Smooth Sailing Page 11
He lowered his mouth, took one of her pert, straining nipples between his teeth, licked it with his tongue.
Her breath came out in a hot rush, and suddenly, she was as wild and slippery as a dolphin, pulling him down on top of her. Her greedy mouth kissing his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose.
Jeb’s hunger equaled hers. He melded his mouth against hers and they dissolved into a tumble of arms and legs.
Gotta have her. Gotta have her now.
There was no fighting it.
His dick throbbed. Blood galloped through his veins, engorging him, hard and hot. His mind whirled. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Couldn’t even think. Primal urge overtook everything else.
Jeb had full command of her lips, but she was ready and waiting for him. She darted her sly, sweet tongue into his mouth, rushing pell-mell past his teeth. This moment rivaled the best day sailing. In fact, the dip and swoop of his blood as it rolled slickly through his veins reminded him of ocean swells.
She ran her fingers up and down his bare back, each stroke driving the heated urgency inside him higher and higher. How could a guy’s temperature be this hot and his brains not fry, his blood not boil?
Aah, wait. He was bursting into flames. Rocket ship to Mars. Buckle up and hang on tight.
She raked her fingers through his hair and arched her hips upward, driving him mad with the brush of her nipples beaded tight against his chest and the sight of her sweet honey hair down there—he had to have a taste!
Here I come, baby. No, wait, she didn’t like to be called baby and he didn’t want to call her that. He needed a nickname for her. A term of endearment he’d never used on another woman, but one that fit her perfectly.
Angel.
Good girl, always doing the right thing.
Angel of mercy.
He had to taste her goodness, inhale her and touch every inch of her sweet body. Let her halo light him up inside.
Her lips parted, supple and impatient, mimicking his every move. She dug her fingertips into his spine, squashing his chest against her breasts.
They were nose to nose, Jeb anchoring her to the mattress. He slipped one hand down her inner thigh, searching for her deep heat, finding out how ready she was for him. Gently, he rubbed an index finger along her soft flesh. “Angel.”
“Oh, you devil.” She sighed.
“You better believe it,” he whispered as he found his target and slipped a finger into her.
She trembled beneath his hand.
He shuddered and inched in another finger. When he found her sensitive button with the tip of his thumb, she moaned and pushed her hips up.
She was the most responsive woman he’d ever been with.
“That’s right, stud. You’re making the earth move for me.” She nibbled his earlobe. “But I don’t want to do this alone. I want you to come along with me.”
“I want this to last.”
“All good things must come to an end,” she said sagely. “Let’s do it up big.”
She was too damn wise for his good.
“Come,” she whispered and did this crazy thing with her hand, touched some erogenous spot he hadn’t known he possessed, and boom! He was off.
He couldn’t hold out any longer. He pushed into her. The minute her hot, intimate folds welcomed him, he whispered, “Angel.”
Her fingers were in his hair and she was rocking against him, chanting “Jeb” like a mantra.
She stopped breathing then.
Was she about to climax?
No, no, it was too fast. Jeb slowed down, pulled back. “Not yet, angel.”
“Don’t be contrary.” She pouted.
He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks and her chin as she wriggled impatiently beneath him. “You want me to make you come?”
“I want it now!”
“Whatever you say, angel.” He dropped his feet to the floor, pulled her to the edge of the mattress. The tip of his throbbing erection hovered just outside her sweet sex. She spread her thighs apart and he nudged against her entrance.
He looked down at her naked body through the golden haze of enchantment. Her lips were pink and shiny, her hair mussed, her breasts full and luscious. Damn, but she was the sexiest woman he’d ever known.
Haley writhed against him. “Get inside me now, Skipper, before this boat runs aground.”
“I can’t deny you anything.” He sank into her.
Haley held his hips and drew him in deeper.
They let out twin sighs.
The heat, the rocking of the boat, the heady smell of their combined sex pushed them over the edge. A few powerful thrusts and they were both lost at sea. Jeb came inside her at the same moment that Haley cried out in pleasure.
Exhausted, he clung to her, carried her with him as he rolled over onto his back. She lay on top of him now, peered down into his eyes.
Magic.
He’d always loved sex, but it had never felt like this. Freaking abracadabra magic.
Her hair trailed across his face, the scent of strawberries. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes. Best thing. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
The heat ebbed away, but the glow in his heart flared brilliant and bright.
He reached to kiss her, but she was gone, and his hand hit cool, empty sheet. Playing hide-and-seek, you little minx. Here I come.
The pun made him smile. He opened his eyes.
Haley stood in the door, fully clothed, a tray in her hand and a concerned frown furrowing her pretty forehead.
Don’t frown, angel.
“Are you all right? You were making the most dreadful moaning sounds.” She set the tray on the desktop, stepped over to the bed.
“What are you doing dressed?” he asked and tried to give her a rakish grin, but feared he came off looking like a sloppy drunk. His smile slipped.
She shrugged. “As if I’d be naked with you.”
“You were, just two minutes ago. How’d you get dressed so fast?”
“What are you talking about?” She stepped forward, but stopped abruptly. “Wait a minute!”
Ah, crap!
She pressed her lips together and her eyes twinkled. “Were you having a sex dream?”
“No, no,” he denied.
“Yes, yes.” She snapped her fingers, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. “That’s what all the moaning was about. If I’d known I wouldn’t have interrupted you.”
His chest tightened. All of that beautiful lovemaking nothing more than a fabulous dream. He forced a devil-may-care laugh. He wasn’t embarrassed. By sex? No, siree. Not he. Sex was normal. Natural. You thought you were really having sex with her. It had felt so damned real. How could a dream feel so real?
“You were having a sex dream. About me. About us.”
His face flamed. Jeb lowered his head. Dummy. He thought a sex dream was real. How could he have been so fooled?
“It’s okay.” She chuckled softly. “While I’m deeply flattered to be part of your sexual fantasies, it was all fever-induced. Nothing to be ashamed of. It happens. Simple biology.”
“Just a fever.” His body felt heavy and his heart shrunk in his chest. “Nothing but a fever.”
She leaned over to press a palm against his forehead. It was all he could do not to twist away from her touch. “Your fever’s gone. Don’t worry, I’m sure the naughty dreams are gone with it.”
Yes. Jeb gulped. That was exactly what he feared.
9
Telltales—Yarn or ribbons on the luff of a sail to help with trimming
“I MADE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP from scratch,” she said efficiently, professionally. Nurse mode. That was the best way to deal with this. It wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed a patient having a fever-fueled sex dream, but as far as she knew, it was the first time she’d had a starring role in one.
“You made me soup?” Jeb’s eyes widened in disbelief and he shook his head slowly. “That takes hours.”
She tried not to notice his bare chest—ha, as if she could—and tucked the covers underneath Jeb’s arms. The man could be a swimsuit model, no doubt about it.
He wriggled.
Hey, buddy, I’m just as uncomfortable about this as you are.
Straightening, she smiled. Put on a happy face. It worked for him—why not give it a shot?
“You’re spoiling me.”
“You should be very accustomed to that.” She picked up the legged tray, carried it to the bed and positioned it over his lap. She unfolded a paper napkin and spread it over his bare chest. There. Covered that dangerous puppy up.
“Mostly from people that I pay to spoil me. Not too many people do it for me spontaneously from the goodness of their generous heart.”
“What about your mother? Surely she spoiled you.”
“She paid the servants to spoil me. Does that count?” he quipped.
“Get out the violins for the poor little rich boy.”
A fleeting look of sadness flickered in his eyes, but he quickly snuffed it out with a wide smile. He might have had a plush childhood, but she had a sense that he’d gotten lost in the shuffle of multiple marriages and divorces and blended families. Was that why it was so easy for him to go with the flow? She admired that trait. How he didn’t let bumps in the road keep him from enjoying life. If only she could be more like him in that way.
“Usually, I’m the one doing the spoiling,” he said.
“You are the one with the money,” she pointed out.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s a bad thing in your eyes?”
She shrugged, sat down on the edge of the bed. Which was odd because nurses were trained not to sit on their patients’ beds. It went against everything she’d been taught, but here she was sitting on his bed. He was not her patient, after all. Rationalization did not excuse the behavior. She didn’t understand why she didn’t get up. “Money’s not bad. It’s the frivolous waste of it that gets to me.”
“Like ordering important equipment instead of splurging on a pretty solarium,” he said.
He was bringing that up, huh? “Well, now that you’ve mentioned it, yes. Solariums are nice, but not necessary. Medical equipment is a must-have.”
“The patients enjoy the solarium. Boosts their spirits and a happy patient is a healthy patient.”
“They live on an island. All you have to do is raise a window. No need for specific architecture that costs extra money.”
“You got your equipment.”
“Only after I butted heads with you. Everyone else was so eager to kiss your backside.”
“Because I was the guy with the wallet.”
“Don’t you get tired of it?”
“What?”
“Having people like you only because you have money.”
He pretended to pout. “Is that the reason? I thought it was my charm and devastating good looks.”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“That meeting was the first time I realized just how special you were.”
She ducked her head, slanted him a sideways glance. “Because I ticked you off?”
“You were the one who was ticked off,” he reminded her. “I was amused. You become passionate so easily.” He tracked a knowing gaze over her. “You’ve got a fire inside you, Haley French.”
She crossed her arms over her chest so he couldn’t see the way her body was reacting under his scrutiny. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”
“Are you ever off duty, nurse?”
“It’s ingrained in me. What can I say? Are you going to make me feed you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I like the sound of that.”
She snorted. “You would.”
“What do you have against men with money?”
“It’s not the money, per se. It’s the way money makes them feel entitled. As if they can have whatever they want.”
“What was his name?” Jeb asked.
“Who?”
“The rich guy who broke your heart.”
Haley’s eyes widened. How had he guessed? Bile burned a toxic path up her throat at the memory of Trey Goss. For the most part, she’d managed to put the past behind her. She didn’t like dwelling on something she could not change. “Who says a rich guy broke my heart?”
“Why else would you have such a chip on your shoulder for wealthy men?”
“Eat.”
He saluted her, picked up the soupspoon and pushed around chunks of chicken, carrots, celery, onions and egg noodles in the steamy broth. He took a few bites. “Mmm, this is really good.”
Why was she still sitting here? She had no answer. No excuse other than she wanted to make sure he ate. He needed nourishment. That was the only reason. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You’re not eating anything?”
“I had some soup before I brought it in to you.”
He ate every last drop with gusto. Great. That was a good sign. He was on the road to recovery. It was probably just one of those twenty-four-hour things. If he kept improving, she’d let him sail tomorrow.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Four in the afternoon.”
He looked relieved. “That’s not so bad. We were a day ahead of schedule, so even losing a day, we should still hit Key West by early Saturday morning as long as the weather cooperates.”
“It’s four in the afternoon on Wednesday,” she said. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday morning.”
“What!” He shoved the tray at her. “Here, take this.”
She stood, picked up the tray.
“We’ll have to sail through the night.”
“You’re not sailing anywhere tonight.”
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
“I am.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
“By holding your clothes hostage.”
“Then I’ll just sail naked.” Jeb swung his legs over the edge of the bed and, thankfully, kept the covers over his lap, but she couldn’t avoid that bare chest.
Oh, gosh, if he stood up, she would see his full naked body again. Unprepared. She was woefully unprepared for this, for him. “You’re too weak—”
He inhaled audibly, grabbed his head and muttered, “Whoa.”
She settled the tray onto the desk and then turned to press him back against the pillow, making sure to keep the covers over him. “Lie down.”
“I’m okay. Just sat up a bit too fast.”
“You’re getting better, but you’re in no condition to sail and your body is trying to tell you that.”
“Ever thought about becoming a drill sergeant? You’d be really good at it.”
“I’m looking after your best interests.”
“You know,” he said, “if someone else uttered that line, I wouldn’t believe them, but you…”
“But me what?”
“You really do put other people’s interests ahead of your own. You really do care.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m surprised because there aren’t many people like you in the world.”
She rearranged his covers again. Her heart did a crazy dip-swirl thing. He seemed to know exactly what to say to flatter her. He truly had a gift for soft soap. Lather me up. “There are more than you think.”
“You’re too generous.”
“And you,” she said sternly, “need to learn to ride out the consequences of your choices.”
“What does that mean?”
“You chose to spend the night in the rain and you got sick. You can’t get well on demand.”
“You’re blaming me for getting sick?”
“No, I’m saying you have to accept the consequences of your actions.”
“That’s harsh.”
&n
bsp; “That’s reality. You have a tendency toward magical thinking, Jeb.”
He looked as if she’d just run him through with a skewer. “Wow.”
“I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings. It’s just that…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“You see right through me. Am I that transparent?”
“To anyone who’s really looking at you.”
“You see me as I am, huh?”
“I believe I do.”
“And you still like me?”
“Who wouldn’t like you?”
“My point exactly.” He paused a long moment. “I’ve always believed I could do anything I set my mind to. You’d probably say it’s because I grew up privileged, and maybe you’d be right, but I seemed to have the ability to get what I wanted with a smile.”
The man did have a devastating smile.
“It never seems to work with you, though.”
“I wouldn’t say never.”
He smiled then, big and playful.
And she fell for it. Smiled back. Hey, smiling wasn’t going to hurt anything.
“You’ve got a point.”
“You agree with me?”
“When I was six or seven, I got it into my head that I could live in the water like a dolphin. My dad had a waterfront home, Tampa Bay—this was between wife number two and wife number three—and I’d spend summers with him. My dad has this pedal boat for us kids to play on, and one day after I’d gotten in trouble for something, I decided I was going to go live with my real family, the dolphins. So I pedaled out into the bay.”
“Alone?” Her insides tightened. She could just see him as a kid, totally heedless to the danger he was putting himself in. He must have driven his mother crazy with worry.
“Well, yeah. If I was going to go live with the dolphins, I didn’t want to take any people along with me. That would defeat the point. I was just about to dive off the boat when I thought it might be a good idea to anchor the pedal boat, just in case I couldn’t find the dolphins right off the bat.”
“This story is making me nervous.” She nibbled her bottom lip.
“Clearly,” he said, “I survived, so settle down, worrywart. I pedaled back to the house, got a cinder block, tied a rope around it, stuck it on the pedal boat and went back out.”