Chapter Fourteen
Rhenn
I almost stroked out when I saw Marissa standing on the deck in that blue bikini.
I’ve had women on here, too many to possibly count, but none of them have ever looked as amazing as she did standing in the sunlight. I wanted to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and stake my claim.
With my cock.
But, I’ve never been the claim-staking kinda guy. I’ve been the fun, free, and easy one, and while I want to be all of those things with Marissa too, a part of me – a very unfamiliar part – wants more with her. That’s why her no-strings sex offer is so perfect. I can work her out of my system – repeatedly, in my bed – and then walk away at the end, like I always do.
And the best part is she initiated it.
Talk about shocking. I didn’t think she was the casual sex kinda girl, but apparently I was wrong. Actually, no, I don’t think I’m completely wrong. I still don’t think she’s built that way, but I think she’s tired of fighting this constant attraction, this crazy, fiery lust that’s burning between us, and what better way than to fuck it out of our systems.
Perfect. Plan.
My dick is already anxious and ready to play. I just have to keep him under control for a little bit longer. Once Meghan and Nick head back to Jupiter Bay tomorrow, well, all bets are off.
Just like our clothes.
I have to suppress a groan as the visual of Marissa strutting around my boat all day without that fucking bikini fills my mind. That’s another thing I wasn’t expecting. Marissa gives off that one-piece vibe, or maybe even one of those little swim skirts. That dental floss bikini was a bit of a shocker to the ol’ ticker. She seemed a bit timid and nervous when she appeared on deck, which tells me it definitely isn’t her norm. I’m guessing her sister had something to do with it.
Remind me to send Harper a big bouquet of flowers when we return to land.
Marissa and I enjoy cubed cheese, fruit, and bottled water, while watching the waves. She hasn’t complained about feeling sick, so I take it the anti-nausea meds are working their magic. Thank Christ, because even though I would have returned to shore immediately, the thought of not witnessing her in her bikini makes the sunlight seem a little less bright.
“Feeling okay?” I ask, wanting confirmation.
“Actually, I feel great. I can’t believe I haven’t really felt sick at all,” she replies, finishing off the pineapple chunk on her plate.
“I’m glad.” We’re quiet for several more minutes, but it’s not uncomfortable. Actually, it’s the exact opposite. I don’t feel the need to add mindless chatter to our day, just for the sake of talking. Instead, I just enjoy her company and her presence beside me.
When our lunch is finished and we hear movement down below, I stand up. “Ready to catch a few rays? This is a pretty good spot to relax and sunbathe. We can head out mid-afternoon and find another place for the night.”
“Sounds good,” she replies, standing up and stretching. She reaches for the sky, her arms extending as far as they’ll go, and my mouth goes dry. Fuck, she’s beautiful, and all I want to do is strip that bikini off her lush body (possibly even throwing it into the ocean like her wrap – which I really didn’t mean to do, by the way) and lick every square inch of her. Every. Single. Inch.
Suddenly, her nipples pucker and strain against those little triangles, making my dick throb in my trunks. When my eyes connect with hers, I see nothing but lust. Want. I’d bet the papers of Runaround Sue that she’s fucking wet right now. Marissa moves, taking one step closer until her knees are touching mine. She wiggles between my legs, my body burning with desire, but I hold completely still. I’m letting her set the pace here, because if it were up to me, I’d already have her spread-eagle on the deck floor, my cock pounding into her wet pussy.
She leans forward, positioning her hands on my thighs. The motion brings her tits closer, along with her mouth. Her lips are pink and wet, ripe for kissing, and it takes every ounce of self-control I didn’t even realize I had to not kiss her, but I’m letting her call the shots, remember?
Then her eyes drop to my cock and her breathing hitches. My hands flex and my palms itch to touch her skin. I’m ready to sell my left nut to the devil just for one little taste. Her hands grip my thighs, her nails biting my skin through my trunks. Control is quickly vanishing, leaving nothing but a craving for this woman that may never be quenched.
I shake that thought out of my mind too as her hands slowly move toward my cock, so fucking slowly that I think I might actually die before they reach their destination. Her eyes connect with mine once more just as her hands are mere centimeters from my aching dick, and I can already tell that once she makes contact, there’ll be no stopping this freight train. Once she touches me, it’s all over with but the orgasms. A lot of orgasms. So many, she won’t be able to walk tomorrow. And the look in her green eyes tells me she’s ready.
Just as she reaches for me, voices interrupt our porno-quality moment. Marissa jumps back as footsteps ascend the stairs and my friend and his wife come into view. They both look completely sated, dopey grins on their orgasm-happy faces, and suddenly my balls are turning bluer than my eyes.
Cockblocking assholes.
They sit down across from us, Meghan placing her legs across Nick’s lap as he feeds her bites of pancakes. She moans in delight, a sound that makes my internal organs twist with outrage. “Sooo goooood,” she moans, licking the syrup off her bottom lip.
Nick reaches over and swipes a bit of leftover syrup off her lip, bringing his finger to his mouth and savoring the taste. When he glances my way, I try to kill him with my eyes. “What?” he asks, all innocently and smug-like.
“Fuck you. I hope you fall overboard and drown.” He seems a bit surprised by my outburst before glancing down. I know my dick is still rock hard, and I should definitely be embarrassed. But I’m not. The cockblocker deserves to die.
Nick busts up laughing before returning his attention to his wife, feeding her another bite. “Bedroom’s free,” he says, throwing Marissa a quick wink. She turns a bright shade of pink before grabbing our trash and heading below deck. I want to follow her, I want to really bad, but I refrain. If I do, I’m liable to throw her down on the table and screw her until the sun goes down.
My friends be damned.
Hope they brought earplugs.
When she finally returns, she appears a bit more composed. Towel in hand, she glances around for a place to lay it out where she can get a little sun. I know the perfect spot. Standing up and reaching for her hand, we head toward the bow. We step around the mast to the flat area where the skylights are. “Be careful of those,” I tell her, pointing to the globes that let the sunlight in below deck. “This is the best place to catch some sun.”
I take her towel and spread it out, and before I can run and grab my own and lie beside her, Meghan joins her. She spreads out her own towel and tosses a bottle of sunscreen to her cousin. “Here, you do my back. I’d have Nick, but then he’d think it was an invitation for sex, and frankly, right now, I need a break,” she says to Marissa, a little giggle escaping her lips.
As soon as she applies the lotion to Meghan’s back, she hands the bottle over to her. “Please?”
“I’ll do it,” I say, my voice low and gravelly. I don’t let Marissa argue as I grab the bottle from Meghan’s hands, noting the smug smile on her face, and squirt a glob of sunscreen in my hands.
And then I rub her down.
Her skin is soft.
It’s warm to the touch.
My entire body ignites into flames once more.
Bad idea. Very bad idea. I should not be touching her right now, yet the sadistic asshole in me can’t seem to stop. In fact, I go a little slower just to draw out the torture even more.
“I think you got it there, buddy,” Nick quips behind me, handing each of the girls a bottle of water.
Reluctantly, I move my hands, severing contact with her back. On wooden legs, I slowly move, allowing her room to lie on her stomach beside her cousin. They instantly start talking, completely dismissing both Nick and me. We both watch for a few minutes before returning to the main deck.
Deciding to catch a few rays myself, I toss my T-shirt onto the chair beside me, grab the offered beer, and exhale deeply. The next twenty-four hours is going to be the ultimate test of my willpower. I vowed not to do anything while we have company on board, but I’m finding it harder and harder (pun intended) to give two shits about that anymore.
Marissa. I’m completely consumed, and in this exact moment, I can’t seem to find the strength to worry or care about how much I want her. I sit back, my face turning toward the sun, and listen to the sweet sound of her voice. In the past, when I’ve had guests on the boat, I was all about the party scene. Drinking, sailing, and sex. But suddenly, I find it hard to picture how it used to be. Instead, I revel in her voice and the calm that seems to wash over me while she talks.
“Welcome to the other side,” Nick says.
I want to ask him what he’s talking about, but I already know. “It’s temporary.” Sure, I say it to him, but to myself as well. As natural and good as it feels to have her here, I know that at the end of our two weeks, I’ll be heading home and she’ll be staying. I’ll go back to my old life filled with random women who I barely remember the next day, and she’ll go back to baking her treats and taking care of the bed and breakfast. Our worlds don’t mesh.
It’s temporary, right?
“If you say so.”
* * *
Later that evening, Nick and I are sitting in the living area, watching the girls cook in the galley. We’re drinking a beer, talking about summer plans, but both of us keep returning our eyes to the women across the way. Meghan and Marissa have quickly become friends, not just cousins, and it’s hard to believe they just met for the first time yesterday.
We’ve been kicked out of the kitchen, neither of us allowed to ask what they’re making, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out, since there’s only so much food in the fridge. Meghan is working on a salad, while Marissa switches from manning the portable grill I took upstairs and the range, where I’m pretty sure she’s sautéing onions and mushrooms.
“When do you think you’ll be finished with the job?” Nick asks, instantly making my chest tight.
“Two weeks. I’ve only got a bit left on the upstairs rewire, but then I have to do the downstairs, including rewiring the living room, dining room, office, and back sitting area, but also new wiring in Mary Ann’s living space. It’s pretty extensive, but it needed to be done. The old stuff was original.”
“They’re lucky they didn’t have a fire before now,” Nick says.
“True, but everything was still within code. Now, though, they won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“I think Marissa is still freaked out,” Nick says quietly, making me stop messing with my beer bottle and turn his way.
“Really?”
He nods before glancing over at the ladies. “She told Meghan she still has nightmares.”
That makes me pause and sit up straighter. I know plenty of people have complained about being afraid, following a house fire, and I don’t know why I didn’t think more about that where Marissa’s concerned. In fact, I wonder if anyone in her family has thought about it. Has she told anyone else about these nightmares? I make note to pry a little deeper into this new development. Why? Because I care and I want to make sure she’s okay.
Gut check.
That realization is like a kick to the stomach, but it’s true. I do care about her wellbeing, more so than I have with any other woman.
“Dinner is ready,” Meghan announces proudly, bringing over two full plates and silverware to the table for her and her husband. It’s small, but we’ll all fit comfortably.
“I hope you don’t mind I made you a plate,” Marissa says shyly as she hands me a plate.
“I don’t mind at all,” I tell her, accepting the dish. It’s heaped with fresh salad, fresh steamed green beans with bacon and grated Gouda cheese, and a steak with those sautéed mushrooms and onions.
My stomach growls.
“Meghan says you like your steak medium,” she says nervously as she squeezes in the chair beside me. Okay, it’s a little tighter fit with four than anticipated, but I’m not complaining considering I’ve got a beautiful woman pressed against my side like a second skin.
“I do,” I answer, cutting into the steak so tender I could probably use a butter knife. I pop the first bite into my mouth and groan. “Jesus, that’s good.”
Nick takes a bite of his, moaning his own agreement, and turns to the woman at my side. “That’s the most tender steak I’ve ever had.”
“It should be. She beat the hell out of it with a mallet before you guys came down,” Meghan adds, taking a bite of her own food.
“Well, it helps that they were good cuts of steak,” Marissa replies, blowing off the compliment.
“And she marinated them in fruit,” Meghan says between bites.
“Fruit?” I ask, giving her my attention.
“Well, sea salt and a bit of papaya and pineapple. The acids in the fruit actually help break down tough meat and tenderize it.” Again, she blushes as she pokes around at her green beans.
“No shit?” I ask, surprised by this tidbit of information. “I’ve always just thrown the steak on the grill, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and called it good.”
“And you can do that; grilling helps tenderize meat too, but over the years, I’ve experimented with different ways to grill and bake. One of my old professors in a cooking class told us that certain acidic fruits will help tenderize meat. She wasn’t wrong.” Marissa shrugs and takes a bite of her food. She chews slowly, as if savoring the flavors, and I realize I could watch her eat all day long. It’s sexy.
After dinner is finished, and Nick and I clean up the dishes, we return to the deck above to watch the sunset. We’re closer to the shore than we were earlier today, off the coast of South Carolina, where the waters are calm and peaceful. Nick turns on the radio while I grab us a few more beers, and we settle in to watch the sun dip below the shoreline.
Small talk comes easy, and so do the stories. Each tale of our childhood is a bit more embarrassing than the last. We’ve got the girls in stitches by the time the yawns start. I admit that I really don’t want tonight to end. Marissa is curled into my side, my arm slung over her shoulder and my finger brushing across her sun-kissed skin. She seemed a little hesitant at first, but eventually relented to the cuddle-ability my body promised.
“I’m exhausted,” Meghan says, standing up and reaching for Nick’s hand.
“That’s my cue.” He takes her offered hand, brings it to his lips, and escorts her down the stairs.
“If you could try to be a bit quieter tonight, I’d appreciate it,” I throw at them before they escape below.
“I hope you brought earplugs,” is all he says as he disappears below, a laugh following in his wake.
“Asshole.”
“You love him.”
Chuckling, I reply, “I do. He’s a great guy. I’m lucky to have him as my friend.”
“I really like him and Meghan, well, and everyone else too. I can’t wait to meet the rest of the family.”
“They’re almost overwhelming, but in a good way,” I respond as I stand up, extending my hand. She takes it instantly, her hand fitting so perfectly within mine. I push that thought aside, though, as I bring it up to my own lips. Her skin is so soft, delicate even. It makes me want to run my lips over her entire body.
I make sure the boat is secure before heading downstairs, following Marissa as I go. I shut the door, keeping the outside out for the night, and cutting off the wind noise. We can still hear the waves, still feel the gentle rocking of the boat, and for some reason, I truly hope she finds it as relaxing as I do.
“I don’t think they’re in the bathroom anymore. You can take it first,” I tell her, noticing the bathroom door is open from our side. Thank God. Otherwise, I’d be forced to knock on their door, interrupting whatever is going on in there, and ask them to unlock this side.
Marissa heads over to the drawer I gave her to use and grabs some clothes before closing herself in the bathroom. I use the opportunity to give my dick a pep talk about how to appropriately act when in the presence of a friend. A friend that has agreed to sex, but a friend nonetheless. We haven’t hit that phase in our friendship yet, but my dick doesn’t seem to care. I told her I’d wait, so I wait.
Dammit.
I grab a pair of shorts from the drawer I threw my clothes in while Nick and Meghan are here. I’d much rather sleep naked, but that’s not the best option for tonight. I don’t want to scare Marissa away before we even have an opportunity to test out this whole friends with benefits option. Since she’s still in the bathroom, I step into the small storage room beneath the stairs and change out of my trunks. They’re not wet anymore from today’s swimming adventures, but there’s no way I want to sleep in them tonight.
When my shorts are on and my trunks thrown over the pile of kitchen supplies, I glance around the small space. It was meant to be a second bedroom, only enough room for a twin size bed, but the couple who owned the boat before me didn’t have it finished that way. They didn’t have kids, therefore didn’t feel the need for a second bed. It sure would be coming in handy right about now. Hell, it would have come in handy from day one. Usually I take the bed and Nick is forced to sleep on the tiny fold out couch that he’s way too big for.
I should finish this room.
When I step out of the room, Marissa’s standing in the living room. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that hits mid-thigh and her face is free of makeup. I can’t help but notice she looks just as beautiful without the little bit of makeup she wears as she does with it. In fact, with her standing in that sleep shirt, I think she’s even more gorgeous.
The only thing that would make this scene better is if it were my shirt she was wearing.
I head over, releasing the table from the floor, and move it out of the way. Opening the cabinet above the drawers, I pull out two blankets and pillows, even though I’m pretty sure I won’t be using one tonight. Dropping the bedding in the chair I’ll try to sleep in, I unfold the couch into the futon bed. I can feel her eyes on me while I lay a sheet down, toss the pillow toward the head, and drape the blanket over the rest. When our eyes connect, sexual energy zips through the air, zapping my fraying nerves. This is a bad idea. I can tell. There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep with her mere feet away, not when I’ve already seen what her body looks like in a bikini and not when all I want to do is rip off that nightshirt and have my wicked way with her.
I can feel my cock growing, thickening like he’s ready to play. Instead of giving in to the urge to touch her skin, I motion for the bed. I can’t even find words.
“Thank you,” she says, grabbing the blanket and sliding underneath. Of course, I catch a glimpse of smooth thigh and pink panties before she’s able to cover herself.
That image is now burned in my retinas.
“Well, good night,” I say, turning off the light and grabbing my own blanket. I throw it around like I’m angry at it, but in reality, I’m angry with myself. I’m angry at the way I react to her, even though I don’t want to. I don’t want to want her as badly as I do, but fuck, I can’t help it.
“Night.”
I toss and turn for ten minutes, trying to get in a comfortable position, but that’s hard when you’re sitting up. And have a boner. The pillow is useless, just as I expected, and does nothing to keep my head from falling back. There’s too much space between the back of the seat and wall, so that doesn’t help. My legs are extended out in front of me, occasionally coming in contact with the futon bed.
And to make it worse? I can hear her. Her breathing. Her skin sliding against the bedding. Her soft little sighs as she tries to get comfortable too. I. Can. Hear. Her. And it’s driving me absolutely wild.
“Rhenn?” she asks, my cock pulsing in my shorts at the way she says my name.
“Yeah?” I ask, my voice hoarse and my throat thick.
“Will you please come over here and sleep beside me. I know you’re not comfortable, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep knowing that.”
May Day, May Day!
Bad idea, Captain!
“I’m fine,” I reply tightly.
“You’re not fine.” In the moonlight spilling from the skylights, I see her sit up. “It probably won’t be comfortable here either, but at least you’ll be lying down.” And then she goes for the kill. “Please.”
That’s the moment I know I’ll never be able to deny her anything, as long as we both shall live. I’ll do whatever she wants, whenever she wants it, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face. She owns my body, sure, but something more. She just pushes her way right on in, staking her claim on something I haven’t given freely or willingly in a decade.
Knowing it’s fruitless to fight her, I get up and slip behind her on the futon. She’s turned on her side, facing away from me, so that we both fit. I instantly feel the heat of her body and willingly let it envelop me in its immediate comfort. Lying on my side behind her, I’m able to extend my feet onto the chair I was trying to sleep on.
Marissa moves back, the globes of her perfect ass pressing against my swollen cock. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean to, but we’re so close that it’s impossible for us not to touch. See why this was such a bad idea? My brain says abort, but my cock says free me now. She adjusts again, the soft material of her panties sliding easily against the material of my shorts, and a moan of pure torturous pleasure threatens to spill from my lips. I have to grab her hip to keep her from moving. I’m not sure I can take much more.
“I really think you should stop moving, Angel.” My words are tight again, just like my shorts.
She pauses, a small gasp filling the cabin. But then my little vixen does exactly what she shouldn’t do – not if she wants to keep this little spoon-fest PG-13. She arches her back, firmly pressing her ass against my aching cock.
My mind blanks.
My cock starts to cry with happiness.
My body bursts into flames.
“What if I don’t want to stop moving?” she asks, not in the least bit innocently.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing. I want you too much right now, Marissa,” I whisper, my hand squeezing her hip.
“Rhenn?” she asks, my control a thread away from breaking completely.
“Yeah?”
“Touch me.”
And just like that, she throws a can of gas on an already raging inferno. “You sure?” I ask, timidly moving my hand from her hip to her bare stomach.
She quietly whimpers as my fingers flex against her skin. “God, yes. Please,” she begs, wiggling backwards until her ass makes contact with my cock again. She grinds against me, making me quickly realize I’m two seconds away from blowing like a virgin. I’ve wanted her for too long, fantasized about this very moment, and I know if I don’t put a little distance between us, I’m going to do something embarrassing.
Instead of letting my dick call the shots, I slide my hand between her legs. She’s already wet. I can feel it through her panties, and my mouth waters to taste. But not tonight. Tonight, I’ll give her the release she’s craving, without completely mortifying either of us if my friends come out for a drink and find me with my head between her legs.
Though, it would be their fault for not knocking first.
Instead, I opt to move my hand beneath the wet material. Her skin is smooth, with just a small trail of hair. Next time, I’m tracing that trail with my tongue. Gently, I slip my fingers between the lips of her pussy, her clit already swollen and pulsing under my touch. And she’s wet. So fucking wet right now that it makes my balls ache. She coats my fingers as I tease and toy with her, little gasps of pleasure spilling from her lips.
She grinds against my cock and I know it would only take a quick second to remove the clothing barriers between us and slide home. She’s ready, and I’m so fucking ready it hurts. But that’s not what’s going to happen tonight.
My fingers tease her entrance and she lifts her leg, throwing it over mine. She’s giving me access, begging to come. With one finger, I gently push inside her warm, tight pussy. So. Fucking. Tight. I instantly feel her clench around it. She’s already that close. “God, do you feel good, Angel.”
Marissa whimpers, rotating her hips and taking what she wants. When I add a second finger, I know she’s mere seconds away from coming. Her gasp is the sweetest sound as I thrust both fingers into her tight body and rest my palm against her clit. The contact causes her to clamp down, her entire body tightening with need. “Let go, baby. I got you,” I whisper as I grind my palm and plunge my fingers into her pussy once more.
Her release is amazing – there’s no other way to describe it. She shudders against me, rocking her hips and riding out wave after wave of pleasure. She’s so tight that I can’t even move my fingers anymore, so I just lie there, slowly moving my palm and reveling in the feel of her pulsating around me.
Best. Fingerbang. Ever.