Riding the Storm Page 10

  They could always sail into the wind and wait out the storm, but with Block Island close by and the marina easily accessed, he preferred to get on shore for the night.

  As much fun as it might be for them to ride the waves, he wouldn’t press his luck.

  He lost track of time as he handled the sheets, making frequent adjustments to keep the Vesta on course. Finally, Josie called to him through the rain, waving the shipboard radio to show that she was speaking to someone. Her wet clothes fit her like a second skin, the trim life jacket she wore doing too damn little to hide the appeal of her curves.

  “It’s the marina. They said we’ll have to draft!” she shouted over the howling wind, her hand on the mouthpiece. “But they have room for us in the marina.”

  Not exactly an ideal situation, but he’d take it. Keith hoped Jack kept extra bumpers on board, since that meant they’d be sharing a slip with another boat.

  “Get a slip number,” he instructed, striding toward her to…peel those wet clothes off? No, damn it, he was there to double-check their heading. Forcing his brain back into gear, he added, “Tell them to have a dock-master meet us. We’re going to need help if we don’t have much room to work.”

  Nodding, she relayed the message, while he looked at the map over her shoulder. She’d done a good job navigating, all things considered. He’d thrown her in without much guidance, but she’d kept things on course like a seasoned first mate in spite of the downpour. He made a quick adjustment as she finished her call to shore.

  “It’s slip 205,” she reported, standing on her toes to see up over the deck to the horizon. “Should we be watching for traffic if we’re close to the marina?”

  He grinned in spite of their speed, the storm and the ominous cloud of unspoken issues that hovered between them. He’d pegged her for a workaholic right from the start, and sure enough, he gave her a job to do and she worked her tail off at it. Surely there had to be some reasonable answer to his questions about her partying past.

  “I leave you alone here for fifteen minutes, and suddenly you’re seizing command?”

  Her eyes snapped back to his. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that a good captain keeps a lookout. And this boat is not going down on my watch.”

  “Mine neither,” he protested, indulging his desire to touch her by stroking a finger down one side of her face. “My brother will go into heart failure if anything happens to the Vesta, for one thing. Not to mention I’ll never hear the end of it if my sailing skills prove subpar.”

  She nodded, never cracking a smile. And he knew something had her worried. Probably not the storm, since she’d embraced the waves and the rain like an old sea captain. Could she be thinking about the end of their relationship? Funny how he could read her mood even without her uttering a word. That said a lot about how well he’d gotten to know her in a very short time.

  “Hey.” He tipped her chin up, to find her skin soft and cool beneath his fingertips. “Everything is going to be fine. We’re almost there now and I’ll have help tying up the boat. We made incredible time, traveling so far through weather like this.”

  “Where are we?” she asked, a hint of exasperation leaking through. “Where are we going? The digital maps are about impossible to read through all the rain.”

  “Block Island.” He ran his thumb along the column of her throat, not wanting her to worry. “Off the coast of Rhode Island.”

  “And you really think we need to give up and head to shore?” She peered up at the sky as if a stray ray of sunshine might penetrate the thick clouds.

  Did she ask out of concern for what was safest? Or was she reluctant about ending their trip together?

  “Docking is a good option.” Rechecking the GPS his brother had installed as an upgrade, Keith realized he needed to slow down and motor the rest of the way in. “The Vesta can weather the swells and the rain, but if the wind picks up, it could get even worse. We’ll be on dry land soon and I can find a flight back home for you by tomorrow if you want. Okay?”

  The reminder of the time limit on their relationship didn’t put him at ease, even though he knew now that was probably wisest. His gut twisted unexpectedly at the thought of letting her go. Of never again feeling her soft body writhe under him, or never seeing her come unraveled in his arms, flushed and replete.

  “What can I do?” she asked again, swiping away a trail of water sliding down her forehead toward one eye.

  With the rain plastering a dark strand of hair against her cheek, Keith knew she couldn’t share much in common with his ex-girlfriend no matter what she said. Brooke would have simply taken the sound system below deck during a storm, making sure the party didn’t stop because of the rain. It never would have occurred to her to help him sail a boat. For that matter, she wouldn’t have set foot on a vessel that wasn’t navigated by a hired professional crew. Brooke and manual labor didn’t mix.

  Josie steered them onward and embraced the adventure.

  He took a deep breath. “You can forgive me for thinking you were anything like my former girlfriend.” He dropped a quick kiss on Josie’s cheek. “Keep up the good work steering. We’re almost there.”

  LIFTING HER HAND to her face, Josie touched the spot where Keith had kissed her. Not even the cold spray from a rogue wave could take away the warmth from that place. The deeper heat it inspired in spite of everything.

  Squinting through the downpour to the GPS display that showed their direction, she bided her time while he took down the storm sheets and switched to engine power for more control as they docked. They motored slowly toward shore, features of which took shape out of the mist that had rolled over them after the rain started.

  Her role was minimal, as two men from the marina came out to help Keith tie up the boat. Apparently “drafting” meant sharing a spot with another vessel, but according to one of the dockworkers, the other boat belonged to an older couple who took it out only occasionally. So Keith wouldn’t need to worry about moving the Vesta until the storm passed.

  Josie sat, somewhat comfortably, under a canopy Keith had found that snapped over the cockpit area to keep the captain—her, in this case—dry. Her clothes were still soaked, but it was easier to see the controls without raindrops streaking across them. Besides the GPS, she could read the speed setting.

  Not bad for a reformed party girl. She had the impression that Keith was pleased with her efforts to get them through the storm, because ever since he’d planted that kiss on her cheek an hour ago, he’d been casting her sly glances that made her blood simmer. Besides, he’d said she was nothing like his ex—a statement that apparently meant good things—and that had warmed her in a different way.

  All in all, she couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the day held in store for them.

  Now, his green eyes roamed over her as he tipped the dockworkers and assured them he and Josie would be ashore shortly. Apparently, he’d booked a suite in a hotel here, if the waves became too high for them to ride out the storm on the sailboat. She’d discerned that much by careful eavesdropping through her canvas hideaway.

  Maybe the idea of going their separate ways tomorrow was messing with his head as much as it was hers. She knew one thing—she was going to make the most of tonight, with the possibility of saying goodbye looming.

  The marina was shrouded in mist, a few buildings looming through the fog. Their slip was the farthest out, with nothing but ocean on their port side. To the starboard, a big yacht with the shades pulled tight blocked most of their view, although Josie could see the tops of a few masts through the grayness. They bobbed eerily, seemingly disconnected from any watercraft.

  Peering through the plastic window in the canopy, she watched Keith stalk toward her in the rain, his dark T-shirt plastered to his skin in a way that revealed every striation of muscle along his chest and abs. With his dark hair slicked to his head, he had a dangerous look to him. Although part of that might be the fact that he hadn’t shaved in a while.

&nb
sp; It was a look that worked for him. He could have swapped places with his hockey star brother in a heartbeat, because right now he appeared every inch the tough-guy athlete ready to take his gloves off and rumble at the slightest provocation. Mostly he looked sexy and very, very male. Steam drifted up from his back and shoulders, the weather cooling him off after all his hard work to tie up the boat.

  “Josie?” he called through the canopy. “Do you want to check in at the marina’s resort to dry off?”

  Noting the way his eyes dipped to travel leisurely over her body, she guessed he had some ideas in mind for the hotel. But she’d spotted the building on shore before the worst of the mist rolled in, and it looked like a long walk through the rain to get there. Too long to wait to put her hands on him.

  “Not especially.” She sauntered closer to the clear plastic, which functioned as both a window and a door. Pulling off a few snaps, she stepped through. “With all the heated looks pinging around here and warming me up, I think I’d like to get wet.”

  She meant getting wet in the rain. Truly, she did. But, that was so not what Keith heard. She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed as he strode forward, zeroing in on her like a homing device.

  “That is…” She thought about explaining but the heat simmering between them proved too mesmerizing. Sultry.

  She was pretty sure the raindrops that fell on her skin evaporated on contact, because she didn’t notice them. She saw only the man in front of her. Felt only the magnetic pull of attraction.

  “I’m right there with you.” His arms went around her, eliminating the need for words.

  Whatever misunderstandings remained between them would still be there later; she didn’t doubt it for a minute. But she’d come on this trip with Keith to indulge herself, and she planned to make the most of every stolen moment while they had the privacy to explore this explosive heat.

  Rising up on her toes, she kissed him. Rain sheeted down her back, soaking her shirt again and providing a cold contrast to the heat of his chest against her breasts, the molten possession of his lips. Closing her eyes and her thoughts to everything else, she gave herself over to his touch.

  Broad hands spanned her waist, smoothed down her hips. He pulled her hard against him, molding her curves to fit the stark, unyielding planes of all that taut muscle, while his tongue stroked hers, claiming her.

  Her knees turned rubbery and failed to hold her up. She would have fallen if not for his strong arms keeping her right where he wanted her. Her head spun with images of all the ways they could pass the rest of the day together, all the ways they could explore each other….

  Keith seemed to have unleashed her inner sex goddess, a facet of herself she had not guessed existed until he touched her. She couldn’t imagine walking away from this. From him. But with their time together quickly running out, she broke their kiss to venture a request in his ear.

  “Let’s stay on board,” she whispered, her tongue darting out to catch a raindrop rolling along the lobe. “I’ve been having a major pirate fantasy…”

  “Is there ravishing involved?” His words were a soft vibration against her throat as he kissed his way down her neck.

  Answering shivers trembled through her and they didn’t have a thing to do with the rain.

  “Constant ravishing,” she confided, tipping her head back to better feel the heady combination of his hot tongue and the cold raindrops sliding over her skin, down into the hollow between her breasts. “I’m very innocent and this pirate in my fantasy is insatiable for my—”

  He hauled open the front of her blouse, sending buttons popping and rolling over the deck. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he slipped his thumbs inside the demi-cups of her yellow lace bra.

  A hungry whimper escaped her lips as he circled each tip, teasing her into incoherence. Which was fine, since he obviously needed no further instruction on how to play the conquering pirate.

  Lips fastening onto one nipple, he drew the tight crest into his mouth. Waves rocked the boat as the storm picked up force. She could have stayed there forever, captive to that seductive kiss, but he hoisted her up in his arms and carried her across the deck to the companionway. Blinking her eyes open, she met his gaze, a laser-hot force that melted her insides.

  Confident he understood exactly what she needed, she allowed her head to tip into the crook of his arm, taking shelter against his body. He descended the short steps below deck in two strides, bringing them into the protected salon where they’d made love the first time.

  He set her on her feet, only to make quick work of removing her clothes. Kissing her, he held her fast while he tugged off her scarf and the remains of her shredded blouse. Her fingers pulled at his T-shirt, rolling it up until she had to break their kiss to yank the damp fabric over his head. Sopping clothes fell away as he walked her backward, kissing, nipping, touching. She went for the fastening of his cargo shorts just before they reached the queen berth, but he restrained her wrists in a grip that reminded her of his pirate status.

  Her skin tightened in response and a new wetness warmed her thighs. She’d never responded so fully, so quickly to any man. But Keith Murphy had her number, taking her fleeting fantasies and wringing the most mileage possible from them.

  “Keith…” She wanted to tell him how he affected her, but the moment overwhelmed her.

  She could only follow where the feelings took her.

  Tumbling her onto the bed, he slid down her body and unfastened her jeans with his teeth. His tongue licked her navel, circling inside in a prelude to what might come next. She twisted beneath him, ready for more, captive to his whims. All the fantasies she’d had about him undressing her like this came flooding back, infusing the moment with a surreal quality that made it feel both dreamlike and real.

  Her skin quivered, her legs shook with need as he stared down at her. She reached for him as he started to undress, her fingers strangely numb, since all sensation seemed concentrated in her breasts and between her legs.

  He paused in the middle of unzipping his fly, and reached into the pocket of his shorts. Emerging with the long, damp length of scarf she’d worn on her head earlier, he tugged it free and wound it around her wrists like silk handcuffs. He didn’t tie the ends, not really binding her but providing a tangible reminder of the fantasy she’d requested.

  “Hold still,” he warned in her ear, his breath hot and sultry on her skin.

  “I can’t wait anymore,” she whispered, her whole body on fire. “I’m not nearly as innocent as I pretended so, um—”

  He cupped her sex in one palm, rendering her speechless while sensation swamped her. Her eyelids fluttered, but she wanted to watch him. His gaze was magnetic as he held her gently with one hand while using the other to finish undressing.

  Fingers played over her slick folds, taking her higher than she ever believed possible. She thought she’d fly apart, but he stopped just before she came, and deliberately rolled on a condom. Next time, she’d pay him back for making her wait. But right now, she planned to savor every second of her ravishment.

  He climbed over her, parting her thighs with one knee before he entered her in one heady stroke. Lights flashed behind her eyelids and she wondered if she might pass out. She looped her arms behind his head, her wrists still joined by the scarf. The ends of the silk trailed over his back to skim her arms while he moved inside her.

  No one had ever been so good to her, so thoughtful of her needs and her wants. In two days, Keith Murphy had been kinder and more considerate of her than anyone she’d ever met. Emotions scattered inside her, a shotgun blast of feelings that spread everywhere. Then the sensual pleasure ramped up another notch, the storm inside her ready to break.

  She didn’t know where to put all the feelings—her body and soul were at this man’s mercy in ways that didn’t have anything to do with a flimsy scarf. Josie squeezed him tight, wrapping her legs around him and holding him close with her arms.

  Her release rolled over
her like a rogue wave, washing sweet sensation through her time and time again. Her hips arched against his and she fitted herself to him, taking every inch of him inside. The hard length of him throbbed with his own release, and she knew a primal disappointment at the latex barrier between them. In that insane moment, she wanted to feel the hot flood of his pleasure against her womb, to wring every last drop of fulfillment from him.

  As it was, she settled for kissing him, connecting with him that way as she longed for another, impossible kind of connection. Some far-off part of her brain tried to assure her that was just biology. Or chemistry. Surely there was some scientific rationale for why she would feel so strongly about someone she’d just met.

  Any other explanation simply wasn’t possible. And yet…

  The bliss of her release remained in her bloodstream like a drug, bringing endorphins to every corner of her physical being. She sprawled in the rumpled bed linens like a sated goddess—or a well-ravished maid—and wondered how she would ever disentangle herself from this man.

  Prying one eye open to take in his strong profile in the dim cabin, Josie acknowledged she couldn’t. Not yet.

  She didn’t know where this wild madness was taking her, but she couldn’t relinquish it—or him—so soon.

  They’d ridden out the storm together. Surely that meant they could weather another day or two without crashing on the rocky relationship shores that had already lashed him once.

  Of course, Keith had practice keeping himself distant and holding back, after that experience with his ex. Whereas Josie had no idea how to accomplish such a feat. But with the inevitable reminder that taking their romance public would be hell on their careers, she should be fine, right?

  9

  THE RAIN EASED as the chartered flight touched down at Chatham Municipal Airport the next afternoon. Keith had heard that the weather was better to the northeast, and sure enough, the skies were clearing in Chatham.

  The last thing he had wanted to do was leave the Vesta.