Chapter Six

Devin

Micki’s brown eyes grew huge and unblinking. No hint registered on her beautiful face what she was thinking. I know I jumped out there fast, but time wasn’t my friend right now. I could move to The Fourway Hotel for one night since Casa Blanca was only able to accommodate one extra night. Plus, I did have to fly to St. Thomas to meet with the charter fleet owners, but I could just as easily fly back here as I could to my house in the Bahamas.

But somewhere in the last twenty-four house I said, “Fuck it,” chucked common sense, and went with my gut. “Too soon?” I asked. My brain scrambled to find ways to salvage this if I’d totally screwed up.

She gave a quick shake of her head, glorious silky locks moving over her bare shoulders like waves on the sand. With a mental kick in the ass, I forced my gaze to stay on her face and not the sinfully smooth skin that damn near gave me a full erection every time my eyes drifted lower than her chin.

“Not…exactly.” She had that deer-in-the-headlight look and this would be where a shrewd man would say something like Don’t worry about it or Another time, then. But I wasn’t another man and not one with a lot of patience.

“I could be wrong, but I think you’d love it. I’ve got a little thirty-four-foot sloop—wait a minute. You still like to sail, right?” Memories flooded me of our one full summer together sailing, sunning, loving, and laughing. Watching her face as salt spray soaked her. The way she tilted her head to find the sun and closed her eyes, drinking in all the elements.

I’d fallen hard that summer. Every part of my body needed her to feel alive. To breathe. She was my heart, my soul, my love.

My everything. Until she’d decided I wasn’t hers.

“God, yes, I still love sailing. I just don’t ever get to anymore. Lack of opportunity and lack of time.”

She hadn’t said no yet. Encouraged, I decided to build on the fact that she hadn’t been sailing much. “Here’s a trip down memory lane. What happened when we put in at that marina in Riviera Beach one Saturday afternoon in particular?”

Her brows knit together as she thought. “The marina in Riviera Beach…” she murmured to herself, her eyes roaming the room as she thought.

“Remember?” I prompted. “We had to wait forever for a big-ass ketch taking its sweet time clearing the channel and the dog that fell overboard and we thought they were all going in after it?”

Her gaze snapped back to mine, her eyes flashing brightly. “We’d eaten everything we had and wanted more food. And I needed to go to the bathroom and it was down a long, spooky hallway. Oh my God!” She chuckled. “I remember sitting on the toilet, reading the notes people had written on the walls. Didn’t I do one in a German accent? A horrible German accent and some random guy behind you heard me and corrected my pronunciation?” She laughed so hard, tears glittered in her eyes. “And you turned around and he was like this six foot ten behemoth and you were all like, yes, sir.”

I sure as hell did remember. “I was pretty keen on not getting my ass kicked so, yeah. I played it real respectful.”

Her hands went to her flushed cheeks. “Oh, good God,” she groaned. “I can’t believe I did that.” She chewed bit her lower lip and gave me an embarrassed smile. “Alcohol may or may not have been involved, as I recall. And you,” she wagged her finger at me. “You taunted me about having to go to a real bathroom for the rest of the day. How it was such a girl thing.”

That was true. I’d had way too much fun at her expense that day, but Micki Dawson gave as good as she got. The girl had fire…and she’d branded me. “But I told you there was a big body of water right over the side. All you had to do was let me know, I’d slack the sheets and you could go over the side. Hell, I told you I wouldn’t even look.” Just in case it wouldn’t serve me well, I bit back the laughter that threatened to erupt.

“You were a Neanderthal.” She pretended to pout, but her eyes danced with laughter and her lips—hard as she tried to keep them pressed together and stern, the corners refused and curved up.

“If it sways you in any way, shape, or form—there’s a toilet onboard this boat and it even has a door,” I added for good measure.

“Oh my God,” she coughed over a sip of wine. “Considering what you do for a living, I would hope so!”

Our laughter ebbed naturally and we sat quietly for a moment, our eyes on each other. Each deep within our thoughts. But she still hadn’t said no. “Michaela Dawson, tell me something. When was the last time you did something for yourself on the spur of the moment?”

Her brows twitched together. “Hmm. On the spur of the moment.” She leaned on one elbow and drummed the table with her other hand. “It’s been…it’s been—”

“Ding, ding.” I tapped the side of my glass with my finger. “If it takes you that long to remember, it’s been too long.”

She eyed me speculatively. “It’s been awhile…yes, I guess,” she admitted.

A growing thread of hope wound its way around my heart. My gut told me I’d said enough. Let her have room to think about it and—if there was a God—have her want it as badly as I did.

Her eyes darted from mine to out the window as she chewed on her lower lip. “Can we sail while I’m there?” she asked, almost shyly.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to haul her clear across the table and kiss her senseless in front of every fucking person in the restaurant. “Absolutely. As much as you’d like and the weather allows.”

“I’ll—think about it. Maybe we could talk about it tomorrow?”

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. Actually, that wasn’t true. Our dinners couldn’t come soon enough because I had every intention of having Micki in my arms before the night was over.

Believing I’d given her enough to think about, it seemed wise to keep dinner conversation to the more neutral side. Our dinner plates arrived with tendrils of intoxicating fragrances of expertly prepared gastronomic delights teasing our senses.

“If this tastes as good as it looks, I’m in heaven,” I said, lifting my glass in one final, and less emotional, toast. “Here’s to the lobster we may catch, the fish we may fry, and the wind slapping in the sails.” I studied her face. “If you come, of course.”

She clinked her glass to mine with eyes that glittered with thoughts I could only guess at. “That’s a hard offer to walk away from.”

I took a long swallow of martini to let the smooth taste of vodka slow me down from pressing too much, too fast. “Tell me how your folks are doing.”

The remainder of the conversation as we ate revolved around catching up on family and the changes in the small town we used to live in. Easy, relaxed, comfortable. Yet a fire burned just beneath the surface that kept my groin tight and my body aching to feel hers underneath me.

Our meals finished, desserts refused, I paid the bill and looked out over the Gulf. “I propose we walk down the beach for a bit. That sunset won’t last too much longer…unless you need to get home. I know you’re working tomorrow, but I also know you didn’t get a full night’s sleep.” I waited tensely because this was the part of the night I’d been waiting for. A chance to be alone with her in this gilded setting.

She turned her face to look out the window toward the brewing sunset, the warm colors casting another-worldly glow on her face through the tinted glass before she smiled back at me. “I’d love to.”

Not for the first time I wondered what my life would’ve been like if I’d only fought for her. Tried to hold on tighter. Battled for a second chance. You didn’t know how to fight for her, you dickhead.

I was going to now.

We set off down the path that took us straight to the sand. Bending down, she slipped off her sandals, hooking her finger through the straps. I was rewarded with an unobstructed view of her delectable backside as she bent over. I’d never been envious of fabric before but the way it caressed and outlined her curves…my cock throbbed to feel that part of her pressed against me.

The sun had just kissed the horizon and it wouldn’t be many minutes before it slipped entirely from sight, leaving the rich purple and orange brushes of light behind until night came fully. I reached for her hand and she let me take it as we walked without speaking toward the water’s edge. We stopped when the gentle waves almost kissed our feet. We stood still and watched as the glowing fireball made its final descent beyond the horizon and twilight filled the sky in its place. The gentle, rhythmic wash of waves filled the air as the steady breeze off the Gulf passed over our bodies. We stood together, without a word and it felt…right. Like anything was possible. And, indeed, I was beginning to believe that was so.

“This never gets old,” I murmured.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Not something you see often in London?”

I chuckled. “No, no, I sure don’t.”

We continued to watch until the last amber fingers faded into deep purple. “So beautiful,” she sighed. “I need to remember to take the time to watch this now and then. I get too busy and forget these are the parts that make life richer, don’t you think?”

What I thought was how much time I’d missed not having her in my life. How many sunsets we could’ve shared. Begun a family. “Yes, I think that, too.” I reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s walk off some dinner.” We made our way down the beach in comfortable silence for a bit, our feet sinking into the soft, cool sand. A few couples walked a good distance from us, but we had this part of the beach relatively to ourselves. Every step made me hungrier to taste her lips, and I didn’t know how much longer I could last without pulling her into my arms.

The answer was…not long. I pulled up short; she took another step ahead before stopping and turning to look up at me.

“Micki.” I reached for her other hand bringing her up close to my body. She smelled warm and spicy, like jasmine, lavender, and vanilla. As intoxicating as any liquor. “If you don’t want to be kissed, pull away now.” I held my breath…waiting for the movement and the rejection I half expected to get.

She didn’t move. Still, I held off. “There’s so much I want to talk about. So much I want to learn, and I know this is fast, maybe too fast for—”

She reached up, cupped her hands behind my head, hauled my face down, and kissed me. I froze for a nanosecond before pulling her tightly against me and capturing her head with one hand, pressing the other in the small of her back. Tilting her to the angle I wanted, I deepened the kiss, instantly on fire for more.

Her soft moan vibrated against my mouth and I pulled away slightly. “Did you just kiss me to shut me up?”

“I’m not sure,” she said softly, her eyes leveled on my mouth. “If I did, what would two kisses mean?”

“I’d be closer to heaven.”

She lifted her eyes to meet mine, her smile both soft and erotic at the same time, which only fed the boner that was currently pressed against her belly.

I was lost. “Micki, it couldn’t be more obvious how badly I want you, but it’s going to go like this, sweetheart. I don’t want to fuck this up. Your call, your pace.” I pressed my forehead to hers and squeezed my eyes shut. It took every ounce of discipline I had to pull away, but I had to. We were on a public beach on a small island where she lived and worked.

As painful as it was not to kiss her again and again, I released her and took a step back. Our hands found each other’s. This had to be right, damn it. It had to come from her, and it had to be in the right place at the right time.

“I’ll come.”

At first I didn’t think I heard her correctly. “You’ll what?”

She lifted her chin. “I said I’ll come, if the invitation is still open.”

I went still, afraid if I took a breath or spoke, she’d laugh and tell me she was joking. My heart couldn’t take that. “Okay,” I exhaled finally.

She tilted her head to one side and her hair slipped off her shoulder, leaving that silky expanse of skin bare. I drank in every inch, my blood heating as it coursed through my body.

“Okay, so the bad news is I have to leave tomorrow to get to St. Thomas and I’ll be there for two days. Possibly three, but I’m sure as hell going to try to keep it to two. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. You just need to tell me what you want to do and I’ll arrange a flight for you.”

She frowned, but with a bemused smile. “I think I can arrange a flight—”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. I have a friend who has a plane—”

“That’s lovely, but I can—”

I pressed a finger to her lips. “But,” I murmured. “I can have my friend, Linc, get you whenever you want. It’s a perfectly beautiful plane, and he’ll take very good care of you and—unh unh uh.” I wagged my finger over her lips when she would’ve interrupted me. “You’re precious cargo. I insist.”

She gave me a wide-eyed look, then her lips moved under my finger. “I was just going to say, I have to work on my schedule first.”

I dropped my hand and straightened, in agony over the feel of her lush lips moving against my finger. “I know. Which means you’ve got to get going.” I turned, pulling her next to me to walk back the way we’d come.

“I do?” she asked.

“Yes. You have things to do, people to call, appointments to arrange, a cat sitter to get—”

“Wait,” she pulled to a stop. “How’d you know I have a cat?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t before this morning. You know that ornate mahogany desk taking over almost the entire corner of the workroom in your studio? The one with framed photos of a black and white cat? That’s not just any old cat, now, is it?”

She looked unconvinced and eyed me with skepticism. “There are two other desks back there. How’d you decide that one was mine?”

“Simple. It suited you.”

She opened her mouth, then scoffed. “Alright, Sherlock. What tipped you off?”

I chuckled deeply, enjoying her consternation. “It looked polished. Rich. Intricate. Something to be treasured for a lifetime.”

She shook her head but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“And a little anally neat,” I added to tease. Something still bothered her in what I’d said, but I had no fucking idea what it was.

She looked up out of the corner of her eye. “Anally neat?”

“Oh, yeah,” I added with feeling. “A totally hot look, too. Anally neat is the new sexy.”

Laughing, she replied, “Good to know, good to know. And to think I spent thirty minutes picking out this dress tonight.” She lifted the long length of fabric for emphasis.

Restraint was overrated. I wrapped my arms around her. Hauling her against me, I lowered my head. “Nothing could possibly be sexier than this dress and the way you look in it. Except if you were out of it.” My mouth found hers and I let caution go to hell because the need for more had become unleashed. It was dark enough that we wouldn’t be arrested for public lewdness, thank God. The kiss turned into a dance of carnal lust, each of us tasting…taking. I hissed in a breath when her fingers dug into my shoulders, pulling and pushing at the same time.

“Devin, if you do that again, I don’t think I’ll be able to show my face in this town because I’m this close to taking your clothes off with my teeth.”

Hearing that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her was like a sucker punch to the gut. I had a tough time drawing in a breath and struggled with tempting her to do just that. The blood pounding in my ears drowned out the soft sounds of the water. With painful, excruciating control, I held back and did, what I thought was, the right thing. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your car.” Never had being a gentleman been so painful.

Ever.

There was a cold, cold shower in my future tonight.

When we got back to where the beach ended and the path began, she bent over to brush the sand from her feet and slip her sandals back on. The top of her dress gapped and—Christ help me—I got an eyeful of what I’d ached to touch and taste all night. Neither too small nor too big—and all natural. The soft, succulent curves of her breasts were almost my undoing. Christ, I earned a medal tonight. Restraint sucked. Patience sucked.

I was in hell and I had to get her back to her car before this night ended with us in my bed.

The ambient light from the resort highlighted and shadowed her face as we stood next to her car, those luscious rosy lips still plump from kissing, demanding tasting again. Afraid to do more, I pressed my forehead against hers, wrapping my arms around her, capturing her hands between us.

“You’d better go before I forget we’re standing in a very public parking lot.” Her fingers splayed against my chest, flexing gently. I prayed I’d feel them sooner rather than later without the cotton barrier of my shirt.

Footsteps crunched on gravel from somewhere behind me and she tensed.

“You should go,” I whispered, not wanting to let go but knowing it was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. The fucking hardest thing to do.

She nodded, her eyes dark and round, looked up at me. “Still want to see my little renovated cottage? I have coffee, but not much else.”

Concentration on anything else but her nearness was difficult. “What time?”

“I usually go for an early morning run, sooo…eight thirty? I’ll text you my address—”

“Already know it,” I confessed, half sheepishly.

One perfectly shaped eyebrow shot up. “You already know it?” she repeated.

I gave her a have-you-forgotten look. “Google, remember? There’s a wealth of information out there, but it’s a little scary that people can find out so much. Now,” I held out my hand, “your keys?”

She dug in her purse and handed them to me. Clicking the lock, I opened the door for her, but not before sealing my mouth on hers for one last taste. She lifted her hand and pressed it against the center of my chest where my heart pounded against my ribs.

“Eight thirty,” I promised against her mouth.