righting my clothes. As soon as I stepped out, I grabbed Elliott’s hand and pointed to the different areas, calling them by their proper sailing terms while dragging him toward the ladder. As I climbed in front of him, he rested his hands on my hips, then leaned in and gave my ass a sharp nip, barely moving away by the time we were in view.
“Everything okay down there?” my dad asked, his eyes flitting back and forth between us, his gaze shrewd and assessing.
And even though I knew with near-certainty my dad couldn’t possibly know what his little girl had just gotten up to on the family boat, my stomach still knotted, anxiety making my palms sweat.
Fortunately, Elliott was quicker than I was, his reply coming as easy as the grin he shot my dad. “Sam must’ve told me the names for all the rooms down there five times, and I still can’t get them right. I don’t know the stateroom from the galley. Not much of a sailor, I’m afraid.”
My dad laughed, clapping a hand on Elliott’s shoulder. “We’ll get you up to speed soon enough. For today, let’s just enjoy the perfect conditions.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, settling against the seat across from Elliott. Jesus, what had we been thinking, tempting fate by not keeping our hands to ourselves? We may not have been caught this time, but this little outing only proved that we couldn’t be trusted in public. Not when there was so much on the line. Not when we both had so much to lose.