Say My Name

Page 92

That turns out not to be a problem, either, as Megan has left both flip-flops and canvas skids in the closet. They’re a tiny bit too big, but not enough that it’ll be a problem. “I guess I’m all set,” I say.
“Good. Because all I want to do right now is get the boat out of the marina, put her on autopilot, and make love to you on the deck.”
“Well,” I say, delighted. “I really can’t argue with that.”
I follow him back onto the deck, then watch, feeling slightly useless, as he unties the ropes holding the boat in the slip, then carefully maneuvers her out of the marina.
When we’re in the open water, he offers the captain’s chair to me.
“Seriously?”
“It’s just like driving a car,” he says, and though that’s not entirely accurate, it’s close enough. For that matter, it’s a little bit easier, because I only have to go forward. Staying within the lines really isn’t an issue.
He stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his lips brushing my hair as I maneuver the yacht and try to focus on what I’m doing. “You know you’re distracting me, right?”
“And yet I’m unconcerned about collisions.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why was Megan mad? At the screening, I mean.”
His hands halt. “Because I’d done a stupid thing.”
I tilt my head so that I can see him. “And have you fixed it?”
“Yes,” he says. “I think I have.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t press. Instead, I let him put the boat on autopilot, then take me to the other side of the top deck with the huge mattress and low tables for snacks and drinks.
“Sunset’s soon,” he says. “I’ll go get some wine.”
I watch him descend, feeling the sun beat down on me. The air is cool, but the way the boat is constructed puts this deck in a small depression so that I’m not chilled by the rush of the wind as the boat moves across the water.
Still, Jackson’s well prepared, because I find both blankets and pillows in a small wooden chest, and I pull them out and lay them over the mattress, making a small nest for us to snuggle down in.
And then, because I’m feeling just a bit wild and I want him to know it, I peel off the dress and slide under one of the blankets.
“Well, now. This is very interesting.” He’s returned with the wine, and is looking at me with the kind of heat that makes me very glad I’ve already abandoned my pesky clothes. His eyes flick up to where I’ve left the dress draped over a chair, and then back down to where I am propped up against some pillows, the blanket pulled just high enough to cover my breasts. “Very interesting indeed.”
He leans over and flicks a switch on a trunk-sized gray box that sits a few feet away. “Deck heater,” he says in response to my questioning glance. “I intend to pull that blanket down, and I’d hate for you to get a chill.”
I grin. “How very thoughtful of you. And what do you intend to do once you’ve rid me of my blanket?”
“Many things.”
I hesitate, then try to keep my voice casual as I say, “The kinds of things you talked about in the car?”
He slants a glance my way as he lowers himself on the mattress next to me. “Is that what you want?” He trails a finger over the top edge of the blanket. Just the lightest of touches, but the sparks from the contact ricochet through me, driving me a little bit crazy. “To go a little bit wild? A little bit kinky?”
His voice has gotten softer even as his tone has become more commanding. It’s an intense combination, and I feel my sex clenching in response to nothing more than his words. “Are you longing to submit completely, trusting me to give you what you need? To take you where we both know you want to go?”
I nod, not sure I can handle speech at the moment. His smile is slow and sexy and victorious. He leans over and brushes a kiss over my lips. “Good. I want that, too.” His finger hooks the top of the blanket and he pulls it down slowly to reveal all of me. My breasts, my waist, my hips, my sex. I hear the low noise he makes in his throat and feel the pleasure that comes with knowing he wants me. Then I shiver as he tugs the blanket the rest of the way down, exposing my legs, my feet, my toes.
“Beautiful.” His voice holds wonder, as if he has just discovered treasure, and I tremble with delight knowing that it is me that has filled his senses.
He bends down, then draws my big toe into his mouth, sucking gently. I arch up at the unexpected sensation—the sensual sparks that race up my inner thighs to my already throbbing sex. “Oh, god.”