SAWYER

The marina is dark except for a few lights shining on the dock and a handful of boats that are occupied and lit by their inhabitants. The gate is locked, as always, but it doesn’t keep me from gripping the cold steel and squinting to see if I can catch movement on the Nauti Nancy. A soft light in the back is on, but other than that the windows are dark. I dart my eyes to Jenkins’s sailboat and it is completely black with no sign of life. I pray that’s not an indication of its owner, and hope that he’s just in the hospital recovering.

The not knowing his condition is what’s making me crazy. How could Aden not let me know how he’s doing? I was the one who found him passed out for fuck’s sakes. The madder I get, the tighter my grip is on the gate. I deserve to know what’s going on! And fuck him for thinking I’d just walk away when he’s done with me.

I shove off from my snooping and plop on a bench that’s shrouded in shadows to wait for someone to open the gate. I’ll storm in and demand answers if that’s what I have to do.

My muscles quake, and even though it’s chillier tonight than the last few nights, I don’t think it’s from the cold. Jenkins could be dead. His last hour on this earth could’ve been spent in my arms and Aden didn’t even give me the courtesy of a phone call!

Time passes and as the temperature drops the heat of my anger increases. I cross my arms over my chest, my foot tapping frantically against the concrete. Every time someone passes matching Aden’s description I glare until my temples throb, sending even the manliest men to the far side of the sidewalk. Couples hand in hand, people walking their dogs, the occasional jogger, all of them pass and still no Aden.

It’s after one in the morning, my butt is numb from sitting, and I’m contemplating the possibility that he may not show up tonight. Where else could he be? I shove away thoughts of him with another woman when the door to a nearby bar swings open. Music pours out along with a man and a woman. She’s talking fast but I’m too far away to hear exactly what she’s saying. A drunken lover’s quarrel? Hidden in the dark I watch as she pleads with the man for something and when he finally gives in she ducks under his arm and they head toward me.

As they get closer there’s something familiar about the man, the way he holds his shoulders and his gait that stiffens my spine.

Then I hear him mumbling. It’s deep and dark, a voice I’ve come to know all too well.

“I told you I’m fine, Syd.” He releases the girl and she seems disappointed. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Colt, wait.”

He stills and drops his chin.

“If you need to talk—”

“No.” He shakes his head and I’m immobile watching this all unfold before me and hoping to God I don’t end up seeing something I can’t unsee. “I already told you—”

“I know. Just . . . I’m here if you need me.” The woman, Syd, turns and disappears back into the bar.

He nods and passes right by me as he stumbles up to the gate.

But seeing him brings all my nerves to life.

Feelings explode behind my ribs—anger, hurt, sympathy, as well as something deeper that I wish I understood.

He punches in a code and his big body sways like his boat on the open sea. I stand silently, holding my breath and ready to catch the gate once he passes through it.

He freezes.

His shoulders square.

Spine straight.

It’s as if every bit of booze he’d ingested has dissolved instantly. He doesn’t move a muscle and neither do I. “I know you’re there.”

My eyes dart around us, trying to figure out whether or not he’s talking to me or some drunken figment of his imagination.

“I can smell you.”

I warm as his words roll over my skin like a sweet seduction. God, what is wrong with me?

He drops his chin to his chest. “Why are you here, Celia?” He still doesn’t turn to look at me, so I approach slowly. “Stop!”

My feet grind to a halt. “Aden—”

“Leave. I don’t want you here.”

His words slice through my chest. What he’s saying might be true, but I can’t overcome the urge to comfort him. I move with my hand out to soothe him with a touch.

He spins on me faster than I’d think possible for someone in his state. “Never come at me from behind, understand?! Especially when I’m drunk.” He’s growling he’s so angry.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

With his face under the light it looks like he hasn’t shaved or showered since yesterday. His eyes are masked under the shadow of his strong brow so I can’t tell how he feels at seeing me. With a slight tilt of his head I feel his eyes run the length of my body and I wrap my arms around my waist. “How long have you been out here?”

“Not long.” Lie.

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Celia.” He runs a frustrated hand over his hair. “What do you want?”

I lick my lips, nerves pricking my skin, but I move a step or two closer until he jerks his head for me to stop. “You never called.”

His gaze tangles with mine and now I can see the war that wages behind his eyes.

“You told me you’d call. I’ve been worried about Jenkins and wondering if—”

“He’s dead.”

I gasp and stumble back a step. Dead. “No . . . when?”

“On the way to the hospital. They couldn’t revive him. He had a massive embolism.”

My jaw is so tight it hurts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t answer, but only stares with a blank expression that makes him look inhuman.

“He died and you didn’t tell me! Why?” My voice cracks with the force of my anger and sadness that I lost a . . . well, a friend.

“Go home, Celia.” He turns to head through the gate.

Panicked, I grab his bicep.

He whirls, grips my forearm. “What did I fucking say about that, huh? I don’t want to hurt you . . .” Anymore is unspoken but communicated through the regret that shines in his eyes.

My chest rises and falls faster and faster. My head gets light with the hold Aden has on me along with his hot whiskey breath panting against my neck and the news that Jenkins’s last hour on this earth was spent in my hands.

“If you hadn’t . . .” I choke on emotion as it bubbles up in my chest. “Made me go on that kayak.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” He pulls me close enough to get my full attention. As if he didn’t already have it. “You think I don’t blame myself?”

I let out a cry and he must think it’s from his grip on me because he releases me and puts distance between us. My knees fail to hold me up and I drop, cradling my head in my hands. God, what is happening to me? Why does it feel like my chest is being ripped in two? Tears burn my eyes and my throat tightens with emotion. I just don’t know why. The logical side of me tries to convince me that Jenkins was old, that he’d lived his life, that this kind of death sneaks in when it’s least expected and no amount of medical intervention could’ve saved him.

But none of that helps.

Because it’s not so much Jenkins’s death that hurts.

It’s the thought that Aden is hurting and he’s thrown up some kind of impenetrable wall between us.

I’ve been nothing more than some plaything that he can cast aside without concern when he’s become so much more to me.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The mumbled words fall from my lips. I wasn’t supposed to become attached. I wasn’t supposed to get close enough to get hurt.

ADEN

This is exactly why I didn’t tell Celia that Jenkins died.

By the time I’d gotten to the hospital it was too late to even say goodbye. I waited as they pumped his chest, shocked him with enough volts of electricity to light the whole city, but he never responded.

So I did what I do best.

I drank until the pain went away.

Then I came back to my boat and passed out only to wake up sober enough to get it back to my slip at the marina and head to the bar to pick up where I left off.

The thought of calling Celia passed through my head once or twice, but when it did I chalked it up to being too sober and took three shots to drown out reason. Worked too. Until I stumbled home to find her fucking waiting for me with those big coaxing eyes and those damn lips that even the sanest man would sell his soul to taste, I fucking lost it.

And now she’s on her knees looking up at me as if I have the power to fix this. As if I’m the hero she’s been waiting for rather than the coward who’s perfected the art of hiding in the bottom of a bottle.

“Fuck.” I hold my hand out to help her up. This woman doesn’t deserve to feel the cold hard ground beneath her perfect skin, let alone sit out here in the dark alone waiting for an asshole like me. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

She takes my hand and once her warm palm hits mine I can’t help but tug her in and crush her to my chest. Her arms come around my waist and her body shakes with a silent sob as she leans on me for comfort.

“I’m not a good guy.” It kills me to say it, but she needs to know.

“You lost a friend, Aden.” Her fists grip the back of my tee and her breath skates along my skin. “You’re hurting. Don’t shut me out.”

I pull back knowing if I keep her close for a second longer I’ll take her to my boat and beg to get lost in her body. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

The soft mounds of her breasts press against my ribcage and I hiss as blood roars through my veins. “I tried to stay away.”

“I should let you go.” My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips going against the words that tumble from my lips.

“Or maybe you should hold on.”

I fork my hands into her hair and lift her lips to mine. The second they touch I know I’m not walking to her car. No force of will or military trained obedience can get me to release her.

I’m drowning in her.

In her touch, her effect, the way she looks at me as if she sees past the darkness in my soul to the man I was meant to be. The honorable man I was before. God, how I want to be that man again.

When I rip my mouth from hers, I punch in the five-digit code and grab her hand, leading her through the gate and down the dock to the boat.

She doesn’t speak or try to get away, but succumbs to my control as I help her aboard and usher her through the back door. I hold her hips from behind and steer her to my bed, the sheets balled up from a restless night’s sleep. Her thighs hit the mattress and I skate my hands up her sides, pulling her shirt up. She lifts her arms so I can tug it off and toss it to the ground. The moonlight casts her pale skin in an ethereal glow that makes her look otherworldly—an angel sent just for me.

I kiss a path from her shoulder to her earlobe, melting against the comforting warmth of her skin. “If you want to leave at any time, I won’t stop you.”

“I’m staying. As long as you’ll have me.”

I groan as her words soak through the drunken haze. “Always,” I whisper, and hook my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts to push them to the floor. “It hurts.” The weakness in my voice is humiliating, but I can’t help it. Being around Celia is disabling in the best way.

Nuzzling her neck, she tilts her head to allow me full access to the velvety skin of her throat. “I know.”

After I cover every inch with brushes of my lips I move to the other side. Goose bumps race across her skin and she goes weak in my hold.

Needing to feel her against me, I pull my tee off before wrapping a forearm around her chest and pressing her back to my front. “You feel so good.” With a hand in her hair I tug her head aside to get back to her neck, playing with her breasts until she’s arching and rubbing her round ass against me. Every stroke is like hitting a new button that lights her up even more.

Who needs booze when I have this responsive woman writhing with want in my arms?

I press between her shoulder blades, bending her over my bed. Following her down, I stretch her arms up over her head. “Stay like this. Don’t move.”

She sighs as I kiss a path down her spine, her skin like the sweetest silk on my lips. I move to her side and nip at the creamy mound of her breast that’s pressed to the bed. She arches her back, her ass teasing me until I’m painfully hard. All it would take is one slide of her panties to be buried deep inside, but I want to explore every inch of her body and bring her to the brink until she’s begging me to finish it. I want to be the man she thinks I am, strong and heroic, and hers.

With a frustrated grunt I flex my hips into her backside in a not so subtle request for her to be still. She whimpers and fists at the sheets as I move to her other side, nipping and licking until I’m bathed in the guttural sounds of her desire.

“You want this?” Another flex of my hips and she’s pushing back into me.

Beautiful.

“Never felt anything like this . . . Aden, it . . .” She sighs when I rotate my hips against her. “Aches.”

“Mmm . . .” I hum against her skin and kiss her lower back before sliding her panties down to her knees. My breath catches in my throat at the view of her before me and run my tongue up the backs of her thighs until her legs almost give out. “I want to take my time—”

“Please, don’t.” She rocks back into me. “I can’t take any more.”

“Shhh . . .” I cover her in worshipful swipes of my lips and tongue, making sure to linger on the spots that make her crazy. I remember telling myself one day I’d kiss every freckle and I intend to do just that.

I fantasized about feasting on her for hours and that’s exactly what I do until I can’t take another second of not being inside her.

I reach into a drawer at the side of my bed and pull out a condom, rolling it on quickly. I then push her panties to her ankles. “Keep these here.” She nods and I move her to her back before I nudge my way through the gap in her panty-restrained legs. Her thighs cradle my hips and she gasps at the feel of my hard-on resting between us. Her legs surround me like the warmest blanket and with her ankles locked behind my knees we’re fused together. “Want to feel you wrapped around me the entire time.”

Her hands lock behind my neck and she pulls me to her lips and kisses me softly once, twice, then slides her tongue along mine in a tentative stroke. I pull back as far as I can with her shackled ankles, and as I slide my tongue into her mouth I inch my way inside her body.

She rips her mouth from mine to groan in pleasure just as a long hiss escapes my lips.

“You’re so sweet, freckles. Every part of you, so fucking sweet.”

Her nails dig into my back and I thrust forward in response. Her neck arches and opens enough for me to bury my face as I rock in and out of her in a slow and deliberate rhythm. Entranced by every sound she makes I lean to one elbow to watch as her body writhes and rolls with every stroke.

Hungry for more, I reach behind her knee with one arm and her back with the other rolling us so that she’s on top, her ankles still locked behind my legs. Cocking my knees, she pushes up and—“Fuuuck, you’re gonna wreck me.”

She bites her lip and with her body towering over mine she grinds her hips against me. I slide my hands up to cup her breasts and toy with them until she throws her head back with a breathless gasp. Her pace quickens.

“Yeah, baby. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t.

“Gorgeous.” My teeth grind together to hold back my impending orgasm.

“Aden.” Her voice hitches on a quick breath and I know she’s close.

“Right here.” I grip her hips and hold her down while rolling in time with her, and that’s it.

Her fingers dig into my pecs and she cries out my name.

“Dammit, fuck.” I spit through my teeth as an orgasm bigger and more intense than I’ve ever felt shreds through me. My toes curl, my thighs constrict and bolts of pleasure shoot up my spine. My head gets light and I continue to move with her as every touch seems to extend the ecstasy.

She drops down on top of me, giving me all her weight, and I wrap her in my arms and try to get my head out of the clouds and back on stable ground.

“I’ve . . . that’s never happened to me before.”

I run my fingers up and down her back, her skin sticky from exertion and her sweet scent settles my soul. “It was new for me too.”

A long and drawn-out sigh falls from her lips and she wiggles to free her ankles from her panties before pushing off of me and dropping to my side.

I trash the condom, then pull her to me, thinking it’s been years since I’ve felt this sated, this totally and completely satisfied. Not just sexually, but down to my bones. She tames the monster inside.

She traces a pattern on my abdomen. “Aden?”

“Hm.”

“That woman, the one who was with you . . .”

I pinch my eyes closed.

“Was she the owner of the earring?”

“Yes.”

Her tiny frame seems to get even smaller at my side. I roll her over and position myself between her thighs, pinning her hips with mine. Cupping her face between my hands I lock eyes with hers. “One thing I will never do is lie to you, freckles.”

Her gaze drops to my chin.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does.

“Sydney is a waitress at the Office. Yes, it was her earring and yes, in the past, she and I have hooked up, but I haven’t even entertained the idea of Syd since you.”

“But tonight, she—”

“She knew Jenkins, hell, everyone in that bar knew him. We were all hurting, she brought up the idea of coming back to the boat but I told her no.” I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I told her about you, fuck . . . I couldn’t shut up about you.”

Her expression turns sour. “You didn’t hurt her feelings, did you?”

The corner of my mouth ticks up. “I don’t know many women who would genuinely be concerned about another woman’s feelings.”

She shrugs. “Well . . . that’s because until now, you never knew me.”

I groan and bury my nose into her neck. “Fuck, you’re something else.”

“Thank you for not sending me home.”

Afraid I’m crushing her, I drop to my back and pull her to my side. “Sorry for bein’ a dick.”

“You were drunk and grieving.”

“Still am.”

She tilts her head up to look at me. “Which one? Drunk or grieving?”

I search my feelings for a split second, not wanting to lie. “Maybe a little-a-both.”

Snuggling back into me, she kisses my chest. “Understandable. You feel like talking about it?”

Sex then talk?

I’ve never confided in a woman I’ve slept with.

But everything about this is different. Everything about Celia is different.

What that all means, I have no fucking clue.